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.