The Lost Season

Back in January, I was itching to get past the slow start of the Oregon ski season. On the first Sunday of the new year, I ended up driving out to Mount Hood Skibowl for a cheap night on the mountain. We left after sunset, stopped at Arby's in Gresham, and drove through the rain to the little ski area in the foothills of Hood. It was raining on the slopes, too. For two hours, I rode the old two-man lifts through sprinkles and skied through slush with about 10 other hardy souls. The mountain was all but empty when I finally retired to the old warming hut for a plastic cup of Pilsner Urquell and a few minutes by a crackling fireplace.

Rough start to the season, I remember thinking, but it'll get better.

Well, damn if it ain't March. That night was one of only 11 days that Skibowl has been open this season. Three days later, it suspended lift service until more snow fell. We're still waiting. Skibowl's upper bowl has yet to open this season, the only time that's happened in at least the past 27 years.

"We have not given up yet. We are still hoping for snow to be able to reopen," says Skibowl spokesman Hans Wipper. "Everybody thinks winter is over—it's not yet, hopefully."

He's not necessarily being Pollyanna-ish. As Wipper points out, the Cascadian snowpack typically doesn't peak and start receding until mid-April.

"One big storm can drop two feet, and that's all it would take. We'd be back operating."

But, until that miracle storm—skiers and snowboarders are the only people I know envious of Bostonians—the season will be totally lost. The current 10-day forecast shows temperatures in the 50s and rain in Government Camp. Either way, it'll have been a brutal ski season for most of the Northwest.

Not for everyone, of course. Timberline, Meadows and Mount Bachelor have all kept their higher terrain open. Mount Ashland, which lost last season entirely, has been had a nice run this year. Anthony Lakes, a tiny resort near Baker City that has only 900 feet of vertical drop but sits at a lofty base elevation of 7,100 feet, tells me they've had an "epic" season.

Below 5,000 feet, the body count includes last weekend's annual venture down the glade trail from Timberline to Govy, a benefit for Mount Hood Cultural Center and Museum, which was moved up to the resort for lack of snow. Hoodoo, in the Santiam Pass east of Eugene, was open for only 11 days this year after a short season last year. The resort ignored several requests for comment, but has written a series of hopeful blog posts, the last coming in mid-February.

"While we're bummed that we had to temporarily shut down operations until more snow falls, don't think for one second that we're sitting around sobbing with sullen faces. That's not the Hoodoo way! We know that Mother Nature is preparing some truly awesome powder for us in the near future, and we can't wait until all of that delightful, white, fluffy winter candy starts dropping from the sky."

For Portland skiers and boarders, the main concern is Skibowl, a small resort which has some of the best terrain in Oregon. Owner Kirk Hanna—in 2005, Forbes profiled him as "the most audacious" resort owner in Oregon—bought it out of bankruptcy back in 1987. Rather than add high-speed quad lifts, he invested in summer activities, tubing and night skiing.

Now, 27 years later, that diversification seems especially wise. The tube hill has opened every week since Thanksgiving thanks to an investment in snowmaking equipment that piles up powder on clear, cold nights. They're doing more guided hikes for people who booked cabins early. And they're already getting ready for summer.

"Summer is increasing every year," Wipper says. "Skiing is still the flagship, but this year summer will be more profitable than winter was. We plan for these times. It's like farming—we're farming snow. It's all about the winds and the weather."

Maybe he's snowing me, but when Wipper says, "You gotta roll with the punches," it's calming.

Still, I'm glad I made that Sunday night drive back in January. Even in rain and slush, it was a fleeting treat.

Willamette Week