As my Airbus touched down in the twin cities of Minneapolis-St Paul, a gleeful passenger shouted: 'Enjoy the cold - I'll be wearing shorts in five hours!' He was off to Florida. I was about to make a thousand mile seven-state journey down America's so-called 'Tornado Alley'. I would discover why the icy blasts which drive wind turbines and allow snow-kiters to hurtle across the seemingly endless prairies of North and South Dakota prompt the locals to refer to this part of the world as 'the Saudi Arabia of wind.' But I was not here to snow-kite. I was here to ski.
I am fascinated by what the Americans like to call 'ma and pa' ski hills. Having some time ago worked my way through the unlikely states of Wisconsin, Illinois, Tennessee, North Carolina, Kentucky, Virginia, West Virginia, Indiana and even Alabama, I was eager to ski the other lowland American states.
Having more recently managed to tick off a few more, like Michigan and Connecticut, I am now making a determined attempt to complete the task, and ski in every US state which has lift-assisted downhill skiing.
In March, aided, abetted and accompanied by Bernie Weichsel, the founder of Ski USA which, during the 1980s and 90s, did much to promote skiing in the Rockies and New England, I found myself ticking off five of the last few remaining states: Minnesota, North and South Dakota, Iowa, and Missouri.
Collectively the five 'resorts' we were about to ski (for at least two hours in each case, we'd agreed, before moving on to the next area) have about as much vertical (1500 feet) as a single small resort in New England like Bretton Woods in New Hampshire. If you skied down once at each, end to end, this would be the same as skiing less than half way down Vail Mountain in Colorado. But then, says Bernie, 'we don't have to worry about mountain passes - and there's little chance of driving over a cliff!'
The vertical drop at Powder Ridge (like all the other places we were due to visit) is around 300 feet. Although much of Minnesota's soil is ancient glacial sediment and moraine, I am assured that there no risks of crevasses at the top of the hill. There are nine runs, with 100% snowmaking. Skiing alternatives include ice fishing, ice skating and snowmobiling. 'Two inches of new light fluffy snow' were promised. 'Conditions are great right now, don't miss out on some wonderful March skiing and snowboarding.'
We reach Fargo, North Dakota - famous for the film of the same name - soon after the 49th anniversary of the death of Buddy Holly, killed in a plane crash on his way to the city with The Big Bopper and Ritchie Valens. Fargo is built on what must be one of the flattest places on earth. But a lonely 75-mile drive to the south-west through Ransom County brings us to the delightful little Sheyenne River Valley.
The village of Fort Ransom - and the nearby Bear's Den Mountain - provide a welcome contrast. The word mountain may be a touch flattering, but both village and ski hill are a delight. Entering the base lodge is like stepping back into the 1960s. Indeed, one suspects that little has changed here since then. Dale and Karen Anderson opened the place - it's hard to call it a 'resort' - in 1962 (the same year Vail opened) when the hemp rope used for the original tow lift wore out two days later. They seem like the quintessential 'ma and pa.' They had actually sent me lift tickets to explore their ski hill in 2003 when I was toying with a visit. Five years on, they scarcely blinked in honouring these self-same tickets. Their daughter teaches skiing here, and amidst the wonderfully homely 1960s bric-a-brac which gives the lodge a museum-like quality, is the most cunning of inventions. Dale Anderson has built automatic pressurised doors behind the raised bench where visitors have their skis adjusted. As soon as they are ready for the slopes, a quick flick of a switch enables the skiers to exit straight onto the snow. Here and there this snow covers Indian artefacts - bits of clay pipe and pottery - which are found regularly during the summer.
On to South Dakota. We are in Minnehaha County. (As Hiawatha's lover, Minnehaha provides the romantic element in Longfellow's 1855 epic poem The Song of Hiawatha.) Sioux Falls is our next destination. Strangely this city, built on the Big Sioux River, was recently declared the 93rd angriest American city out of 100 in a survey - yet one of the safest places to drive, and one of the least debt-ridden. Great Bear ski area is three miles east of the city, which owns the hill.
Some skiers wearing all-purpose camouflage suits (for hunting, shooting, skiing and fishing) hear about our trip and ask: 'You guys get to ski all over? Then why did you come to South Dakota?' Good question. But we're loving it.
As we arrive at Mount Crescent, Iowa, we can see the tyre tracks in the snow of a car that has driven up, described a near circle and driven straight out again. Our worst fears are realised. The ski area is closed today. But they still put out the welcome mat. And are happy for us to walk to the top of their 'mountain'. And if you believed the gag on the ski area's T-shirts, you'd think it was a mountain. They depict a map of America complete with the more famous Rocky Mountain and New England resorts. In the middle of the map, right in the middle of the flatlands of the mid-west, there are instructions to 'head east for 550 miles out of Denver - turn left in Crescent, Iowa - then two miles north.'
There's an old red snowcat stuck high on a tall pole at the entrance to the ski area. 'Why?' we ask Russell Lindeman, the owner - who has since sold the resort. 'I just didn't know what else to do with it' he says. We do our walk, and our pleasant ski down (just the once thank you) and head for Kansas City, which, to my surprise is actually more in Missouri than Kansas. There are two Kansas Cities, but by far the most important one (and the one with the big airport) is across the river in Missouri - our final state.
We drive to the pretty little ski area of Snow Creek.
'Kids come here in busloads' says the cheery general manager, David Grenier (also a senior partner in Peak Resorts, which operates several smaller ski areas in central and eastern USA). 'It's the world's greatest field trip.'
It's a beautiful sunny day. The skiing, though not extensive, is idyllic in the sunshine. Spring is on its way. And we are at the end of our mission in Tornado Alley. Just four states left to ski now - Arizona, Rhode Island, New Jersey and Ohio. But that's for next winter. You up for it, Bernie?
By Arnie Wilson
The above article is the opinion of the author and does not necessarily reflect the opinions of Wiski.com. For more information, please see the Terms of Use.