SMALL SKI AREAS_>>
Small Area Culture Every day is different at a small area. For Mike, one day might be spent building the terrain park, another making snow or repairing the spring on a T-bar. I remem- ber a busy kids-ski-free day at Sawmill when he shepherded one family as they moved through the resort, from issuing their tickets, to the rental shop, to teach- ing a lesson, and even passing out a few T’s at the T-bar later that afternoon. Mike was like the butler in Mr. Deeds , the fam- ily remarked, appearing from thin air, exactly when needed, at every turn. They had no idea he was the owner. Mike manages a small, stellar team of dedicated individuals, including my dad, who has been the ski school director, patrol director, and head coach, some- times simultaneously. Just a handful work year-round. Everyone at the resort is expected to be task-flexible, and they excel during the busiest days. Mike always finds time to listen to his employees’ ideas about how to make things easier, better, or more efficient. “It is impossible to manage a ski resort well from a desk and a radio in one hand. You need to be out and about, supporting the staff wherever they need help most on any given day,” he says. “It builds connections with each team member and allows them to feel supported,” he adds. “In turn, they take more pride in the work they accomplish each day, knowing I would jump in to help them whenever needed.”
War Stories Mike and I trade stories like old friends rekindling after a long hiatus. His tales of war and peace are eerily similar to mine at Powderhorn, where I’ve served as gen- eral manager since 2018. While the scope might be a bit different in Colorado than in Pennsylvania, each of our stories could be told about either ski area—or any ski area across the country. “Why do people forget you exist until it snows, and then they all show up on the same day?” Mike muses. “I have no idea, but that is exactly what happens in Colorado, too!” I reply. Another thing we agree on: “The thing that really makes these small places work is the people. The community,” says Mike. “People are emotionally invested in this place. Not just me, or even the staff. But the guests that come to visit. “I had the thought that the pandemic might have been the end of us for a bit,” he adds. “All our groups canceled. It was tough to pay our bills. People had their fun removed from them. “But then, as we were able to reopen the next season, people came out in force. They wanted to recreate outdoors, locally. No one wanted to get on a plane to go out west. They fell in love with it all over again. I had so many people pull me aside to thank me just for being open to allow them to have fun again. “It saved us, but it saved a part of me, too. I felt like maybe all the hard days were worth it. People cared for us.”
The Joy of Skiing Mike’s dedication to Ski Sawmill as a business is clear after 25 years, and his passion for the sport is a beacon to all those around him. All three of Mike’s children grew up at the resort, working and skiing there just like I did all those years ago. It’s a lifestyle choice I aspire to emulate for my young daughter. I desire to provide those lifelong memories for her to draw upon, experiences that will inspire her to choose a lifetime of sport and health and joy. I ask Mike about skiing at other plac- es. “I prefer the feel and culture of the smaller, independent places these days. It makes me feel like I’m at home, and everyone there is there for the same rea- son,” he says. “If you can’t have fun skiing on 500 vert, you’re doing it wrong!” I quip. It was my grandfather’s twist on a famous War- ren Miller quote: “The best place in the world to ski is where you’re skiing that day.” It’s my favorite one-liner, and we both chuckle at it. “You’re right,” he replies. “Every time we go somewhere else, someone always comments on how my kids rip. They used to get bored, as teenagers do, so they would find ways to entertain them- selves by skiing. Turns out they just built their fundamental skills, and once they learned how to bend a ski, they had it all figured out. “We build great skiers and riders at Sawmill because they can find the time to work on skills and ski everything.” Parting Thoughts I realize that my visit has interrupted Mike’s lodge painting project, and figure Author Ryan Schramm, circa the 1990s, riding the Sawmill T-bar with his uncle, who began skiing there in 1969 when the hill first opened.
Seeing north-central Pennsylvania’s Ski Sawmill, and its 515 feet of vertical, from above.
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