THE END OF SKIING
View from Gondola going up Bald Mountain
When I was seven years old, I began skiing, a lifelong learning process. It was a sport I have enjoyed my whole life—until this year. I skied along with my brother and my sister and my mother at Lookout Pass on the border of Idaho and Montana.
Lookout Pass, age 10
There was a line through the lodge designating which state we ate in, pulled on and tied ski boots, donned mittens and hats, and tromped out the door to the three rope lifts that pulled us up to our freedom rides downhill.
By fifth grade, I was ski racing with my friends for the Lookout Ski Club as a Mighty Mite and then an Intermediate. We wore red and white pullover wind jackets and traveled around to nearby ski hills, just like football and basketball boys did, on winter weekends. Art Audette was our leader, instructor, and all-around good coach. We rode in individual cars driven by parents, sometimes even my dad. Spokane Mountain, Spout Springs in the Blue Mountains, White Pass near Yakima, and our home base Lookout. There was no Schweitzer Basin or Silver Mountain in those days. One memorable winter, we were stuck between avalanches on White Pass and ended up spending the night at the lodge and still racing the terrifying downhill the next day. I wrote about that in my book, The Good Times Are All Gone Now: Life, Death, and Rebirth in an Idaho Mining Town (University of Oklahoma Press, 2009).
Our skis changed from wood slats without edges to Gresvigs, my first skis with metal edges screwed in. Then Head Standards—metal skis without peer—followed by Head Masters and Head 360s. At my adult height, I bragged about the length: 195s. Then skis began to shorten and widen and I made more transitions when I lived in Seattle. Ski boots changed from leather to plastic, from ankle high to mid-calf high, from Henke to Nordic to Dalbello.
When I left home to go to Seattle to attend the University of Washington, my home ground changed: Crystal Mountain, Stevens Pass, Ski Acres, Alpental, and Hyak. They were all so much larger and grander than Lookout Pass, I reveled in the challenges. In 1963, I discovered Sun Valley, an area I had only visited in the summer until then with my parents for my dad’s medical conventions. I already loved central Idaho. Skiing was the cherry on top. Nearly every year after that first time, I spent at least a week and sometimes weeks in Sun Valley, skiing. I met my second husband in Sun Valley. With him, I skied regularly at Stevens Pass and enrolled my daughter in the Buddy Werner ski class. Melanie never took to skiing in the same way I had, but she hung in until she married a man who didn’t ski. Such an event like that happened with my first husband, but never again.
In 1980, I married Gerry Morrison, a skier who loved skiing as I did: it was like food and shelter, necessary to live life. The fact that we were both lawyers sealed the deal. Since then, we have move
d to the Sun Valley area and built a house to live here full time. For a while, we kept two houses going. That became impossible, so we sold Seattle and put our roots down in central Idaho, leaving the practice of law and taking up two vocations in addition to frequent skiing in winter: writing and photographing. 
My skis kept changing–from Pre to Fischer to Elan to Rossignol. Friends in the ski industry recommended new varieties, all of which we tried. Then the skis grew fat for powder skiing—a development that kept me skiing probably ten to fifteen more years. Cold Smoke, red skis, and Scott Mission skis. Finally, age caught up with us. Skiing powder became impossible: we couldn’t get up if we fell! And then I couldn’t keep up with my wide-tipped, slender-waisted Rossignols. Gerry found Volkls and managed well, until he, too, had difficulty staying upright on them.
I explained some of my love for skiing in “The Perfect Day: How to Ski Heaven,” IDAHO Magazine, November 2008.
Last year, because of several years of heart problems, I learned I finally could not breathe at the altitude on Bald Mountain of the Sun Valley Ski Resort. A different heart problem emerged: a broken one. Now, I dream of skiing—whooshing down powdered snow slopes, whizzing around steep groomed turns, riding chairlifts and gondolas. I watch Mikaela Shiffrin—the best skier in the world with 93 firsts on the world cup circuit–and relive in my head my own racing days, not even a candle to her talent. This year, we wake to day after day of brown hills, frosted sage and bunchgrass, and long for snow, even though we know we won’t be sliding downhill in it. For now, the memory almost suffices.
Book Recommendations:
With my days no longer occupied by skiing, I have read more. I seem to devour mountain climbing stories, such as:
Touching the Void by Joe Simpson
Annapurna: A Woman’s Place by Arlene Blum
No Shortcuts to the Top by Ed Viesturs and David Roberts
A sampling of books I read in 2023:
The Six by Loren Grush – the story of the first six women astronauts depicting other mountains to climb.
Oath and Honor by Liz Cheney—A detailed description of the January 6, insurrection. I learned a lot about how the Republican side of the House of Representatives works in Congress
The Last Honest Man by James Risen—A book about Frank Church, Idaho Senator
A Traveler’s Guide to the End of the World by David Gessner
Novels:
Legends of the North Cascades by J. Evison—a tale of family and survival in the woods
The Long Flight Home by Alan Hlad—a story of pigeons
The Secret Diary of Sacajawea by Debra Magpie Earling
A friend recommended a new mystery series, which I have been indulging in between the non-fiction books: William Krueger and his main character Cork O’Connor, a former sheriff:
Iron Lake, Boundary Waters, Tamarack County, Manitou Canyon. Great reads!
All photos except the second and last are by Gerry Morrison.
Please share to friends and add comments if so inclined.
Nice piece, Julie. I always wanted to ski–I grew up in Seattle–but my life was filled with music and school. (I was in band, orchestra, Seattle Youth Symphony and took private clarinet lessons.) I finally did get up on the slopes when I was a senior, but I fell and sprained my ankle. I still love watching skiers.
Thanks, Mary. I still love snow, even though I don’t ski anymore. I was lucky to begin so young. Fortunately, I never broke a bone or had knee or hip problems! I have skied 73 years.
Julie: I love this piece. I did not learn to ski until I was 50. My parents were older so did not ski. We had sons who were hockey players so every weekend was spent at the ice rink. We finally took lessons when we moved to Breckenridge. I never quite got over my fear, but I did enjoy it until a couple of years ago when I decided the risk was greater than the reward. I am happy all of our grandchildren love to ski Sun Valley!
Thank you, Marcia! Our children and grandchildren love to ski here in Sun Valley, too, all except one.
Eighty years replaces many activities with memories.
Dean, they do indeed! Nice to hear from you!
I started skiing at the age of two riding up the rope tow hanging on to my dad’s legs. He was veteran of the battle hardened tenth mountain division ski troops.
I lived to ski but one day remarked to my dad I was getting bored with the same hills. He said, have you skied it going backwards?” Took a couple days but I told him yes , backwards wasn’t hard. His answer was, “ on one ski?”
Thus began many years of ballet skiing, freestyle skiing and face plants.
I loved it, taught it and competed. It was a glorious 60 years until a heart attack took me down despite being in outwardly great shape.
In a few months I was cleared to ski again but only with both feet on the ground.
Tried it.
Just couldn’t do it without spinning or flipping around.
I had to face it like you did. Stop or die.
A big chunk of spirit died the day I quit.
My kids and my grandkids all ski.and use the chalet my dad and I built in 1963.
I feel badly for those earth bound critters who never learned to fly. They haven’t known freedom.
I’m almost 80 and looking into hang gliding again.
Gravity is only for falling apples.
Thanks for your story, Art. There is nothing like the feeling of freedom in skiing, especially, for me, in light powder. I admire all you did with skis!
What a beautiful piece. Your life of skiing has been incredibly rewarding, especially since it has been a shared passion with Gerry!. I did not begin skiing until I was in my 30s, which really held me back, but some of my fondest memories include taking our daughter up to learn to ski and skiing with her and our Indian Princess tribe. By age 15, Kate could ski circles around me, and, alas, my good wife hates snow. So, reluctantly, I gave it up.
Thank you, Jim! We do miss skiing but still love the winter weather. We were lucky to share the love of skiing for so many years! It is nice to hear from you.
Love this Julie!! So many memories at Lookout pass!! It was the best way to spend Saturdays!! My dad would drive us there when there wasn’t a bus! He hiked and skied Wardner Peak in the 30’s! Lots of history for me there! Looking forward to your next book!!
And weren’t those bus rides fun? We had many days of skiing together, Judy, a sort of joint history. Thanks for your note!
Loved the skiing piece – my dad was a ski instructor…so every weekend…
I had completely forgotten about being PROUD of the length of skiis. I recall 210…Red Rossignols which were a move up from the Kastles….Dad always bought me the best.
Too bad, unlike you, I did not entirely fall in love with the sport.
BEAUTIFUL pictures. Sorry for the loss…but what memories you have!
Thank you, Randi! I’m glad to hear you were a skier, too. It really has been my life’s passion and maybe your father’s too. I do have wonderful memories and they crop up in my dreams, as well as my writing. 🙂 So nice to hear from you!
Julie
Hi Julie, Jack and I know exactly where you are coming from. Such sadness to give up something that has been so much part of our lives, especially, of course ,Jack’s. Last night he stayed up to watch a ski race at 11:00 pm. I guess that will need to be his new normal, watching others ski. He will not give up his skis but finally let me put them in the garden shed in Packwood.
Oh Sally, I know you and Jack both feel the same way. I can’t bear to get rid of my skis either. We have always watched the ski races, but can’t seem to get them this year. Being here in SV makes the lack of skiing bittersweet, but we are still enjoying the snow and cold!
Julie
Oh Julie, this piece makes my heart hurt as I know I’ll be facing the end of skiing someday. In 2018 I fractured and displaced my tibial plateau at Ski Cooper in Leadville and then had reconstruction surgery, so now I ski with a titanium plate in my leg. I switched to Blizzard skis and Nee bindings, and I’m way more conservative on the slopes, but just got diagnosed with osteoporosis. I will ski next month in Vermont, but how much longer I wonder? Each season is a gift at this point. I’m so impressed with your racing background! I would have loved that but I never actually lived in ski country as a kid. What wonderful memories you have to look back upon!
Hi Julie, I enjoyed your blog. Where I grew up in NW Montana and Idaho, Libby and Bonners Ferry, few skied. Some cross country, but no ski resorts in the area then. When Ron and I married we moved to his hometown in Kansas. No ski resorts there. You wrote about covid. Ron passed in 2018 and began within hours to let us know, he was still with us and within a few months began to work on me to write a book about my life that would expose what I’ve kept hidden from him and everyone else. I have some extra sensory perception, my first remembered premonition at age five, the terrifying knowledge that our daddy was soon to leave us. I resisted Ron’s efforts as I was not willing to reveal my oddities to the world, but eventually he won me over and so in bits and starts I got most of the book written and then I stopped. Sometime later, I was exposed to covid and during my quarantine I started writing again and this time I finished the task. My book, titled This Thin Veil Between US, is available on Amazon and can be ordered through bookstores. It’s premise: Our loved ones who have passed are so much closer to us than most realize. Although the book is published and Ron’s been in heaven six years, he’s still active in my life.
Thanks for your comment and story, Eunice. Nice to hear from you!
Thanks for your note, Brigid! I’m sorry about your ski accident–sounds bad. I never did ski on Blizzards, but I know they are good skis. Take care in Vermont, and I hope your skiing days last a longgggg time!
Julie
I’m with Gerry. Volks all the way.
Rossis for me. 😀
I’m so sorry you’ve had to give up skiing. My husband and I skied a lot during our first years of marriage, but then the cost became prohibitive, so we had to give it up. I loved it too! May you find new adventures!
Thank you, Heidi! We have been involved in the ski industry itself, so that helped with the cost of skiing, which, as you point out, has soared. I do miss the skiing, and now that the snow is finally falling around us, even more so. My new adventure, along with you, is writing novels. I have loved reading yours! I miss seeing you at WWW, but will try to get there again this year!
Julie:
Thanks for this. This would have been my 76th ski season. Twenty-five of them living in Sun Valley. When I sold my gear to Play It Again Sports last week I was grieving and jealously wondered if you and Gerry were going have another season on my favorite mountain. Having read your celebration of the life and touching, beautiful memories of how it looked and felt, I’m embarrassed to have felt any jealousy.
I’ve been mourning since I left the Valley though continued to ski backcountry for a few years then bought super senior season passes at Whistler until last year. It was hard to face the truth, but the last time I skied it was a great powder day but I fell and, like you, couldn’t get up. It was time.
Thanks again for this celebratory reminiscence. I loved it.
You’re way ahead of me as a writer but I’m enrolled in a two-year non-residential novel writing program at Stanford. There’s always something good ahead.
Hello to Gerry. I pimped him about Stanford because I went to Boalt but now I have to suck it up though I still think Berkeley is a better law school.
Best,
Jack
Thanks, Jack, for your lovely note. We are lucky to have had so many years of great skiing, especially here in Sun Valley. Congratulations to you for taking a novel-writing class from Stanford! You might like all of my books set in Idaho in the 1920s–a little early for ski days, although I do manage some cross-country skiing and snow-showing, long before SV opened. Check out my “Books” section here on my website. I am having fun digging into Idaho history (you may not know my family came to Idaho in the 1870s, and I grew up in Kellogg, Idaho). Keep me posted on your novel!
I so feel your pain, Julie and as always am so impressed and inspired by the warrior you are.
Much love and continued success in finding new ‘slopes to ski’.
I am so proud of you! ❤️
Thank you so much Doc Chery. You are the one who is the warrior! So glad you are feeling better. I love reading about you, your sweet dog, and your kitty.
Wow Julie! I’ve learned about an entirely different side to you I didn’t realize existed!! You are my new Idaho hero!! ⛷️ What a magnificent life you’ve lived!! I admire you greatly.
Thank you, Linda! We have been so lucky in our lives. And part of the luck was staying a winter at your place and deciding we could manage full tiume in Sun Valley, especially if we could ski. Now, we’ll find out when we can’t ski. I love this snow today! Sorry to be slow answering.