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Robby Ellingson flips after skiing one of Mt. Baldy's terrain features. (Annie Wells / LAT) |
PERCHED on the edge of the metropolis, between desert and sea, the old Mt. Baldy ski resort looks as if it just tumbled out of a time machine.
The main lift manages to be old, creaky and borderline scary. The trail map nailed to the side of the lodge shows a terrain expansion slated for 1991 that still hasn't happened.
Along another snowless trail sits a pile of junk. In the heap, there are lifts from chairs, lift wires and grooming equipment of prehistoric vintage.
Baldy is not just a ski resort. It's a ski museum.
But fans like Craig Welch, who has been skiing the mountain north of Claremont since 1970, say Baldy has some of the best tree-skiing and expert terrain in the area. And then there are the views. The Rancho Cucamonga resident has clambered to the top of the lift shack on Thunder Mountain for vistas stretching from Victorville to Catalina Island. "You can practically count the boats out there," he says.
Asking skiers or ski hill owners what makes mom-and-pop resorts so special is like asking hard-core environmentalists why a bug or plant should be saved. Snow is snow; a lift is a lift. So often the answer comes down to aesthetics — a diverse world is more interesting than a vanilla one.
Founded in 1944 by a couple of aircraft workers who wanted to ski close to home, Baldy is the last mom-and-pop resort in operation in Southern California. That is, its owners aren't well capitalized, snowmaking is paltry and the skiing doesn't always take place on well-coiffed slopes. "We try to groom some of the major runs on weekends if equipment and personnel cooperate," says Gil Estrada, the director of the Mt. Baldy Ski Patrol.
Most skiers in the region gravitate to three big operations that used to be small but have now joined the network of big resorts: Mountain High in Wrightwood and the sister resorts of Snow Summit and Bear Mountain in Big Bear.
In the meantime, the mom-and-pops have pretty much pooped out (with the exception, perhaps, of Ski Green Valley, in the San Bernardino Mountains, which recently sold and expects to open soon, snowfall willing).
Mt. Waterman, along Angeles Crest Highway in the San Gabriels, probably won't open this year. Its sister resort, Snowcrest, has been damaged by the elements and vandals.
That has left Baldy as the lone relic that is still skiable. It has the most terrain of any of the local resorts, 800 acres, and the most vertical feet, 2,200, which is the equivalent of skiing from the top of Mammoth Mountain to the main lodge. But Baldy has little in the way of snowmaking compared with bigger resorts, though its system has been expanded for this year. In some seasons, more hikers buy lift tickets in the summer than do skiers in the winter.
"People want more and more snow," laments Pete Olson, one of Mt. Baldy's owners, referring to his competitors' prolific snowmaking. "In the old days they didn't expect snow all the time."
Of course, you have to be optimistic to own a ski resort in Southern California, and Olson sees great days ahead.
He just needs $20 million to $30 million to make it happen.
*
Vying for clients
SINCE 1985 the number of ski resorts in the United States has dropped from 727 to 494, according to the National Ski Areas Assn. That drop has coincided with another phenomenon: the number of people who ski or board in the U.S. has been stagnant for the past two decades, hovering at about 12.5 million.
That means the resorts that have survived are wrestling for the same pool of skiers. In Southern California, the winners have been the resorts that make serious snow.
Last year, Mt. Baldy had about 60,000 visitors, says its owner. Mountain High had more than 500,000.
The main lift manages to be old, creaky and borderline scary. The trail map nailed to the side of the lodge shows a terrain expansion slated for 1991 that still hasn't happened.
Along another snowless trail sits a pile of junk. In the heap, there are lifts from chairs, lift wires and grooming equipment of prehistoric vintage.
Baldy is not just a ski resort. It's a ski museum.
But fans like Craig Welch, who has been skiing the mountain north of Claremont since 1970, say Baldy has some of the best tree-skiing and expert terrain in the area. And then there are the views. The Rancho Cucamonga resident has clambered to the top of the lift shack on Thunder Mountain for vistas stretching from Victorville to Catalina Island. "You can practically count the boats out there," he says.
Asking skiers or ski hill owners what makes mom-and-pop resorts so special is like asking hard-core environmentalists why a bug or plant should be saved. Snow is snow; a lift is a lift. So often the answer comes down to aesthetics — a diverse world is more interesting than a vanilla one.
Founded in 1944 by a couple of aircraft workers who wanted to ski close to home, Baldy is the last mom-and-pop resort in operation in Southern California. That is, its owners aren't well capitalized, snowmaking is paltry and the skiing doesn't always take place on well-coiffed slopes. "We try to groom some of the major runs on weekends if equipment and personnel cooperate," says Gil Estrada, the director of the Mt. Baldy Ski Patrol.
Most skiers in the region gravitate to three big operations that used to be small but have now joined the network of big resorts: Mountain High in Wrightwood and the sister resorts of Snow Summit and Bear Mountain in Big Bear.
In the meantime, the mom-and-pops have pretty much pooped out (with the exception, perhaps, of Ski Green Valley, in the San Bernardino Mountains, which recently sold and expects to open soon, snowfall willing).
Mt. Waterman, along Angeles Crest Highway in the San Gabriels, probably won't open this year. Its sister resort, Snowcrest, has been damaged by the elements and vandals.
That has left Baldy as the lone relic that is still skiable. It has the most terrain of any of the local resorts, 800 acres, and the most vertical feet, 2,200, which is the equivalent of skiing from the top of Mammoth Mountain to the main lodge. But Baldy has little in the way of snowmaking compared with bigger resorts, though its system has been expanded for this year. In some seasons, more hikers buy lift tickets in the summer than do skiers in the winter.
"People want more and more snow," laments Pete Olson, one of Mt. Baldy's owners, referring to his competitors' prolific snowmaking. "In the old days they didn't expect snow all the time."
Of course, you have to be optimistic to own a ski resort in Southern California, and Olson sees great days ahead.
He just needs $20 million to $30 million to make it happen.
*
Vying for clients
SINCE 1985 the number of ski resorts in the United States has dropped from 727 to 494, according to the National Ski Areas Assn. That drop has coincided with another phenomenon: the number of people who ski or board in the U.S. has been stagnant for the past two decades, hovering at about 12.5 million.
That means the resorts that have survived are wrestling for the same pool of skiers. In Southern California, the winners have been the resorts that make serious snow.
Last year, Mt. Baldy had about 60,000 visitors, says its owner. Mountain High had more than 500,000.
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