Picabo Street, Billy Kidd, et. al: Americans at the Winter Olympic mountaintop

Someday, a dude with a chisel and too much Red Bull will carve their faces into a mountain. Seems only fair. For many of them carved their share of mountains as well.

Where are they now? Here’s a look at some of the nation’s Rushmore-caliber Olympic greats:

Picabo Street: Still bossing the boys

“I’m actually a full-time mom,” says Street, 38, the unlikeliest full-time mom you ever met till you remember she grew up as the only girl in her tiny Idaho town, the ultimate tomboy. Only then does her role as the mother to three young boys make sense. Her life has come full cycle: testosterone everywhere.

“I didn’t even really meet any girls till I joined the U.S. Ski Team at 15,” she says. “Oh, the drama then. . . . “

Now she’s busy raising three boys, Eli, 7, Trey, 5, and Dax, 6 months, with her husband John Reeser, an Alabama businessman.

The outspoken skier won the public’s attention for her strange but lyrical name, her counterculture upbringing and her tenacious gold-medal win in the super-G in 1998, in which she edged her opponent by .01 of a second.

Though busy on the home front, she makes time in her schedule to work as spokesperson for Essure, a non-surgical birth control method, and serve as a commentator for NBC, where you can catch her on the slopes with Matt Lauer Feb. 10 on the “Today” show.

Billy Kidd: Once a cowboy, always a cowboy

Kidd seemed like America’s first ski bum. He was born with a gunslinger’s name and, seemingly, a Stetson instead of hair. The Vermont native grew up to become one of the first world-class American men’s skiers.

And today: “I just want to get down the mountain without falling,” he says.

Now 66, Kidd has been director of skiing at Steamboat Ski Resort in Colorado for 40 years, one of the cradles of U.S. Olympic development.

“We’re sending 15-20 to the Olympics this year,” he says.

As for his own memories, he points to his landmark silver in 1964.

“Probably the most significant thing for me was that it happened with my teammate Jimmie Heuga, who took the bronze,” Kidd says. “The fact that we won medals together meant that the U.S. Ski Team had made it to the big time.”

Kidd, who plans to be at Whistler for the Vancouver Olympics next month, says the courage and mental toughness of ski racers continues to fascinate him.

“In order to win [in downhill], you need to push yourself to the limit at 80 or 90 miles per hour -- and then find a way to go faster,” he says.

Jim Craig: Still preaching miracles

For a while, Craig’s face was as American as the flag. As goalie for the 1980 “Miracle on Ice,” he was considered the backbone of the hockey team that defeated the Soviets and Finns to win the gold medal.

“The part I remember as an athlete was walking out to play the Russians in the third period and seeing all the excitement . . . the state troopers slapping us on the back and seeing so many people proud to be an American,” Craig recalls. “That was the first time that fans ever shouted ‘U-S-A, U-S-A.’

Today, in an accent still thick as chowder, the 52-year-old father of two travels the country for up to 50 speaking engagements a year. He also runs a successful Boston promotions and marketing firm and serves as spokesman for Gore Medical, a company that screens for abdominal aneurysms, the blood vessel weakness that killed his father.

He’ll be in Vancouver for the Games, where he’ll be looking forward to watching renowned U.S. goalie Tim Thomas, “who is everything an Olympian should be.”

More than anyone, Craig is aware of the pressures Thomas will be under.

“Goalies can’t win a game,” he says. “They can only lose a game.”

Bonnie Blair: Half the time, dinner is in the car

Blair had her own miracles on ice, five gold medals in speedskating, making her one of the most dominant American athletes ever.

Now, “half the time, dinner is in the car on the way to something,” the Milwaukee mother of two young sports-crazed kids explains.

Blair also does motivational speaking and serves on the board of directors for U.S. Speedskating and for the Pettit National Ice Center.

As spirited and likable as ever, the 45-year-old can rattle off her career thrill points as if they were yesterday.

“But two things stand out,” she says. “The Calgary win in world-record time. Doing something like that for the first time, that’s hard to describe.

“Second was my last medal in Lillehammer,” she says. “I knew it was my last, and it was a little sad . . . the last anthem and all of that.”

She and her husband, former Olympic speedskater Dave Cruikshank, will be taking the kids to Vancouver “to get an idea of what Mom and Dad did in the Olympics.”

Phil and Steve Mahre: Forever a team

Phil Mahre was lightning in ski boots, a technical marvel. He made one of the great comebacks in competitive skiing history, shattering an ankle in 1979, then silvering in the slalom a year later in Lake Placid. Four years after that, he and his twin brother Steve finished 1-2 in the slalom at Sarajevo.

These days, the 52-year-olds still team up, running the Mahre Training Center Ski Camps in Deer Valley, Utah, where they work with skiers of all levels.

They still reside about 20 minutes apart in Yakima, Wash., and do corporate events together. Now that their children are grown, they both hope to get back into road racing, a competitive auto racing pursuit they dabbled in during the late ‘80s and early ‘90s.

Both men will follow this year’s Games on TV back in Washington, but the events of 26 years ago won’t be far from their minds.

“I’ll never forget that podium because it completely changed the outlook of my career,” Phil says. “You listen to your national anthem and you think back to the family and friends who helped you along the way. It’s remarkable.”

chris.erskine@latimes.com