Ski Resort Forecaster Tries Not To Make It A Snow Job

It’s 4:30 a.m.

Besides a security guard, Pat VanVolkinburg is the only person tromping through the darkness and falling snow at Schweitzer Mountain Resort.

The peppy 36-year-old is the resort’s amateur weather forecaster, better known to the region’s skiers as the “snow-phone lady.”

She’s the voice thousands hear each morning before deciding whether to head for the slopes.

She’s also the voice skiers love to hate when the snow conditions don’t live up to their billing.

“I always strive to make the report absolutely honest. One angry person can spread a lot of negative feedback,” says VanVolkinburg, peering at the weather gauges in the lodge.

“I used to ski and have to scare up the 32 bucks and the only thing to rely on was this weather report. I believe people ought to get the real scoop,” she said. “But the weather changes so rapidly up here.”

This day it was pouring rain in Sandpoint. On the mountain, VanVolkinburg walked through a flurry of wet snowflakes and a one-inch coating of snow on the ground.

“See, it can rain in town and snow up here at the same time,” she says. “On a day like this we will probably get 300 phone calls before 7 a.m. But we don’t have much to brag about except an inch of new wet snow.”

VanVolkinburg has been the morning snow-phone lady for three years. She rises at 3:30 a.m. to drive the 20 miles from her Sagle home to the mountain.

For her effort she earns 30 bucks a day.

“I don’t do it for the money, I just really like it,” she said. “I get to see some beautiful sunrises that will give you goose bumps. And on those great powder days I can’t wait to tell people about it.”

VanVolkinburg’s first stop is the day lodge weather station to check the temperature, wind speed and barometer. Next, she eyes a snow gauge outside, calls the National Weather Service and radios snow groomers at the top of the mountain for the latest conditions.

“Some people think we just look out the window and wing it, making up our own weather,” she said. “Some think we even do it from downtown, but that’s not how it happens.”

After writing a brief script, VanVolkinburg grabs a black microphone. In a smooth, rhythmic voice, she records the first report.

“Good morning Schweitzer skiers, this is Pat with your 5 a.m. report. It’s really dumping up here….”

Within 40 minutes, 60 callers have already heard VanVolkinburg’s message. The day before, the machine logged 929 calls.

VanVolkinburg said she doesn’t just rely on weather gauges. She eyes three flags outside her window to check changes in the wind. She stomps through the snow herself to check its consistency and looks at three different thermometers.

When she’s not sure about the snow gauge, she pokes a finger into the fresh snow atop a picnic table.

“I truly want people to come up and have good time,” she said. “On a day when it’s really crappy, I can’t say crappy, although I would like to. I just make it clear in other ways.”

Last week the mountain had eight inches of new snow, but it was so wet it was like walking in concrete, VanVolkinburg said.

“I reported heavy wet snow, with the emphasis on heavy.”

VanVolkinburg said what might be poor conditions to one skier could be an ideal day for a snowboarder. So she describes surface conditions not necessarily skiing conditions, using terms like packed powder, light powder, icy or wind blown.

“I don’t try and disguise the report. I call it like I see it,” she said. “Wet snow may not necessarily be crappy for everyone.”

Bill Mullane, Schweitzer’s communication director, said some people distrust the resort’s weather report, thinking it’s exaggerated to attract business.

He insists that’s not so.

“There’s a lot more to it than people think. Pat’s a real pro and does her best to get out accurate information,” Mullane said.

The resort doesn’t want unhappy skiers and Mullane said it does them no good to embellish weather conditions because the resort offers a guarantee. If conditions don’t meet skiers’ expectations, they can turn in their ticket after the first hour and receive a ticket to come back another day.

Few other resorts give skiers that option, Mullane said.

In between making a fresh pot of coffee and taking a smoke break, VanVolkinburg types up a snow report. It gets faxed to about 75 locations across the country, including New Jersey and Vermont.

VanVolkinburg then gets on the telephone to radio stations in Spokane, Sandpoint and Bonners Ferry. She jokes with disc jockeys before recording her spiel.

“Three, two, one,” she counts, and belts out the report, usually getting it right on the first try.

It doesn’t always go that smoothly. Once when she called a Bonners Ferry radio station this year, the disc jockey didn’t tell her they were already on the air.

The disc jockey asked VanVolkinburg how she was.

“I said, ‘I would be better if the skiing didn’t suck.’ I didn’t know we were on the air.”

Another time, while she was making a recording for an automated service for Spokane callers, a fellow employee started snapping photos of VanVolkinburg.

“It screwed me up, and I had some choice words to say while it was still recording,” she said. “I had to call back about eight times until I erased it. I don’t know how many people heard me say, ‘Oh, blank.”’

VanVolkinburg changes her report constantly, scribbling conditions on a yellow notepad and re-recording her message. “Now we’ll call California,” she said as the sun was rising on the mountain.

“Come on up out of that mud and ski the friendly uncrowded slopes at Schweitzer. I just had to say that,” she laughed.