One of my favorite stories is many years ago, before we even had Empire Canyon, Daly Chutes and Lady Morgan. A group of my guy friends were planning on skiing somewhere other than Deer Valley because we were in the middle of a big storm. I offered to ski with them at Deer Valley and show them around the powder, but they insisted we didn’t have enough.

Well the next day, they agreed to meet me. They still were full of skepticism thinking the “powder day”  was wasted. Well, I’ll put it this way, by 1 p.m. they were crying “Uncle” and needed to stop. We didn’t ski a single designated trail. Of course all in bounds, we just stuck to the all bowls and trees.

We started in Mayflower Bowl for a few runs then crossed into Perseverance Bowl. We got to the top of Sultan Express and dropped over into Ruins of Pompeii on down into the trees that lead you back to Perseverance. As we grabbed the lift again and rested, I lead them down to the top of Triangle Trees right were Tycoon and Reward split. They were having the time of their lives. Once we got in the heart of Triangle of Trees you heard the “powder day cheers” coming from all, we hit Rattler, grabbed Wasatch Express chairlift to make our way into Sunset Glades then Ontario Bowl. Even though we had been skiing over 2 hours they couldn’t get over the lines still untouched in Ontario Bowl.

After a few laps in Ontario they asked for lunch and promised they would never say that they could “out ski” Deer Valley again.

Fast forward a few years, we now have Empire Canyon with the Daly Chutes and Lady Morgan. It’s quite the work out to hit all areas I’ve mentioned on one powder day. It can be done but the legs might fumble at the end. People ask me how big Deer Valley is, I say “you can’t ski it all in a day”.

Also, I like to showcase Deer Valley’s varied terrain to dispel the myths of us being only intermediate. One run that makes me gather my thoughts before I enter is Challenger (Daly Chutes). No matter the abundance of snow Challenger is just that, challenging. It is very narrow at the entry. I’m not sure two skiers could enter at the same time. Once completed you look back up, out of breath and realize the steepness and narrowness you just navigated. Quite Exhilarating!

If you still don’t believe me, now that I have described some of our black diamond skiing; then come check it out for yourself and maybe I can help. But don’t get caught off guard either, our groomers like Tycoon, Reward, Keno, Magnet and Legal Tender keep you challenged too.  Some much to ski but so little time. See you on the slopes.

Jessie Martin plays with Izzy the avalanche dog in Silver Lake First Aid

Sue Anderson plays with two of the avalanche dogs in the Flagstaff patrol shack

First-year patroller Chris Le Vine skis the trees on Flagstaff

Le Vine skis Keno on Bald Mountain

After I went through the process of getting all my equipment I met up with Eddy on the beginners slope and felt even more at ease with the situation. However, unlike my first day I was not ready for the cold. I realize that you can’t always have a beautiful sunny day, but from my personal experience, I can say without a doubt that if you don’t like being cold and you are trying to learn to ski, you won’t have a great experience. Eddy gave my some hand warmers to put in my gloves and we made our way to the lifts.

The first couple of runs we took just went very slow and reviewed all that we had learned at a slow pace. I cannot say enough how great Eddy is! He was trying to cheer me up because I was frustrated at how I wasn’t doing as well as before and not to mention that I had turned into the abominable snowman. As great as he is, cheering me up was not happening and I was losing my excitement quick. Eddy then suggested we take a break and warm up inside, which I was more than happy to do. We then met up with JF Lanvers in the lodge who was very excited and couldn’t wait to see how much more progress I had made. Eddy delicately explained it was too cold to get as good while showing me puppy pictures to bring my smile back. I think that the most important thing that Eddy taught me in this lesson was that you can’t be hard on yourself and you need to be patient (whether that is with your progress or with the sun).

We decided that it was time to give it another chance because the sun had come out and I was on a cute-puppy-picture high and now was as good of a time to try as any. We started with our run and the difference between that run and the previous runs was unbelievable! I was for sure not as good as I had been towards the end of the first lesson, but I was much, much, MUCH better than before. My mood instantly got better and I was ready to go. (Again mad props to Eddy for being able to read me and know how to best ensure I had a good day!)

After a few runs on the bunny hill Eddy decided that it was time for an actual run. My heart just about stopped and I was less than enthused to fall down a very large and much longer hill. Eddy promised me that he would never endanger me by putting me on a run that he didn’t know I could handle. Eddy is a very optimistic person clearly, because I for sure felt like that was something that I could not accomplish. But he had never steered me wrong so I needed to trust him and everything he had taught me…

Fast forward to the top of the run which was called Success, which Eddy promised was super easy and just a longer version of the bunny hill.

At the top of the run I snapped this pic to both A) show the world my mastery of the sport B) lie to the world and say I skied skillfully down the run.

We started down the run and I cannot believe what happened. I destroyed it (In a good way!). I did so well and I felt that excitement of skiing and accomplishing something. I did fall twice, on two flat parts because I was spazzing out and looking directly down which you should not do! Eddy told me half way through that he had a secret that he would tell me when we finished, which I knew was something I was either or that the run was maybe not the easiest of the beginner runs. I flew down the rest of the mountain (still a bit of a ski hazard so if you ever see a fully purple ski suit looking a little nervous and in the way, it’s me and I will apologize now if you run into me, I’m sure it’ll be great meeting you like that.)

At the end I felt so accomplished and was so happy to be able to say that I skied my first run and lived to tell the tail. I was so proud of myself and I know that Eddy was really proud of me as well. He then proceeded to tell me that I had just skied the hardest beginner’s hill and “killed” it. Eddy is very sneaky and totally tricked me into realize that I’m good enough for even the more difficult beginner runs.

Long story, very short; Had a really hard morning, decided I hated skiing, hung out with Eddy and listened to him and finally skied down an actual run. Decided that I like skiing and I have a lot of potential to be good at it.

As always, a special thank you to JF Lanvers for catching my lessons on video and showing everything I cannot describe in words.

It’s the question I’ve received most often: “How many of you are working today?” Followed by: “What the heck do you guys do all day?” 

Here are the numbers: 

Roughly 40 full-time patrollers at Deer Valley

17 of them are rookies

20-30 others are part-time or on-call

25-30 patrollers are on-duty on any given day

3-7 patrollers are assigned to each of the resort’s six patrol shacks 

Together, patrol represents a varied lot, ranging from former tree-trimmers who hail from Minnesota, to former real estate developers who lived in Florida, to paramedics, firefighters, physicians’ assistants, and journalists-on-hiatus (ahem).   

We’ve proven, however, a truly cohesive unit, one united by the drive to maintain Deer Valley Ski Patrol’s reputation as one of the elite patrols in North America. More on that in a future post.  

Our day starts with morning meeting at 8 a.m. Picture roll call from any police procedural, and you get the idea – albeit without the Formica desks or crusty sergeants. 

For about half-an-hour, we review major events from the previous day, the ski-trail grooming plan, any projects that need attention (such as opening or closing trails), and the weather forecast. If there’s time, we do a practice assessment: one patroller plays a patient, the other the first-responder – think of it as early-morning amateur theater, replete with a peanut gallery. Then we head to our assigned mountains for opening runs.   

Each patroller is tasked with skiing several particular trails during openers. The main purpose is to ensure each run is safe to open to the public, a task which includes surveying the snow conditions, making sure bamboo and rope lines are firmly planted in the snow, and checking that pads are still in place on lift towers, trail signs, snow guns, and other obstacles. Opening runs are also when we plant our slow signs.  

The rest of the day then proceeds much you might expect: responding to skier-wrecks, installing or removing bamboo and rope lines, performing speed control, training, and otherwise skiing around. The end of the day approaches at 3 p.m., when Empire Patrol begins its sweeps, closing that portion of the mountain and funneling skiers back toward the Silver Lake and Snow Park lodges.

 Sweeps are staggered across each mountain. And in addition to ensuring that no guests are left on any runs, we also prepare the trails for Deer Valley’s overnight workers: the snowmakers and snowcat operators. We remove the slow signs we installed that morning and pull back rope lines to allow the snowcats to groom the trails. If all goes according to plan, we’re off the slopes by 5:15 p.m., just as the cats are rumbling from their garage off Ontario run.

The day flies by. With six mountain peaks as our office, how could it not? Next up: more on responding to skier wrecks, the divide between “wreck” and “project” patrollers, and The Wheel of Misfortune. 

Any questions? Shoot an email to alneuhauser@gmail.com.

Sun! Snow! Tourists!

It’s my first year on Deer Valley Ski Patrol, and I’m here to see it all. Eight weeks ago, I resigned my full-time job as an editor with Patch Media in New Jersey, and accepted a position with patrol – a job I’ve wanted to do since my first trip to the slopes as a 6-year-old. It meant leaving family and friends more than 2,000 miles behind, and moving to a town where I didn’t know a single soul. What’s more, by pure coincidence (I think, anyway), this season has so far proven one of Utah’s driest on record, with December experiencing its lowest level of snowfall in recorded history.

This rookie season on patrol, however, could hardly be better. Heck, I’m beaming even as I write this blog post. Joining DVSP marked one of the biggest transitions of my life. But from the DVSP team, to the resort’s leadership, to the guests, these past eight weeks have proven some of the most fun and fulfilling I’ve ever experienced.

This blog will record the life of a rookie patroller with DVSP. Previously, it was penned by Matt DeWaard, a long-time patroller, former hill captain, and great photographer who left a big pair of ski boots to fill. Over the course of the next four months, I’ll bring you photos, videos, and insight into the day-to-day life of a first-year patroller. Send thoughts, questions and suggestions to alneuhauser@gmail.com. You can also learn a little about my own background by visiting www.alanneuhauser.com.

Below, here are photos of patrol from early in the season. Far, far more to come soon!

Hating no feeling in my toes, not wanting to look like a total spazz and hating snow were all major causes of me hating skiing… and winter. However, I must confess that even though I had never tried skiing, it sure sounded like something that I would hate. Then finally after 21 years of being completely adamant about not skiing, I was given enough grief that I thought I’d give it a try. Living in Utah which has The Greatest Snow on Earth®, being only 20 minutes away from the best ski resort in the country and being given this opportunity, I’d be crazy to not at least try, right?

Fast forward to the actual morning of my first lesson and the decision seemed a whole lot less great then I had previously assumed. While driving up the canyon I couldn’t help but assume the worst; that I’d be awful, everyone would see me fall on my face, that my instructor would give up and say I was a lost cause, etc. But now, I can say with certainty, that if you’re going to learn to ski (when you suffer from over thinking like I do) the only place to do it is Deer Valley. When I reached the resort I looked around and was truly blown away. Not only by the people in epic snow gear, but also how beautiful the snow was, how cozy and warm the lodge was and how everyone was in this insanely cheerful-happy-to-be-alive mood. Needless to say, I was in love with the environment and ready to pack up and move there. But in all seriousness, even just being around people who love to ski that much was infectious and a lot of my nervousness went away just by being there.

I went to the ski rental shop and got my boots, skis, poles, and the name of my own private instructor (feeling pretty legit at this point). And then I looked outside and it all became very real: the bunny hill in all its glory. I walked out and was instantly greeted by a very smiley man in a very green ski outfit who pointed me in the direction of my instructor Eddy. Eddy, from Michigan, who was so nice and made me feel sure that I was in good hands. Eddy told me that I was lucky to learn from him because he knew all the secrets and was going to make me a pro in no time. “I’m going to show you that you already know all the things you need to ski, but you just didn’t know you knew it.” Sounded good enough to me because the easier the better and a lower chance that I would look lame.

We went inside first and did some very basic things like walking and standing which I’m already good at, so my self-confidence was soaring pretty high. Eddy reassured me that being on skis would be just as easy if I just gave it a chance and listened to what he had to say. After I was feeling like I could take on just about any run, I actually got on to a pair of skis and felt a whole lot less confident. Eddy taught me the basics of getting in and out of skis, walking, turning (a lot harder than one would think) and finally how to move enough to get to the chairlift. As odd as it sounds, the chairlift was the thing that I was most worried about. After Eddy reassured me about seven times that it really wasn’t that bad we pushed our way up and got on the chairlift. It was truly that simple, which is a very obvious statement, but really not bad at all and probably the silliest fear ever.

After we got of the lift with no problems, because Eddy is a chairlift master (or it’s just super easy to get off a chairlift) we made our way to my very first attempt at skiing down a mountain. Eddy turned around and skied backwards while teaching me the ‘wedge’ technique which is how you stop. We went down the hill three times just practicing the wedge and learning how to stop which was probably the most important thing I learned. As Eddy put it,” The two things that you should have learned by the end of the lesson are: how to get control and how to keep it.” I truly could not have had a better experience learning how to ski. Eddy and all of the staff were so nice and so patient that I felt completely at ease to take things as slow as I needed and that made all the difference. By the end of the half day lesson I was parallel skiing down the mountain with no problem! It truly seemed like a miracle but I was assured that it actually happens all the time which is neat but made me feel less like a natural skier pro extraordinaire.

After a fantastic BLT from the Deer Valley Grocery ~Cafe and repeatedly boasting to my sister that “I killed it” and was “practically the next Lindsey Vonn” I realized that skiing was something that I could learn to actually like. I’m not going to lie and say it wasn’t hard but I would say that it was way more fun than it was effort. I can’t wait for my next lesson so that I can get even better and feel even more comfortable skiing.

JF Lanvers caught up with me during my lesson and captured the whole thing on video.

Well today couldn’t have been a better day to ski, with some fresh snow a couple days ago and sunny skies. My teammate for many years is in town on a “girl’s weekend. “Lucky for her, she gets to come ski with friends and is free of family duties for a few days.

Today was one of those days you realize the kind of relationship you have after 10 years of competing with someone. We haven’t skied together since 1994 and as we discussed the word “skiing together” we realized the definition had changed since then. We were not at the same place skiing and working together, we weren’t trying to be on the training course first, trying to have the fastest training time or trying to make sure you get one of the spots for the next race.

It was relaxing and full of laughs reminiscing about times on the road. I think her girlfriends thought we were crazy (at least me, since I did crash their party). As I reflect what it means to ski with Diann for a day I couldn’t help but think this is a lifetime friendship where we have shared so much.

I remember when I scored my first World Cup points, she was there to reinforce that if I kept going I could have a successful career. I witnessed her winning her SG gold medal in Lillehammer; she made it look so easy (It didn’t work out the same way for me, ha!)We shared our disappointments of injury and battling back and our highs when good results came our way. She even asked me for parental advice for her three year old. Now that’s a bond!

You can share so much and never realize until you’re out of the elements. A highlight of the day was our last run skiing down Big Stick. She began skiing the face and I jumped in after her. Unfortunately she didn’t get to see this, but it was as if we were the only two on the hill. Her movement into the next turn was the same movement forward I made; her next turn was the same time I began and so on… her girlfriends came down and said how cool that was to watch. The funny thing was we didn’t plan it! 

The best part of the day was when we met each other and saw we both had a yellow coat on and white warm-ups! My fault as she is traveling and I have a closet to choose from. I guess once a teammate in the same uniform, always a teammate!

There is no question we headed out to the mountain in snippy moods.

In spite of the promise of my shiny new boots, I was a little grumpy myself—for no apparent reason.

We took so long to get out of the house (add that to the reasons we were grumpy), that by the time we got to the mountain, it was lunch time. Baked Potato soup did a great job setting me straight, let me tell you!

Soon, I was back in Jans getting my boots fitted to my ski bindings. Boot Dude would not let me slide into the boots without parking them on the boot heaters for 5 minutes. Then, a quick review lesson in how to put them on. Apparently peeling them open from the collar, stuffing in the foot and then stomping down, hard, is NOT the preferred method. Nope…one should pull apart the leaves of the boot at the ankle, and the foot will slip into place, no problem. Yes, a quick kick-down on the heel is permitted. I’m now ruined forever for cold boots. I’m even considering splurging on a heated boot bag. Hear me out—Boot Dude said you can toss in boots, helmet and gloves, plug it in and it will dry and warm the whole lot. You can even plug it into the AC adapter in the car. Which is perfect for my ski days without the family—I really, truly prefer to boot up at the car, for reasons I can’t even explain.

Let me just say, the boots did not disappoint. The purple color made me smile (and ski better, I’m sure of it.) And the ski day, overall, was a huge success. Sunshine and sweet smiles of accomplishment from my kids go a long way to erasing a foul mood.

We tried out every obstacle on the hill—from the race course to Candyland, to a bumps area and even the new SunKid conveyor lifts. What a hoot! Plus, as the day wound to its end, Bucky made a surprise appearance. Apparently, he’s camera shy, so I couldn’t grab a photo at the top of the flower-pinwheel racecourse he and his pals had set up. My kids were thrilled to earn a prize just for agreeing to run the whirling “gates”—bubbles!

And the day ended in smiles!

We’ve all got a story like this. We got a bad fit, or we have skied too many days (years?) in boots whose linings are packed out beyond repair. I’m guilty of the latter crime. My boots, custom and dialed-in as they were more than eight years ago—that’s right, just after the birth of my first son—had nothing left to give. This was probably true at least a full season ago, but I didn’t understand it until I tried on new boots. Mind you, I didn’t buy them right away, but as soon as I donned my “old faithfuls” for opening weekend, I knew. I was committing every possible boot-wearing crime—the most egregious of which was clamping down buckles until I felt secure, so that my feet, ankles and knees (and, thus, my hips) were whacked way out of alignment. This, I decided, would not do.

I was, it turned out, over my emotional attachment to my boots. They’d served me well. But my dear friend and ski guru Steven pointed out, “we can find new favorites if we just try something new.” The switch flipped. I was ready to find new ski-boot love.

And what do you need to find love? Well, you need a good matchmaker. Because that’s really what a boot fitter is—someone who is ready to help you find the right boot match for your foot. Deer Valley Resort has plenty of venues for matchmaking. Notably, none of them are known for speed-dating you into boots. This is for good reason. I’ve always been partial to the guys at Jans. You can argue the virtues of your favorite shop, and I’ll believe you. But, the truth is, all skiers have their “shop,” and Jans is mine. Still, it’s not necessarily important that you shop there—just learn from my experience and demand the same level of attention from “your” shop. Good? Good.

Now, “my” guy likes to think he flies a little under the radar. (We’ll call him Boot Fitting Guy to help preserve his anonymity.) People march into the store and demand his attention—and he’s excellent at keeping people in “queue,” without making them feel like they’re being kept waiting. He’s lauded by his colleagues as the go-to guy, and he’s quick to deflect the praise right back at them. I’m not going to try to referee, but suffice it to say, you can trust that even if he’s not directly fitting your boot, he’s involved in the fitting. I’ve seen it—the guys move seamlessly between clients, offering a supportive, “good idea,” or concurring on a fit diagnostic.  Bottom line: Look for a shop that welcomes collaboration, where there isn’t one “rock star,” to whom all others pale in comparison.

My fitting went something like this:

My feet were measured. Yes, one is larger than the other. This is common.

We singled out the boot that I had researched—I’d even had the chance to try it on before the season started—The Fischer Zephyr90. Several other boots came along for the ride.

Before we put the boots on, Boot Fitting Dude gave me a quick primer on my feet, and how there are three Zones (Video) we should be concerned with.

Zone One: The instep and the shin. The instep, in case you’re confused, is the TOP of the foot, right in the middle. The underside is called the arch.

Zone Two: Heel, Achilles, and Calf

Zone Three: Toes.

“Don’t jump around. If you do, I’ll make you buy me a Deer Valley Cookie.” Since I’d already shelled out for my kids to raid the candy counter at the front of the store (yes, I was brave enough to bring them shopping—after we’d spent the afternoon on the cross country tracks at White Pine Touring—no, I’m not above bribery to keep the peace), this got my attention.

We slid my left foot into the The Fischer Zephyr90, and my right into an Atomic model. The Fischer felt like a snug, comfy slipper. The Atomic felt decidedly more “tight,” and I could already feel my toes crowding. I started to mention this, and the Dude (with apologies to Jeff Bridges) piped up with, “I’m starting to taste that cookie.” So I shut up.

Checking Zones in my Boots (Video)

Zone 1: Fischer boot offered no extra pressure on the instep. Nice. Atomic boot gave me a little pressure on that instep.

Zone 2: Fischer boot’s collar wasn’t too tight around my calves, cradled my heel and supported my Achilles without any pinch. This last bit felt like a revelation. Atomic boot gave that little pinch.

Zone 3: Ok, finally, I could talk toes. I flexed into position and found my toes sliding back from the tips of each boot. This is a good sign. The Atomic, in ski position, didn’t make as much contact with my toes as it did when I was standing straight. Still, I didn’t love the feel. Fischer, on the other hand? It worked. (Video)

Some things I learned as we continued on to the other boots: The collar of the boot should not be super-tight around the calves. Any time you clamp too tightly—either across the top of the foot or around the collar of the boot—you risk cutting off circulation, and thus making your feet too cold and cramp-prone.

Buckles should be “finger tight.” If you’re wrestling to close the buckle, it’s too tight. It will cut off circulation, and you will suffer through however many runs you manage before you hobble into the lodge for sweet relief.

And, the boot fit should be comfortably snug. My ski guru, Steven, and the Dude agreed that whether a person is buying boots or getting them from a rental shop, they need to be fully indoctrinated into the idea that the boot is “comfortably snug,” or it won’t function properly. Believe it or not, this means you can, technically, ski without closing the buckles on top of your foot.

Finally, the Dude told me something crucial. “Your boot will warm and soften as you ski,” he said. “It will feel looser. Resist the urge to tighten the buckle by moving the clasp over to the next notch. Instead, open the buckle and twist the micro-adjustment (the buckle will actually swivel on a stem) to the left.” As in, righty tighty, lefty loosey. Make one or two rotations, clip back into the same notch, and see if you’re more comfortable. Repeat as necessary.

Now, I’m completely stoked to try the boots.

I’ve been instructed to ski a couple of days in them before we start customizing them—I’ll need new footbeds, and we’ll see what other adjustments might be needed after I ski in them a couple of days.

I had hinted to my kids of its existence on a recent ski day—and as soon as we finished our runs, my kids asked, “Did we earn some frozen yogurt?” They loved choosing their flavors and toppings—Don’t tell our orthodontist, but even Big Guy, who had acquired braces earlier in the week, partook of the sweets. He’s a chocoholic, so the fudge sauce suited him just fine. “Mom, don’t worry,” he assured me, as I broke the news to him that gummy and crunchy toppings were not on his menu. “Fudge sauce definitely counts as a topping in my book.” Yes, Dr. Maxfield, we brushed copiously upon our return home!

The yogurt café sits behind a knee wall within NextGen. Naturally, I took the opportunity to browse for items in my size—petite types get away with shopping in the kids’ store and, yes, in the kids’ sizes, too. I was impressed with the variety of style and price points. Meanwhile, our style-conscious Little Guy took the opportunity to peruse the merchandise from his yogurt-eating perch.

“Look!” he demanded. “Look. At. That. JACKET! It’s super-cool. I want it.”

Ski Dad and I had to admit, it was super-cool. Brown pleather bomber jacket with tons of Top Gun-style patches and a faux-fur lining. I could almost hear Tom Cruise and Anthony Edwards shouting, “I feel the need, the need…for…SPEED!” Which could not be more appropriate for the type of “bombing” down the hill that Little Guy had displayed just half an hour earlier. Quickly, he lost interest in his yogurt and demanded that he be allowed to try it on.

As he put the jacket on, he assumed a “tough guy” stance and a grin as big as they get.

Needless to say, Hanukkah came a few days early.