The Town Races/read on KPCW an NPR affiliate in November of 2011. www.kpcw.org Tales from the Wasatch Back
Life in Park City in the 1970's was, as you might imagine, a very different experience from the Park City of today and there are several things that come to mind when I think back on that period of my life here. So, at the risk of sounding like one of those soggy, old timers that talk about the past as if it were the proverbial golden age, I have to say the 70's were truly a time of exploration, excitement and discovery in Park City, not only in the visions of what we as a town would soon become but in how we as a flock spent our free time. One of my personal, all-time favorite pasttimes during the 70's, 80's and early 90's was the town ski races. Every Thursday during the winter season the gates were set in dual format for anyone, yes, anyone who wanted to put their ski racing skills to the test in the bamboo jungle on the Clementime ski run at the Park City Resort. From the expert, ex-racer to the beginner/intermediate first time gate runner the competition in these weekly races was so fierce and passionate that you'd have thought these were the qualifiers for the Olympic Games. You might say I'm embellishing the truth here, but I'm not. For the 300+ racers that showed up each week this was the Olympics and any tool, waxing technique, headband, goggle, ski gadget or special fabric that was available was employed by every person no matter what catagory they were racing in. If you had access to a FIS sanctioned GS suit, you wore it. If you mysteriously obtained a Swedish National Team padded sweater from an ex- boyfriend, it was in your kitty. The grunts, growls and snorts, the subtle moves and gestures to obtain a competitive edge were Oscar material. And as heels kicked into the air and chests hurled forward out of the dual starting gates the performances were nothing but briliant. Every Ex-Pro/US Ski Team/College champion to the "C" division beginner used every advantage they could concieve. There was no distinction... other than the technique in the gates and the times on the results board.
As you might guess, the town races always ended with a roaring, packed party at one of the local watering holes. And if you were one of the racers who obtained a coveted beer mug trophy, your cup was sure to be filled with a frothy beverage, for free, all night. (at least mine was!) As the awards for each catagory were given out, everyone was cheered with equal enthusiasm and heart because we all knew how tough the competition was no matter the ability level.
There were few who could outwit the experience and talent of our seasoned town racers. Not even the fresh-off-the-circuit pro or world cup racer had an easy go on the dog-leg of Clementine. And we were damned proud of that. Some of my favorite memories are times when locals like Stein Erickson would make a guest appearance wearing his signature one-piece, brightly colored Bogner suit, no hat and sunglasses. Like a Nordic rock star that man would fly out of the starting gate and slither through the gates like a silk ribbon pulled through your fingers. It was simply stunning, especially when they announced his time. He was usually in the top five, overall. Then there was the local home boy, Louie Leatham who would show up in his tattered jeans, a denim jacket and skis he had borrowed from someone that morning. His jokes and cuts would have everyone in stitches before he jumped out of the gate, finishing with a top time.
I,was dubbed a "ringer" for a long time because I was a native Parkite and former pro ski racer. I have a handful of those shiny mugs in my collection and every time I look at one I remember how hard I worked to get it. I vividly remember the last town race I participated in. I was in the lead for the season and a few months pregnant with my twin sons. Now, I know what you're thinking but I was not about to let my "condition" stop me from taking the overall title. I was skiing pretty well and I had a feeling that this would probably be my last town race and so I gave it my all. And, It worked out as I had hoped!
The comraderie and freindships I made during those days are what I hope every person living in Park City could experience. And if the town races ever make a comback...I may just have to go and find that GS suit!