Little rippers are history in the making

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BY ELLEN HOLLINSHEAD
April 6, 2008

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I was having one of those mornings where the same theme kept repeating itself for numerous lift rides in a row, always on the same topic of parents my age and their interaction with young kids. I don't have children, but I love to spy on them from a distance, or hear the stories about how they behave and what they do. Childhood was a happy time for me, when all that innocence and freedom allowed you to do whatever you wanted and I envy parents who can re-live those moments through their child's eyes.

My first lift ride began with Erin, mom of Melina. Stories about local kids are especially rewarding because I know this is history in the making. These children are really just the second generation of kids who are raised in ski resort towns. Twelve-year-old Melina is especially fortunate to be born from strong skiing genes. Her father, C.J. Mueller, has made the history books as one of the fastest men on skis and Erin is a woman who skis like a guy - both in and out of bounds. Erin knows how much I love to ski backcountry and her story for me that morning was about Melina's first day out of bounds on Hoosier Pass.

"I told Melina to put a little Taylor Swift on her iPod, and we'll just see how far we can get." I didn't even think kids that age owned iPods, but then again, why not? I am a guilty iPod user in the backcountry as well, but listening to your favorite songs while skiing is so much fun, and what the heck, if you were as young as Melina, and more attuned to the immediate gratification of a chairlift, music is a great distraction when you're plodding uphill.

This story touched my heart because it was the first time I'd ever heard of someone that young skiing the backcountry, a sport of mine which borders on obsession. In fact, for all the time I spend climbing and skiing peaks, I don't think I've ever encountered anyone younger than college age. That's not to say they don't exist, but there aren't that many. Plus, I could visualize where they were, on that gentle, easterly bowl off Hoosier Pass. It's not a long run, but just long enough, with incredible views of Mt. Lincoln and Montgomery Reservoir.

Erin went on to tell me that halfway up the slope, Melina turned to her and said with confidence, "I see my line", the same words as a 40-year-old, I too have said when talking to my ski buddies. "But the best Ellen, was at the end of the run, when she turned to me and said, 'Mom, why haven't we done that sooner, that was so much fun!'"

On my next lift ride, I went solo, and this second episode was just a visual one. I looked down and there was my friend Annie in her nifty plaid ski pants, on the lower flats of Peak 8, with her two kids in tow. Annie is another mom who rips on her telemark skis and is married to the infamous Rick Ascher (aka Pup), another local legendary skier.

I watched Annie take a sharp right into a dense grove of trees; she knew exactly where she was going. Her daughter Geneva was on her heels, and Levi, older and a little more independent, was a little higher, but still behind - I couldn't help but notice he skied with the same cocky confidence as his dad. They disappeared out of site.

I brag about knowing every little nook and cranny of Peak 8, but here was Annie charging into the forest and I had no clue as to where she was going. I guess when you have to look at the mountain through the eyes of your child you learn those secret forest trails, and as a child I know I would've loved that, except I was raised in cities. It was a powder day and she sacrificed quite a few good turns just so her kids could play in the woods. Mom was giving so much back.

On my way up the T-Bar, I doubled up with a local woman, in her 50s, but who talked like a teenager. She was thrilled to be skiing with her 15-year-old son who had left town to go to school where he could play hockey; this was their first time together this season. She seemed like the coolest mom because every response she had on that 10-minute ride was, "Far Out!" "Awesome!" Her pride and love for her son was obvious and the theme continued.

Since that day, I look at the little rippers on our slopes with different eyes. Now I'm more aware of how love, guidance and energy has contributed to their skills. These children are so, so lucky. To paraphrase Hilary Clinton, I guess it takes a resort to raise a child.