The Steamboat Pilot & Today

Joanne Palmer

Joanne Palmer's Life in the 'Boat column appears Wednesdays in the Steamboat Today. E-mail her atjpalmer@springsips.com

Note: To the best of my knowledge, these questions are more or less true. I have collected them throughout the years from shameless eavesdropping, hanging out in dimly lit bars and badgering friends who have worked as concierges, lift operators and shuttle drivers. As we all know, memory is selective, so enjoy them for what they are worth — a small respite from end-of-the-season-itis.

Are you the consommé?” a brain surgeon asked the concierge at Steamboat Springs’ most prestigious ski lodge. The startled woman looked up, and without missing a beat said she’d prefer being called the soup du jour. And so begins the end-of-season ski swap — sharing stories, not equipment, among the people paid to keep a straight face when tourists ask funny questions.

Long after the snow is gone, locals still are regaling each other with can-you-believe-the-questions-they-ask-stories.

“When do the deer turn into elk?”

“How much is the $9.99 breakfast buffet?”

“What type of fish is a cilantro?”

“What should I do if I see a snow snake?”

“Snow angels are members of Ski Patrol, right?”

Questions about the weather defy imagination. There is an assumption that every local has a direct link to the Weather Channel or the Snow God.

“When is the wind going to stop?”

“Will it ever quit snowing so we can ski?”

“Hey, let me give you Mother Nature’s e-mail address,” you’re tempted to say. But life in a ski resort requires that you smile and pour the next round for guests who are constantly surprised that it is snowing while they’re on a ski vacation. Or upset because it is a powder day. Or inquiring how a trail can be groomed if there’s still snow on it.

Some of the toughest questions are directed at lift operators:

“Does this lift go up?”

“Which run goes to the airport?”

“Do all the gondola cars go to the same place?”

“Are my boots too tight?” a student asks a ski instructor who is required not to laugh while informing him that they are on the wrong feet.

“Where’s my wife?” the gal at the Information Desk is asked. Interestingly, no one has yet to ask about a missing husband.

“Do you go to the Parmesan Inn?” a passenger asks a bus driver bound for the Ptarmigan Inn, a lodge named for the bird, not the cheese.

Every so often, the fact that we are a ski area is lost on people. An elderly woman calls in to insist she wants to travel by boat. “I want to take a ride on a steamboat! We’d like to start in Oregon and come back to Michigan.” Politely and sweetly she is told, “We aren’t a steamboat, we are a ski area.”

Moguls also are a source of confusion. “How are they made?” “Don’t they come from Hollywood?” “Where do they store them in the summer?”

Maybe it’s the altitude that causes visitors to check their brains along with their luggage. Maybe the Centers for Disease Control should be studying causes and cures of Vacation Virus. Maybe we should, indeed, have a dress code that prohibits bathrobes. No one had even considered the need until a visitor asked the maitre d’ at a slopeside restaurant if he could wear his to dine.

One local likes to tell about the license plate he wants for Colorado: “If you don’t ski, don’t bother.” This is just his opening remark before he gets started on his imitation of the woman who asked, “Can we get a room with an ocean view?” Or the teenager who has watched too many “Star Wars” movies who wants to know if we frost the trees.

And so the next time the skier sitting next to you on the gondola asks about the big warehouse near Heavenly Daze, tell him it’s where we keep the snow in the summer. We’ll be sure to put it all back next winter before they arrive.