Lookout Pass opener lifts many spirits

Today is opening day at Mt. Spokane. Expect more than 2 feet of powder, with wind chills up to 18 below zero. If you’d like to join me, wear extra layers and a facemask. Use blue wax or you just won’t slide.

Mt. Spokane collected 24 inches in a 24-hour period ending Thursday morning – and the storm had yet to play out. Last week’s storm generated more drama than production, but it got things rolling in the Panhandle.

I waited until the last minute to tune my rock skis. The snowstorm, hyped like a Super Bowl by the media, kicked in as I dripped molten P-tex into gouges inflicted late last spring.

For several days the city buzzed over the arrival of winter’s wrath. Storm warnings flashed on electronic reader boards. TV meteorologists made sweeping gestures and spoke grave warnings. A forecaster at the National Weather Service said, “It’s a bomb.”

The bomb was a dud in the city. Less than an inch fell in my neighborhood. Before starting coffee, I skeptically checked Internet snow reports. My wife Claire snoozed on, warming the bed, and I wanted to keep my options open.

The bomb detonated in the Idaho Panhandle. Lookout Pass was in play, with 11 inches overnight and top to bottom skiing on the front side. A 90-mile drive was in store, so I ceded first chair to the locals and made a big breakfast.

Arriving at Lookout about 45 minutes after the bullwheel started turning, I was surprised to discover a moderate crowd, given the pent-up demand of a delayed ski season. The storm’s hype may have scared many into holding out until today.

Lookout’s front side has been bushwacked since it opened in 1935. The resort is often first in the area to drop the rope, with relatively little snow cover.

Open terrain was white and pristine, except for little treetops peeking through the Montana side of the face. Trees were laden with snow. The sun was a ball of cotton floating in translucent clouds.

I cruised along the ridges, getting a feel for linking turns together again. The ride was smooth and relaxing. I did hit a rock nibbling on scraps of powder in the scrub on Montana Face. Trees beckoned, but caution won.

Folks from Spokane, Rathdrum, Coeur d’Alene, Kellogg, Wallace, Mullan, Moscow and Missoula shared chairs with me. We all grinned like fools. There’s something about sliding down a mountain that makes it easy forget about the cares and woes of the world.

The temperature dropped steadily. After noon the all-in-one wax I had applied the night before became slow and grabby. My casual effort wasn’t enough to stay warm. It was time for après ski.

I sipped a pint in Lookout’s cozy upstairs bar, looking out at the mountainside filling the view. Ruddy faces bore contented looks. One of Lookout’s owners, Hans Reifer, 77, from Vienna, Austria, worked the room, making sure every table had plenty of popcorn.

Driving home into the setting sun, tingling with the afterglow of a day on skis, I promised myself to hit 49 Degrees North for its opening day the next morning.

I checked my e-mail dark and early. The resort reported a temperature of 9 below zero with an 8 mph breeze – 25 below with wind chill, give or take a few degrees.

The bed was warm, and I had kept my options open.