My patrol life began a long time ago. The first time I put on a Patrol jacket and fanny pack was in 1974 as a NSP Junior patroler at Sugarloaf Mtn in Maine. I lied and said I was 16 and my cousin, a pro hill captain sold me to the boss. I was just 14.
I’ve been banging around steep snowy places helping people out of jams and nasty spots for quite a while.
Deep snow, big dogs and my wife are important to me in reverse order. Being buried in dog holes is good stuff.
To me our union is very important. As an individual in the vast and generally wealthy ski industry I have always been one replaceable, relatively unimportant ant in an ever changing corporate world.
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