Proctor, MT to Whitefish, MT

Aaahhh Whitefish, MT. I have heard Whitefish described not as much as a town but more as a group of people that really like to hang out together. That feeling resonates throughout all of Whitefish; the grocery store, the bar, the streets, the downhill ski area. In my life I have been lucky enough to have lived for nine months amongst these people that are the heart of Whitefish, an experience I will cherish. I love Whitefish because it reminds me of home, Fairfield, CT, another town that is less a town and more a group of people that really love to hang out together. I spent 21 years living in Fairfield, CT before I moved to Whitefish. It was just my luck that my first foray into the big, new world after college (Whitefish population 3500) would be to a town that exudes the exact same qualities of my hometown and in it's similarity, making it a place where you might want to raise your kids someday.

Very shortly after Heather and Heath recovered from the initial shock of having the mini-Titanic pull into their driveway, we commenced on what we now refer to as “Food Fest 2009.” Ryan and I tried very hard to eat our way through Whitefish from Heather’s homemade bread and soup to Ryan’s homemade pizza to my homemade stuffed peppers to Heath’s homemade Japanese curry. For those of you that know us best, yes we were in heaven. Initially we had thought we would have to travel to Europe to get the full experience of ski culture most importantly the amazing food. Little did we know that we needn’t travel more then 600 miles from Portland, OR to have it all and if not for the growing waistline, we may have extended our stay in the interest of more caloric intake.

We spent our first day in Whitefish attempting to skate ski with Heather who had Cash, their 10 month old, in tow. If skate skiing either comes naturally or it doesn’t come at all, then for me it didn’t come at all. The action was not as difficult as the getting used to not having edges to stop. A downhill skier not having edges to stop is like a train not having brakes. Once again I was humbled by skiing and humiliated by the high school skate skiing team (see learning to ski in Jackson) that so generously moved out of my way once they realized I was coming at them down a hill at mock 10 completely out of control without brakes. I had more face plants in one day on skate skis then I have ever had on my downhill skis. Ryan, of course, picked it up without even breaking a sweat which is one of those unfair aspects of my marriage that I won't get into right now. And then there was Heather hauling her 20 pound child in the Chariot like it was nothing! Radar of course was the leader of the pack, a position she regretted the next day when her hips reminded her of her age and her arthritis.

After missing the chance to eat sweet and sour tofu from China Town in Jackson, WY, I wasn’t going to let another opportunity get by me so to the Northern we headed after a long day of skate skiing. The Great Northern Bar in Whitefish happens to have one of the greatest gardenburgers on the planet. It was a special occasion because not only did I get my fix, but Cash enjoyed his first cheeseburger which, as you can see from the photos, went well.

The next day we skied Whitefish Mountain Resort, aka Big Mountain, on what was dubbed a four inch day. A kind soul took pity on us in the parking lot and gave us his ticket saving us about $60 dollars. We then found out that they sell one up tickets Monday thru Friday for $12 dollars giving Whitefish Mountain Resort partial dirtball status. After taking a few turns off the backside of the mountain, we were pleasantly surprised to find out that a four inch day really means an eight inch day in Whitefish. Kudos to Whitefish Mountain Resort for under reporting the nights snow accumulations. I have nothing but love for ski areas that under report so that you start the day mentally prepared to ski a five inch day only to find out you are floating on ten inches of new. The magic of good PR! After finding a beautiful line down the back we skinned our way back up only to run into two ski patrollers as we arrived at the top. We prepared for the worst, the whole authority figure thing, but all these guys had to say was “How was the powder?” Gotta love Whitefish.

We all ventured out to the hill to ski the following day; Ryan, Kimberly, Heather, Heath and Cash. The base lodge made for a great set up to trade off duties with one hanging out with Cash while the others took ski runs. In reality, though, it’s so much fun to hang with Cash that I don’t know who had it better, the skiers or the babysitters. Cash is one of those kids who is so good it makes you think “I can do this” until you are reminded by the crazed child next to you that they aren’t all that mellow. For the skiers, the snow was beautiful and soft high up with pockets of powder if you were lucky enough to be skiing with a local to show you the way to the stashes. I was not feeling it for some reason which I attributed to being sore from the skate skiing and the climb the day before. It was certainly nothing that couldn’t be corrected by a Red Bull. Thank you Chris for the seemingly endless taurine buzz. Apres ski we headed to the deck of the Bierstube to enjoy a frosty pitcher of PBR, including Cash until we remembered that Cash was not old enough enjoy a frosty mug…Oooh well, more for us.

The Bierstube would have been the perfect ending to the perfect day, but unfortunately the source of my soreness revealed itself in the form of the dreaded Korvola virus that kicked in that night rendering me helpless. In my feverish stupor, I had two revelations. I am a horrible patient and one should always have ginger ale in their home. It was not pretty and if Ryan could love me then, then he could love me always! Heath, Heather and Cash assured me, after recent bouts with the Korvola virus themselves, that the suffering would last only 30 hours so the countdown was on. At least I now had an excuse for my poor ski performance that day.

Once I was back to myself, we made our way to Glacier-Waterton National Peace Park. In my opinion, Montata is one of the most beautiful states of all the states I have visited and Glacier is known as "the Crown Jewel." It is truly one of the most beautiful places on earth. The area was formed hundreds of millions of years ago by an overthrust meaning that when the tectonic plates shifted and collided this caused the older rock to be thrust upon the newer rock. Lucky for us this created these spectacular jagged, knife like ridges and peaks that literally take your breath away when you see them. We had limited visibility that day which is pretty good for the winter! It was enough to get a sense of the rocky alpine setting that surrounded us. It will be worth a trip back when the weather is more in our favor and the Going to the Sun road is open further up. We attempted a couple ski tours but found ourselves in mostly flat terrain enjoying the tour more then the skiing also noting that it would be worth a trip back when there was more time to explore the area’s skiing possibilities.

Given the recession, Ryan and I are doing our best to be good consumers so we hit a ski store on our last day where we purchased the greatest winter accessory ever….Yaktraks. I had seen them before but for some crazy reason talked myself out of them until now. If I had only known what I had been missing all this time. Yaktraks are like tire chains but they go on your feet with the idea that they will give you more traction on ice and snow. Think of all those icy slips and falls post bar that could have been avoided if only you had your Yaktraks on! I haven’t taken them off yet!

Then just like that our time in Whitefish had come to an end. While we were sad to leave the warm hospitality of Whitefish and the Korvola family home, it was time to give Heath and Heather their driveway back. And the time had come in our own journey, the moment had arrived. We were at the gates of the Promised Land of skiing, British Columbia, Canada and it was time to drop in….

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