Late Season in Southern Minnesota

In mid-March I paid a visit to Mount Kato, a small hill in southern Minnesota. It's like most ski and snowboard areas in the state: limited terrain, small vertical drop, and a small area. But during the right time, it also offers a way to spend some time on the snow.



The snow is long gone, I've already started to play golf, and I even paid a visit to the summer cottage. But during that visit I came across some notes I took on the day of my visit to the city of Mankato and Mt. Kato. They're reprinted below.

March 12, 2008
The conditions today were, to borrow from Bart Simpson, craptacular. More then half of the named slopes were closed, including, if I'm reading the trail map correctly, the longest ones. No doubt their relative flatness was a factor in their closure, as was the fact that they face into the setting sun.



Closing that terrain means closing lifts, which in turns means saving money on wages. Wages, in turns are an important consideration given that at this point in the season, traffic is meager and limited (most likely) to season pass holders and not new ticket buyers. There were, I would guess, no more than 20 customers all afternoon. Again, since they were probably season ticket buyers, marginal revenue was almost nil.



For my part, I paid $0 for my pass (part of a pass-sharing arrangement between two ski areas) and drank some bottled water that I brought with me.

Now here's an idea for ski areas: cut the food prices at the end the season. You already cut lift tickets in an attempt to draw in more customers. Why not cut prices on food? Or offer a free refill on fountain drinks? I thought of paying $1.25 for a small Coca-Cola, but then I saw the sign that said "No Free Refills." At this point of the season, why not? The incremental cost to you is meager, but shouldering it would have induced me to pony up.

Of the five chair lifts visible from the base, only two were running today. They led to nine distinct slopes. One lift served two green slopes, which, given the snow condition, were nearly unusable (too flat, too slow).

That left only one lift, requiring that skiers pole and riders skate or walk at the top. On the other hand, it does look like the area is well laid-out for those days with heavy traffic.

As you might expect from an area in the Midwest, the diamond runs had some steepness to them but were very short. In fact, the chair lift required only 5 towers to go from the base to the peak.

A small terrain park had two kickers, a dance floor, a high rail, a box, a c-rail, the remnants of a quarter pipe, and perhaps another feature or two. I slid on the dance floor (a wide sheet of plastic that requires getting zero air) but did not take on any of the other features. Parks rates will probably enjoy the chair (not running today) that is closest to the park. I could have tried the dance floor a few more times, but the effort to get there--some skating up on top, or hiking back up--was more bother than the floor deserved.

The base village is much what you would expect: a building for the office, another for ski patrol, a rental shop, and a chalet with (for legal reason) an adjacent bar.



The chalet has two levels, with an outside balcony that should be (but isn't) standard in day areas. The lower level of the chalet has the ugly concrete floors of its corporate sibling, Afton Alps.



A lower-level lounge has a feature unusual among the 15 or so Midwestern areas I've visited: a small changing room. Much like its counterpart in department stores, it has a mirrow, and the door doesn't reach to the floor. The "old" skis on the wall, meanwhile, were from only the 1970s or so and not really old-school. No old snowboards.

Speaking of snowboards, I saw something unusual on the office building: A sign that reads "Snowboards must have metal edges and leash." I wondered how old that sign is. Snowboards without metal edges re either older than old, or mere playthings.

The end of the season gave employees of the area new tasks, including keeping the melting snow under some measure of control. One employee was smoothing out the snow, far from the lift. When I left, two others were digging a trench in the snow, to channel the melt.

I finished up the day with a dinner and professional meeting in town.

Resort Review: Welch Village

Welch Village is a small but pleasant place for riders and skiers in southern Minnesota, northern Iowa and western Wisconsin. Now if it only would have a more honest trail map.

Welch is one of the several ski areas in the Twin Cities area. It's southeast of Saint Paul, beyond land that is still home to corn fields and cow pastures. A friend of mine says "In Minnesota, we don't ski down mountains; we ski down to rivers." And that's certainly the case for Welch Village. Its 330-or-so vertical feet aren't of the "Mount Trashmore" variety, in which a bump on the land is created through the development and then closure of a landfill.

Instead, Welch's slidable surfaces come about because you descend into a river valley, take a lift up to the "normal" altitude for the region, and then take your snowboard or ski back down. Hey, at least you've got the scenery of a river, on your short (one intersection) trip through "downtown" Welch.

A recent trip to Welch Village the day after a major snowstorm convinced me of this fact: It wins the award in the Twin Cities for "most treacherous last-3 miles of approach." The trip from the north is on County Road 7, two-lane, twisting road that goes both down (and sometimes back up, temporarily) and side-to-side on its way to the Cannon River, "downtown" Welch, and then to the ski area. It's a great drive on a summer day when the sun is shining and you're in a convertible with the top down. But the drive can be a bit uncomfortable during the winter when the roads are snowpacked and slippery.

Welch isn't the largest ski area in the Twin Cities, nor does it have the longest runs. But I do like the feel of it. I can't explain why or what exactly. Maybe it's the drive there, both on County Road 7 and 240th street, which goes straight but which has a series of 50-foot peaks-and-troughs. Maybe the trees are more interesting. It could be that the base village looks marginally more attractive than those found elsewhere. Again, I'm not sure why, but I like it.

Welch faces north, with 3 major sections. From the top of the middle grouping of lifts, you can descend into any of those sections. You can also go, if you get the right lift, go from east to west in one lift ride and one run. But you can't make the west-to-east trip in just one trip; the layout doesn't allow for that, and the permanent closure of one run--more on that later--doesn't help matters.



My favorite part of Welch may be the eastern section. It's got a couple of country-road runs through trees, both which open into a meadow suitable for trying ground 360s, small jumps, or the maximizing-snowboarding-time maneuver known as riding from one edge of the meadow to the other.



The east also has a couple of green runs that require some skating to get to from off the lift, but which can reward you with powder (along the edges) after the good stuff has been smashed down elsewhere. But these beginner trails actually require some intermediate skills to use properly, as they empty out into a long nearly-flat road that actually has a slight incline just before it drops down into the meadow. If you're going to avoid a quarter-mile walk, you better keep up your speed, which newbies can find unsettling.

The east is also the home of the promised "future back bowl." This has been on a feature on trail maps for at least 3 seasons if not longer. Two years ago I was told that the timber harvesting was going to start soon. During my recent visit, I did notice a construction fence beyond the easternmost lift. And sure enough, I did see a space that appeared to have been cleared of trees, at the top of a ravine. I wished I could have gotten a better view of what the terrain might look like, but I respect private property, so I stayed within the fence line. The day was overcast so I couldn't see far into it. I'm looking forward to riding into this terrain should it ever open, but I suspect there's a lot of work yet to do, including installing pipes for snowmaking (an essential around here), installing lifts, and before all that, the enduring the environmental review process.

The east section of Welch is also home to Madd Jaxx, the place to enjoy an adult beverage. Tailgating commonly takes place in the parking lot, which is accessible to the main base area by a dirt road. Jaxx has the usual collection of ski bar kitsch: old skis and snowboards nailed into the ceiling; a license plate from a state (Montana--Minnesotans seem to love Montana) blessed with far better terrain; and advertisement after advertisement for beer and hard liquors. That latter--including a 4-foot tall poster of Captain Morgan--is a bit over-the-top for my preferences, but then again, I don't own the place.

Moving from east to west, you have a couple of decent diamonds that are used for slalom racing, which is a big deal in these parts. There's also a bumps run--which I tried but didn't handle too well--and a sorta-kinda halfpipe. Welch did have a very good halfpipe two or three years ago, but it's gone, replaced by more kickers and other park features.



The steepest section among the always-open slopes is called Chicken. It's reasonably gentle on top and becomes more severe until right before the end. I don't straightline it.

After you ride the top fifth of Chicken, you can take a short path to the east and another trail. The name of that path: Chicken Little.

If you keep riding on Chicken until just before it drops off, you have another opportunity to leave, to the west. The name of that exit: Chicken Out. A sense of humor is also evident in the name of a beginner's trail of "Mary Jane." I'm not thinking of reefer so much as the bumps run at Winter Park that has the same name. What a contrast.

Welch also has a decent-sized terrain park with rails and kickers. It used to be home of the halfpipe, as I said, and even before that, Eurocarvers used to love the space as a place to do their magic. No more.

Terrain is what it is, and I can't fault Welch for not being Whistler. But if there's one thing that I can fault it for, it's the trail markings. Welch, like a lot of areas, inflates its trail count.

The marketing material boasts of 50 runs. But in in the five years that I have been visiting (at least once a year, some years, often), a few maps on the trail have never been open. These include (for those of you in the area): Southern Cross, Eastern Star, Adam's Rib, and Cedar Fork. There are also two double-diamonds that I have never seen open. I've been told that they do get used on powder days, though truth be told I'm not sure that I'd want to try them. If you would, get there exactly on the powder day; if you're there the day after, you'll be out of luck.
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Another problem with the trail count is that things that should never have a separate name do. Two short trails start at the top and then merge to form a single trail? Three names.



One unique feature of Welch is that none of the eight lifts are rope tows. That's good for newbies, and for snowboarders generally. Speaking of newbies, Welch has a solid area for novices, complete with a mini-terrain park in which the features are mere inches above the ground.

Make sure you know what lifts are running before you start; in non-peak times, the eastern slopes are closed, and the closure of some lifts can leave riders with a long walk back to a chair.

Ski Area Review: Trollhaugen, Wisconsin

While Twin Cities riders and skiers don't have much terrain to work with, they do have several lift-served areas to choose from.

Trollhagen, like other ski areas in the region, has modest terrain that tops out at about 300 feet. It does a good job with the terrain park, which of course makes the place attractive to younger riders and skiers.

Troll, as some people call it, gets the award for the best atmosphere and services. The chalet has good views of the slopes and looks like a ski lodge should more than any other in the Twin Cities. It also has a coffee shop, with sit-down service that has more of a "casual dining restaurant" feel than coffee shop. The downstairs part of the building isn't as fancy, though: food is for sale through a stadium-style window; the tables could have come from a school cafeteria; and the floor is cement. On the upside, cement floors mean no 20-year old carpet.

An adjacent building houses a ski shop that is leased to a private concern. This specialization of service serves the customer well; the shop had the best selection of gear and accessories that I've remembered encountering in these parts. On my visit here, I bought some goggles for night riding.

Unlike any place I've been to, you have to pass through a guarded fence to get to the slopes. There's a single gate that you use, and a resort employee watches to make sure you have a ticket. This "feature" is perhaps simply a belt-and-suspenders approach to making sure that people pay up; after all, lifties aren't always diligent in checking for tickets.

One odd quality of the lodge is that it sits higher than the lifts. After passing through the gate, you must drop about 30 feet. For skiers, this isn't such a bad thing; step into the bindings, slide down, and then you're at the lift.

Snowboarders, on the other hand, could have trouble. They must either walk down the hill to a lift, or buckle/strap/step in just beyond the gate, and then unbuckle or step out after a very short ride. Some snowboarders could ride towards the lift with a single foot in the binding, but I wouldn't recommend it for the novice or intermediate rider.

Trollhaugen has two learning areas, Minibakken and Mickenbacken. I saw only Minibakknen, and even then I didn't take the rope to the top of it. What I saw, however, looked too narrow for learning snowboarding.

Ropes play a large role at Troll. Of the 8 lifts listed on the trail map, 5 are ropes. One entire section of the resort is, unfortunately, served only by a rope tow. I did not venture over there, and stayed with the chair-served terrain. One skier I met said that if you "go up that thing three or four times, your arms will fall off." As a result, four named runs and (judging from the map) about 25 percent of the skiable area is off-limits.

Only two of the 18 named runs that are not in the learning center are green. One, I believe, is the entrance to the halfpipe, The other green run, Bjorkedahl, is perhaps the longest run (though still of course short). But its "playability" gets nicked by the presence of a halfpipe. I did not ride through the pipe--for one thing, getting to the top of it requires a fair amount of hoofing--but the time I was there, it looked well constructed.

As you might expect from a small Midwestern resort, there is plenty of room for freestyle riders. Valhalla is a terrain park with kickers (one rather large) and some rails. It is served by a rope tow, as is a small unnamed area that offers beginning jibbers two different rails. Oddly enough, I saw no rainbow rails or fun boxes. Perhaps they were over in the rope-only region.

There are only two named runs suitable for what passes for cruising in the Midwest. Storebakken has a somewhat tight launching area that leads to a short steep section that flattens out; Galende is an under-the-lift run that narrows towards the bottom.

One of the blues, Lee's Run, has two branches; one has some rolls and swells, but both let you get to The Chute and Jumpen Judy, two black diamonds that get their rating not from the pitch as much as from their narrow width.

Nissenbakiken is a blue offers riders a little chance to play with a mini-bowl at the top before it leads into something approaching a couloir. Juliebakken, another blue, has several mounds, though I'm not sure if those are natural features or caches of snow.

Trollhaugen also offers snow tubing, which is common for Twin Cities resorts, and a cross-country area (2.5km), which isn't.

The Midwestern Connection

The Midwest has plenty of good qualities, but great snowboarding terrain is not one of them. Even so, the region develops plenty of skiers and riders, as the Chicago Tribune describes ("Midwest resorts excel in ski lessons," January 20, 2008)

It mentions that there are “more than 100” ski resorts in the region. You can, by the way, see the web site of all of them through GraysOnTrays: see the Great Lakes page for Ohio, Indiana, and Michigan, and the Midwest page for Illinois, Wisconsin, Minnesota, Iowa, Missouri and the Dakotas.

According to one official of Vail Resorts (which owns Vail, Breckenridge, Keystone, Heavenly and Beaver Creek resorts), Chicago is once again the second city—this time in providing the most number of customers to the company.

The Tribune article describes regional ski areas, including Wilmot (Wisconsin), Grand Geneva (Wisconsin), Shanty Creek (Michigan) and others.

If you’re interested in a long-weekend getaway to introduce your children to skiing or snowboarding, the article is especially useful, because it describes the children’s programs at various resorts.

Did you ever wonder how the number of snowboard instructors compares with that of ski instructors? Wilmot has 240 instructors, of whom 60 are snowboarders. Assuming that nobody among the 240 teachers both skiing and snowboarding (most likely an invalid assumption, but close enough to the truth), that’s a ratio of 3 ski instructors to every 1 snowboard instructor. That sounds similar to industry averages for the customer base, but I digress.

Are you ready for a magic carpet ride? The director of the snowsports school at Grand Geneva says they "have really revolutionized the learning process" for helping students—especially children—spend more time trying to make turns and less time grappling with the rope. I certainly would have benefited from a carpet too, as it took me quite a while to handle a rope tow during my early days on a board.

Where's the Love for Snowboarders?

I really don't care if any particular ski area company allows snowboarders on the slopes or not. On the other hand, if a resort is going to expect snowboarders as customers, it should accommodate their gear.

Recently I was at Lutsen, which has perhaps the finest lift-served terrain in the Midwest. It has a shuttle bus--an old school bus--that takes customers from the parking lot to the base area.

That's good. What could be better? Start with the outside. It has a rack for holding skis. And not snowboards. The slots are simply to narrow to hold a board, meaning that snowboarders must take the bus on board.


(The shuttle bus is like one of these, but it's painted red--and probably quite a bit older--and has a rack with slots for skis.)

My board is on the long side (162cm) but not outrageously so. But I had trouble maneuvering it through the narrow, relatively short door and up the steps. There's not much room between the seats, either--this is the kind of bus, after all, that transports children to school. The bindings on my board don't collapse, and they fell at just the "wrong" places on my body and against the back of the seat in front of me.

Not having a storage space for snowboards outside the bus affects everyone who takes the bus, not just snowboarders. Snowboarders, I suspect, must take some extra time to get themselves on and off the bus, which slows down loading and unloading for everyone else.

The solution? Put a second rack on the outside of the bus, one that is wide enough to fit boards.

Resort Review: Spirit Mountain

Over the weekend I paid a visit to Spirit Mountain, in Duluth, Minnesota. It's as good a time as any to offer an introduction to this place.

Small but steep (for the Midwest) describes this place. But let's start with the most obvious feature of Spirit: it looks onto Lake Superior, the largest body of fresh water in the world. Actually, St. Louis Bay is much easier to see than Lake Superior, but if you work at it, you can sometimes see glimpses of the greatest of the great lakes.

Its 700 feet of vertical drop is, if I recall correctly, the third highest in the region, after Lutsen and Mt. Bohemia (both are somewhere in the 900 to 1,000 foot range). But it has a fairly small footprint, at only 125-150 acres. My understanding is that there's a lot more terrain that could be used for snow sliding, but isn't currently.

Spirit may have the best and largest terrain park in the Midwest. Understandably, most members of the Grays on Trays community have little interest in the park, but Spirit's standing should be noted.

Mason Aguirre, member of the U.S. Olympic team in 2006, now lives out west, but learned to ride at Spirit. That legacy continues on the mountain, which is home to the best freestyle riding I have seen in the Midwest. (The slope that normally hosts the pipe has not yet opened for the season).

By using a reasonable amount of caution, even a cruiser can enjoy the park, whether it's by watching (a lift that spans the length of the park is a good place to start), or maneuvering around the features.

If you want to give the pipe a try, it's a good one, with a wide transition area (the "floor"). If nothing else, you might want to ride straight down the middle and see how tall the walls are. Last season I rode up the walls a few times and made turns along the way. For what it's worth, that was enough to impress the 20-year old who was companion for a few trips through the park.

The marketing department touts the mile-long "Four Pipe," but this green run is wide open and therefore not as interesting as "Timber Cruiser," which is a few runs to the right as you face downhill.

Early beginners may find its turns and tighter width a worthy challenge, or perhaps a bit intimidating. But once you can confidently link turns, Timber Cruiser is good for, well, cruising with the trees in a bit closer. It's open enough to not feel like a glade, but tight enough to give the feeling of, if you use a bit of imagination, a real mountain.

Five chairlifts serve the area, not all may be operating at once. On a day I was there late last season, locals complained that the "Spirit Express" (the lift that serves Four Pipe and Timber Cruiser, among others) is the slowest express chair around. The base machinery on this quad is unbearably loud.

Until this season, that chair came with a bubble, which was useful on windy days. But citing "maintenance issues," management decided to do away with the bubbles this year.

Spirit Express draws more traffic than any other lift, but during heavy times, employees did a good job of matching up singles with doubles or triples to maximize the traffic flow. Over this weekend the longest wait I had was 7 chairs deep. If that's too much for you, the other lifts are sometimes wide open.

Gandy Dancer (a diamond) has got natural rollers that are more up and down than side to side. Be careful to pick your line as you approach lift tower 5; it had a nasty "well" on the uphill side. I also like Binder Stick and Sky Hook. A friend of mine reminds me that many of the trail names reflect the logging heritage of the Minnesota northwoods.

Spirit also has a beginner's area at the very top, near the lodge. Late last season, it was fenced off (not so this weekend), which keeps schussers at bay. But it's pretty small, and adults will outgrow it pretty quickly. It's probably fine for the very basics, such as stepping onto the board, getting familiar with heelside and toeside, skating, and simple J-turns. But once you start falling leafs, you will probably head over to Four Pipe.

Spirit's season pass of $169 (tax not included) is likely the best deal in the Midwest, and it carries a teaser rate of $119 for the first year. The lower prices come in part because Spirit is owned by the City of Duluth. On the one hand, skiers and riders will appreciate the lower price. But since the city has competing demands for its money, the area is likely to remain underdeveloped for a long time, and its non-profit status is a sore point for resorts with private ownership, who must compete against government.