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Show Page A14 B Thursday, February 25, 1993 The Park Record Section A DIVERSIFIED RESTAURANT CORPORATION AND PARK CITY HANDICAPPED SPORTS THANKS THE FOLLOWING FOR THEIR GENEROUS CONTRIBUTIONS TO STARRY NIGHT Adolph's Agency Rent-A-Car Ambrosia Catering Ange Clegg Annie McMullen Baja Cantina Bald Eagle Properties Ballet West Barbara Zimonja Basket of Gold Beau Biden Beth Hoffmeister Beth Thrin Black Diamond Bob Judelson Bonnie Peretti & Steve Chin Cafe Terigo Chamber Music Festival Chez Betty Choir Kids Allie Schneider Annie Miller Brittany Sacco Brooke Miller Clayton Elbert Faith Sandburg Michael Niereubeiser Paul Roberts Richie Smail Zach Smail Chris Jacobs Chums, Ltd. Cindy Guenther Coldwell Banker Premier Collin Ellingson Cooperative Communications Cottonwood Hospital Craig Fisher Craig Smith Cristi Smith Cruise & Travel Masters Cynthia Evans Dan Fouts Dave Allred Dave Shields Deer Valley Resort Deer Valley Lodging Delta Airlines Dena Fleming Design Innovations Destination Sports Diamond Lil's Diversified Restaurant Corp. Dobson's Dusty Orrell Ed PrattPratt Sound El Cheepo Elizabeth Lockette Fastsigns FirestoneBridgestone First Security Bank Flat Rabbit Gallery Four Seasons Biltmore Santa Barbara Gastronomy, Inc. Gazebo Glitretind Gore-Tex Heather Hopkins Heidi Gatch Holly Duncan HotRod&Yox Huntsman Chemical Corp. Identity Properties IHC Therapy Management IHC Rehabilitation Services Images of Nature Industrial Supply J.R. Miller Enterprises Jan's Jeremy Dold Co. Jeri Burbank Jerry Gilomen Jess Reid Real Estate JoanPeets Joe Jafarian Joe and Rosemary Regalbuto Joel and Tami Roman Jupiter Property Katie Segal Kalin Sports-Aspen Kennecott Kevin Gallagher Kinko's KTVX Laurel Allen LDS Church, PC 2nd Ward Lee Sedgewick Lisa Mclnerney Log Cabin on the Hill Lauren Carlson Management Marker Marriott Hotels Mick Yeatle Mileti's Moose Canyon Video Morning Ray Bakery Mountain Fuel Mrs. Field's Cookies Murphy Brown Nan Chalat Nate Wade Subaru Nino's Oceans Olympia Park Hotel Pamela Hainsworth Panasonic Park City Board of Realtors Park City Ski Area Park Record Newspaper Regent Beverly Wilshire Big O Tires Peery Hotel Peter Anthony Studio Pop Jenks Pre Ski Progressive Sales & Marketing Prospector Athletic Club Prudential Coleman Questar Quicksilver R.C.Willey Richard Pack Rick and Mary Ann Smail Roffe Rossignol Salomon Serengeti Eyewear Shannon Goodpasture Shawn Stinson Sidney and Mimi Green Silver King Bank Silver Lake Lodge SLC Magazine Spartan Jeep Eagle Special Request Sport Vision Stein Eriksen Lodge Stuart Erwin Sundance Tara McCullough The Moorings The Stew Pot at Deer Valley The Yarrow Resort Hotel The Homestead The Grubsteak Travel Zone U-Save Auto Rental US West Cellular Utah Opera . Utah Jazz Utah Homes Dlustrated Vie Retreat Wardley Better Homes&Gardens Warner Brothers Wasatch Brew Pub Warren Carlson Western Rehabilitation Institute Westgate San Diego White Pine Touring William Morris Agency Zion's National Bank PARK CITY HANDICAPPED SPORTS ASSOCIATION " ' ; . ' BY TOM CLYDE The Blizzard of '93 It's the little things that affect life in the end. Simple decisions or whims can pack big consequences. Last weekend, it was a decision about lunch that tripped me up. I was skiing in Jupiter Bowl, and had a sudden hankering for a ham sandwich. The people I was with all wanted to take one more run, but I was ready for lunch, and started down. I was halfway up the Thaynes Chair when the world turned about 90 degrees up on end. One second, the snow was coming straight down, and the next minute it was coming horizontally from the right The chair was swinging then bouncing like it does with a sudden stop. That stomach twist that happens when the chair moves up and down is even more surprising when the rest of the world has vanished from view in a total white-out. white-out. The Blizzard of '93 had hit It was one for the record books. The faint of heart headed for home. Based on a lifetime of skiing here, I knew (I thought I knew) that it couldn't last for more than a few minutes at that velocity. I answered the siren call of a ham sandwich and fries. Getting to the Snow Hut in a blizzard so hard that I couldn't clearly see the tips of my own skis was an adventure. There weren't many people on the hill, so there were no collisions (at least I think that was a tree I smacked into). Lunch and a chance to dry out, let the weather break, and then finish the day on the slopes; it was such a simple plan. This was no ordinary snow storm. The windows of the Snow Hut were bulging in and out by a full inch. The building itself kind of shuddered. As each new group came in, shaking snow out of their sleeves, pant legs, and pockets, it was obvious that nothing was letting up at all. It may have been getting worse. I decided to hit the road and call it a day. But the lift was closed. It took a while to figure that out because from the Snow Hut deck, I couldn't even see the lift. Trapped, I went back inside to wait it out with the rest of the crowd. Beer sales took a sharp up-turn as the crowd tried to gain position. Shaquille O'Neal would have had a hard time holding a spot on the floor. Without referees, there were elbows being thrown here and there, and several very personal fouls were observed. Anytime the power of nature is that apparent, there is a sense of fear, or at least anxiety. Our vulnerability becomes pretty apparent. The storm was not letting up, and visibility was so bad that skiing out seemed impossible. The group in the comer by me was expressing concern about avalanche. A local contractor was reminiscing about various structural problems with the building when it was over-loaded. Somebody else was afraid of missing the NBA Legends game at the Delta Center. Another couple was afraid they would have to try to rearrange their flight schedule on Morris Air. If that wasn't frightening enough, 1 was thinking about the prospect of spending the night in the Snow Hut with 500 of my closest friends who had been loading up on chili and beer for several hours. If we didn't get out before it started getting dark, the mood would turn , incredibly ugly. It was still.a raging storm. For the first time, I believed the story about a distant cousin on my Dad's side who disappeared in a blizzard on his way back from the outhouse. He was never found again, but they did locate the Sears catalog in the spring. Three little girls who had been sitting across from me at lunch had frostbite on their cheeks. Resort manager Phil Jones showed up to try to calm the situation. He was matter of fact and reassuring. He inspired confidence and cooperation. Then something happened that was far more frightening than avalanche, asphyxiation, and the price of ski resort hot dogs combined. He said one word and almost started a stampede: "Refund." The crowd nearly rushed the table Phil was standing on like fans at a rock conceit I dried out my goggles (not that it mattered, there was nothing to see) and went back outside to wait in the storm where it was safer. Being trampled in a stampede of people who were going to get their money back on a ski pass because the weather turned rotten is a lot worse than vanishing in a blizzard. A few minutes later, Phil Jones came outside. I couldn't help but notice that he was not wearing a hat I've never seen him wearing a hat, no matter how bad the weather is. He says it's bad for business; gives people the fool notion that it's cold outside. So everybody waited it out. The ski patrol did their stuff, preparing for the emergency evacuation down Thaynes Canyon to the golf course. I don't know how they could "sweep" the mountain under those conditions, but while the rest of us were in the relative comfort of the Snow Hut, the ski patrol was out there on the hill checking to make sure nobody was stuck head first in a drift. Several people were evacuated from chair lifts with ropes. They earn their passes several times a year, but Saturday, the ski patrol, instructors, and lift crew members who quickly organized to deal with the situation earned the respect of everybody on the mountain. The wind died down to a mere gale, and they made the decision to take us all up the King Con lift, then down Gotcha Cut-off to the Resort Center. One member of the lift crew was standing on top of a tower, with the wind screaming around him, holding the automatic shut off switch so the lift would keep moving. That guy deserves a medal, and a trip to Barbados. Anyway, if I had done the sensible thing when the world turned sideways, and found my way down to the parking lot, I would have missed a gristly ham sandwich and most of the Blizzard of '93. 1 owe it all to a ham sandwich. And I couldn't help but remember Mama Cass Elliott, the hefty singer with the Mamas and the Papas (which puts me safely beyond the snowboard generation). According to popular rumor, if not fact, it was a ham sandwich that did her in. The story goes that she choked on a ham and swiss in a New York deli; died right on the spot. Things can always be worse. But I think I might try tuna next time. . ; u. Jf:... Sttrnlke si Wenmi BY TERI OKU will return next week roo c 4 |