Alta Ski Area, a RIESTER client, is currently featured in the New York Times as one of the ten most affordable ski resorts in North America. In this post, senior executive Skip Branch discusses his long history with Alta, one of our country’s great mountain destinations.
RIESTER executive Skip Branch carves a turn at Alta where he has been skiing since the 1940s.
In 1948, my Dad moved our family from Pennsylvania to Utah. He was with the medical school at Penn and took a job with the medical school at the University of Utah. As a six year old, I knew nothing about skiing. Dad thought I should learn.
Some of his new friends at the university touted Alta as the mecca for skiing.
In our first year, I remember two glorious weekends at Rustler Lodge. Not only did we get to ski during the day but we stayed in the lodge overnight. A dashing Norwegian named Sverre Engen managed the lodge with his wife, Lois. He was a member of his brother Alf’s ski school and Dad asked him if he would start me and my brother off. As difficult as it was to learn the beginning techniques of skiing, I liked it. I remember liking it so much that I was angry at my parents when there wasn’t an avalanche that would close the canyon causing us to be snowed in at Alta.
From there it was group lessons with other kids in the area and at school. In High School, we all went skiing every Friday in the winter. Also, by then, I was on the ski team and entered races around the area. Most often races were held on Saturdays and if you weren’t in the top 10, you’d have to wait until the newspaper came out Sunday morning for race results. On a number of occasions, I would be first up, run get the paper, to find that I had placed 52nd or something like that. Hey, with over 80 racers, that’s not bad.
In 1963, after attending the University of Utah, I moved to Los Angeles to start a career in advertising. I only skied a few times. I’d fly home at least once during the winter and possibly ski a time or two at Mammoth Mountain in central California. After four years, skiing beckoned me home. Our young family, moved back to Salt Lake. Because of my position with the ABC Radio Network, I was able to parlay that into a job first as a copy writer at a local agency and later as national sales manager for the NBC TV affiliate, KUTV.
That first winter I was back to Alta. An old friend was a ski instructor at the Alf Engen Ski School and thought that I might be able to get a position too. I met Max Lundberg and Alf Engen in October 1967, and earned a slot as a weekend instructor. Because of being a junior guy, I didn’t get the plumb assignment of teaching some gorgeous lady from New York to ski powder. Rather, I got the kids from the Deseret Ski School who would come up to Alta every Saturday on school buses.
My first lesson was to see if I could get 50 kids between 8 and 12 years old into their skis and line up on the rope tow hill. The lesson lasted two hours and by the end I was sweating badly from picking kids and gloves and poles and skis off the snow. It worked. They were all standing in a row. Class dismissed.
I did that for two years, every Saturday and Sunday through the season. I became a better and smarter skier and met some marvelous people. Though a rather macho sport, people who ski are generally very kind, courteous and a lot of fun–especially at Alta.
In a few more years, I had expanded my brood to three. I had already introduced my oldest son, Scott, to Alta and as the other two got old enough, my youngest son, Brooks and his sister, Alison joined us. Most Sundays through the ski season, I’d pack a lunch and the kids in the car and off we’d go. They all started on the Alta Lodge rope tow. I’d place each kid between my legs and we’d whiz up the hill. I wore through a pair of ski gloves every season trying to keep them from falling. But we loved it.
So, the kids are grown and gone but each comes back to Alta every winter to ski their favorite mountain.
I’m now 67 and I heard Alta got two feet of snow yesterday. I’m outa’ here.
Utah is known for its great snow and Alta is the king of the powder receiving on average 500 inches of the white stuff every year. In this photo a telemark skier makes a turn at Alta--an American gem.
