Delighted

DELIGHTED: Skiers cheer as they head to an upper lift at the Mt. Waterman resort. The resort lacks snow-making equipment, but it faces north, keeping the sun's rays from melting the snow as quickly as can happen at other ski facilities. (Robert Gauthier / Los Angeles Times)

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The Mt. Waterman Ski Patrol never really went away. Although the lifts stopped running five years ago, its members stayed in touch and trained together. With the passion that unites this mountain's skiers, they kept updating their website with new photos, ready to post the news that it was reopening to skiing.

Grand plans came and went. Thirty miles above La Cañada Flintridge in the Angeles National Forest, the chairlifts remained frozen in place.

"There were times when it was an act of faith to believe it would come back," said long-time ski patrol member Saul Traiger, 53, of Los Angeles.

But come back, it did.

The Mt. Waterman Ski Resort, a vintage throwback to the early days of California skiing, reopened under sunny skies Saturday.

More than 200 slope veterans and curious newcomers flocked to this small, 115-acre ski area known for engendering loyalty bordering on cult status among those who skied its slopes. One of California's oldest ski resorts, it was founded in 1939 by the Newcomb family and run by Lynn Newcomb until 1999, when it was sold to new owners, who closed it and then resold it again.

The new owners, a group of La Cañada natives and longtime Mt. Waterman skiers, rushed to get it open in time for Presidents Day weekend, a peak time for ski areas.

The news traveled largely by word of mouth, bringing tanned, T-shirted young snowboarders, veteran downhillers and families to test the snow.

"It's a big deal for us. It's the local mountain," said Mike Galvin, 32, as he stood in the tiny parking lot off Highway 2. A native of nearby Pasadena, he said he prepared for opening day by checking out slopes the last two weekends, carrying his snowboard as he hiked a mile uphill on snowshoes.

"This place is sort of spiritual for all of us," Galvin said. "To be in the city of Los Angeles and then come up here and be away from all of that -- your forget about everything you do back at home."

The ski patrol came back as well.

With a certain incredulity mixed with boisterousness, red-jacketed patrol members stood watch at the patrol's old wooden "Bump Shack" at the top of Chair 2, two emergency toboggans at the ready, as skiers and snowboarders slid down the ramp and sped for the slopes.

What kept the ski patrol going, they said, was their love of the mountain. Next to Mammoth Mountain and Tahoe resorts, it is minuscule -- just three chair lifts, all run by diesel power.

Trails wind through tall pines that muffle the sound. The noisy hubbub of larger, more crowded ski areas is missing here.

"It's still a very natural alpine mountain. It's not a freeway," said veteran patrol member Keith Tatsukawa, 47.

Some details remain unfinished.

Most trails still lack the traditional blue, green and black signs indicating the difficulty of the slopes, although a staff member said the signs should be added next week.

Only two of the three chairlifts were running Saturday, and the kitchen at the top of Chair 1 was not yet open.

So the area hired caterers who grilled the obligatory burgers and chili cheese dogs for a lineup of hungry skiers who washed down the food with Gatorade.

"It's kind of a grass-roots opening," said Tom Moriarty, a longtime Mt. Waterman employee who helped with the planning.