The Chairlift: Benny Up energy
Chair 1 travels above one of my favorite runs that recently reopened after having been closed due to insufficient snowpack.
The Benny Up Route, the mountain's most direct uphill trail, is named for Ben Parsons, a local, accomplished endurance athlete and Whitefish firefighter/paramedic who was killed in an avalanche seven years ago while skiing in Glacier National Park.
Parsons’ spirit lives not only in the hearts of his family and friends, but in every person he ever crossed paths with in the outdoors. While we were never formally introduced, I ran across Parsons a handful of times. Typically, he was passing me, either on skis or on a bike.
I skin up the Big Mountain often. It is a good workout and I appreciate the repetitive motion and quiet time alone. Four out of five times, someone on the chairlift will holler down, “You're going the wrong way.” In my exercise-induced relaxed mind, I think, “We’re going the same direction, weirdo.”
Skinning is an exercise in patience, perseverance and discipline. For athletes like Parsons, it is a beautiful endeavor.
Parsons was instrumental in the growth of the popularity of uphill skiing, especially on the Big Mountain, and he worked to promote the Whitefish Whiteout race, an annual mountaineering race at Whitefish Mountain Resort. Parsons’ spirit permeates that race and makes it an event I look forward to, year after year.
I’ve participated in the race several times and stared in awe as the elite athletes, with ultra-light gear and highly-trained bodies, took off ahead of the rest of us. They seemed to be floating uphill and, in a matter of seconds, reached the top of the first pitch, a challenge that was about to take me nearly 10 minutes.
They fly, I lumber, and we were, technically, doing the same activity.
When someone passes me skinning uphill, I feel defeated. But when Parsons passed me a few times over the years, always with a smile and a nod, I felt instantly better about everything. Better about my time. Better about my abilities. Better about myself.
In the spring, I was biking the Going-to-the-Sun Road while it was free of motorists. A mile or so beyond the Loop, the steeper slope had just begun to affect my attitude. My head drooped, my breathing became reminiscent of a tired bulldog and I was questioning my choices, when Parsons rode by on my left.
He smiled, said hello, and was quickly out of sight. He was on an easy pedal that day.
One summer, I had just pedaled my mountain bike up the long but easy logging road on Desert Mountain. The downhill is a fun, steep, winding trail that is always good for a few squeals and woo-hoos.
I had just finished the thrilling part of the ride and was at the junction with the trail that leads out of the woods and back to the road. Parsons was there and he was “going the wrong way.” He was about to pedal up the tricky, steep, downhill section that had just blown my hair back, and he was smiling.
Parsons is an inspiration in the truest sense and we are all lucky to have his spirit with us as we do hard things in the outdoors, including skinning up his namesake trail, the Benny Up.
The Chairlift is a column written by Whitefish Pilot reporter Julie Engler. Engler collects and shares the comments and conversations heard on the lift (or around the mountain) with the hope that readers might have a laugh and enjoy the buoyant mood of a chairlift ride.