Our Sun Valley Serenade - February 17, 2016

Apparently a body was found in the Sun Valley Creek, not far from here, on Sunday morning.  They think the fellow had been out drinking and got lost, disoriented, and that was that.  Moral of this story:  don’t drink and walk.

Clouds are rolling in today, for a storm coming tomorrow and into the night.  It sounds like it will rain low and snow high.  But the wind will be gusty up top.  How to ski that?  Maybe it is time for a day off.

The clouds make for incredibly flat light, meaning you can’t see any features in the snow, and you risk dropping unexpectedly into a rut or running into a surprising bump.  Up top, where there are no trees, the wide expanse of white just sort of melts into the gray sky and you wonder if you are going to ski off the edge and into an abyss.  Not really, but it isn’t quite as much fun as it is when you can see where you are going. 

Still, we find some good skiing today, including Picabo’s Street, but only Bill and Peter ski a bit of it as it is all bumped up and pretty rutty and just at this moment bumps are not my friend.  Picabo is one of four – count ‘em FOUR – LADY ski champions from around here.  That’s right, the old white dudes like Harriman and Hemingway may have built the place and made it famous, but the gals are the ones who got it done on the mountain.  Starting with Gretchen Fraser, first American to win Olympic skiing medals (gold and silver, 1948), and moving through Christin Cooper (silver, 1984 and lots of World Cup success), Muffy Davis (gold, 2000 Paralympics and many handcycling medals from 1998 to 2012), and ending (for the moment) with Picabo Street (silver, 1994; gold, 1998).  

This mountain is dripping with ski history, and many famous racers of days gone by have left their names here.  But the ladies have achieved the most world renown.  You go, girls.

Speaking of girls and skiing, Isabel had so much fun at ski school today that Peter asked at dinner, somewhat plaintively, if he could go tomorrow?  If you really want to, Peter, but I don’t think you’ll fit in the snow cave.  Here’s the story.  All week, Izzy has had a wonderful instructor named Parker.  He is buddies with the ski patrollers, and every day, he has taken his little flock up to say hello to the dogs who will be called on to help search for survivors in an avalanche.[1]

Today Izzy was in a state of high excitement because Parker had said that his class was going to help train the dogs.  Two kids at a time – boots and helmets and all –were stuffed into one of three types of snow caves, the opening of which was then covered with more snow and ice (enough to hide them, but don’t worry grandmas, they could still see light and had plenty of air).  Then the dogs were brought out and had to find the kids and dig them out.  Izzy says that she and Charlie got stuffed in the cave, and waited, and waited, and waited.  Then you hear woof woof, pant pant pant, snuffle snuffle, and some snow starts to fall in and then there is a dog face panting in at you!  Because the dogs are trained to grab the clothing and drag the person out of the cave, but the ski patrollers wisely realize that sending kids home with big tears in their parkas might not endear them to parents (but what character points!), they toss the kids a rope-toy, which the “survivors” give to the dogs who are very happy to get it, and then out come the kids. 

Izzy even got to ride on a snowmobile behind a ski patroller AND a DOG, to get up to the training area.  She hasn’t stopped talking about the experience for about 24 hours.

How fun is that?!  I would like to help with avi dog training. 

We heard all about it at the stylish Town Square Tavern, which has a pretty tasty Mediterranean themed-menu.  More elegant gray heads, and us. 

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[1] We have a long discussion at dinner one night, about the merits of dogs v. pigs v. goats for this kind of work.  We note that each brings a particular skill to the job, but dogs are likely the easiest trained so we end up with them.  Besides, it would be more fun to get found by a dog than a pig.

Our Sun Valley Serenade - February 18, 2016

Izzy is torn today:  ski with the family (usually a no-brainer of a choice) or go to ski school (what if they do something fun and I miss it?).  Eventually she chooses us, and I think she is glad she did, but man, that Parker must really be something to generate this kind of agony among his students.  I want to note that Parker is not young and handsome like Izzy’s other fave instructor, Spencer at Telluride.  Parker calls his charges Knuckleheads, and he himself is the King of the Knuckleheads.  giggle giggle giggle from Izzy.

Everyone has been watching the weather, hoping for some snow.  There is plenty on most trails, but they’ll need more if they’re to make it through March.  And we’d like some freshies to scootch about in.  Today we got it.  Rain in Ketchum turned to snow and dumped about 6 or so inches up top early on.  Pretty heavy going at first, then we found some trails that worked pretty nicely.  And the sun even came out for much of the afternoon, until the snow started blowing again, and it snowed all evening.

In case I haven’t made it clear yet, Sun Valley is dense with history and tradition, and a swell place to catch a sense of that is at the Roundhouse, about half-way up Baldy at the top of the gondola.  This was the first on-mountain day lodge here, and it is a lovely old building, modeled on a train roundhouse, with lots of timber and elk-antler lighting fixtures, a cozy bar and a four-sided fireplace in the middle.  It’s all white tablecloths, and wine glasses and table service, but not really more expensive than the other on-mountain lunch options.  The real draw is the house specialty of cheese fondue.  It comes for two and you can add on people and extra stuff like veggies or sausage or mushrooms.  The basic order brings a plate piled high with bread and potatoes and apples and pears and grapes.  An immediate scrum of fondue forks ensued at our table, with Izzy having to stand up to get hers in there.  They actually don’t give you a ton of cheese, so we scraped that pot clean and then, because you know we hadn’t had enough carbs, had some really tasty apple bread pudding to finish things off. 

That was so civilized.  If it wasn’t for the carb-induced coma afterwards, I’d do that everyday. 

Here’s another thoughtful Sun Valley touch.  At the ticket counter, they say that for Military and Parent Predicament rates, please inquire within.  I get the military rate, but what on earth is a parent predicament?  Turns out, it is when there are two parents who want to ski, and one kid who can’t.  The parents can share a ticket, and trade it back and forth over the course of the day. 

Bill and I checked out the Sun Valley Museum of History this afternoon, which was kind of interesting – lots about sheep and trains, and the fellow working there told us that the second building was all about the ski history and technology and Hemingway (they have to put him somewhere).  But it was kind of uneven, and I think they could do a lot more.  How can a museum that purports to address the history of skiing technology not even acknowledge the positively seismic invention of the chairlift, which happened right here at Sun Valley?  Or Smith goggles, except by way of a small plaque to Dr. Bob Smith, in the Sun Valley Hall of Fame?  Or Scott poles?  Or heli-skiing, developed by Bill Janss?  All of these things happened right here, and skiers should know about them!  The museum guy did tell us that they get a lot of equipment donations but there are only so many pairs of 1970s-vintage skis that you can put on the wall. 

I did love seeing Gretchen Fraser’s elegant ski suit and parade overcoat from the 1948 Olympics, however.  Boy, did they know how to dress back then.

Sheep have been a big part of the economy here since forever.  The original Native American band that lived here were known as Sheep-Eaters, and it wasn’t until 1970 that the Idaho census noted more humans than sheep in the state!  Herds are still brought through town in the spring to graze on the highlands, and then back down in the fall.  Once the railway closed, and a nice walking and bike path was put in, this apparently became problematic, because where 1500 sheep go, so goes their sheep poop.  And the runners and bikers really didn’t like running and biking after the sheep came through.  So some crafty town elder came up with the idea of the “Trailing of the Sheep.”  Now, when the sheep come, there is a big sheep-themed festival, and everyone follows the sheep and cleans up after them.  I guess it is a major event in Ketchum now, and hundreds of people come to town for the day, just for this big occasion.