Whitefish Dreams

As I sit here in mid-November, looking out my window, I see rain, not just sprinkles, but a constant sheet of rain. This is the kind of rain that can only inspire a couple of things — putting another DVD in the player, refreshing the warm tea and snuggling under the down comforter. But then a thought occurs to me: If it is raining in the valley at this temperature, it’s got to be snowing in the mountains. Then I start thinking about the upcoming winter and last season’s late-season storm that drove me, literally, to Whitefish Mountain Resort. Suddenly, I am inspired by something else — the memory of a three-day trip to Whitefish. One of those three days has made its way into my journal of “Best Days of the 2007-2008 Season.”

As many of you know, last season was a hard one to narrow down. A late-winter storm (and the weakness of the U.S. dollar in Canada) prompted us to chase the storm to Whitefish Mountain Resort. Although we left behind pretty much the most epic conditions all year here in the Inland Northwest, we knew Whitefish wouldn’t let us down.
The drive to our snowy sister to the east was easy with many routes to choose from; ours took us up the scenic Bull River on Highway 56 to Highway 2 and then east into Kalispell. Once in Whitefish, the quintessential Montana ski-cowboy trip begins, with saloon-lined streets and a town full of warm and colorful locals talking about their day skiing at the mountain they affectionately refer to as “The Big.” On a recommendation from a friend, we headed straight to the Lodge at Whitefish to fuel up before the last leg of the drive up the mountain.
What we had hoped would be a snowy arrival into Whitefish Mountain Resort was, in fact, a warm welcome — literally. Skiers and boarders were boasting about their day as the perfect spring skiing day. What?! We had just left an epic spring powder storm, and we’re met with warm temps and corn snow? Not to fear, we thought — the big storm is right behind us. We checked into our accommodations, opened the curtains to orient ourselves to our village location and, to our unexpected delight, we were greeted with the best sign on the mountain: “The Bierstube.” We were stumbling distance from the legendary après ski bar!
I had never skied at the resort although I had been to the community several times. I was definitely looking forward to the expansive views of Glacier Park and the surrounding mountain ranges, not to mention the infamous Snow Ghosts. Upon waking the first morning and peering out the window, we were greeted with one of the typical weather patterns at Whitefish: fog. Luckily, we were meeting up with Jef Elliot, local retired telemark world-cup ski racer, groomer and long-time friend, who gave us a tour of the mountain.