My favorite run at Big Sky just happens to be my mother’s name, Lizette. It is the kind of run you find out about from a local or a regular who knows where to find the best powder stashes. Or, you discover it by accident, as I did. Either way, it’s the kind of run that quickly becomes your top choice among a mountain of choices.
Lizette is a delicious glade, with myriad gentle bumps polka dotting wide-spaced evergreens and aspens. It’s tucked in between two of the perfect turn wide groomers on the Southern Comfort side of the mountain, thankfully missed or ignored by those zooming past the small sign turn-off. Often, I’ve been alone for the entire run, stopping not to catch my breath but to inhale the solitude.
Every time I ski Lizette, I know she is watching over me, making sure I have a great time. She even watches over folks I’ve introduced to the trail, such as Tom Alexander, a fellow skier from the 70+ Ski Club. He had never skied bumps or a glade before. I convinced him he could handle these powder puffs, promising that my mother would watch over him, too.
She did, of course. He did fine, and bragged about the experience over dinner that evening.
I learned to love mountains from the woman who grew up in a small town in Bavaria long before high-speed four-, six- and even eight-seater lifts, computers, digital remotes, live streaming, men walking on the moon or cars with automatic transmissions and lane departure monitoring.
She was sent to America alone in her early 20s just after WWI, to work and send money home to support her family struggling in an economic crisis not of their doing – like millions of immigrants before her and since. I cannot imagine her fear of heading to a land where she did not speak the language and knew nobody except the name on the piece of paper of a woman from her hometown who promised her a job when she got to NYC.
I grew up with stories of her childhood hikes in the nearby Alpine mountains, walking to the local tavern to fill her Poppa’s beer stein for dinner before the days of refrigeration at home, and bedtime readings of Heidi, who also loved the mountains. Okay – they were the Swiss Alps, not the Bavarian Alps, but why quibble.
Even though she never skied, she would get that wistful faraway look when somebody is calling up a memory whenever I described the crisp, clear air and spectacular picture postcard view from the top of some mountain I had skied. And she shook her head laughing in pleasure whenever my two then-young children told her about their yard sales and lost mittens at the mountains where they learned to ski.
My mother Lizette passed away in 2005 at the impressive age of 103. It was before I had discovered “her” run, so I could not tell her about it, and enjoy her shaking her head and laughing in disbelief that there was a ski trail somewhere with her name on it.
But I do that now always on my first excursion of the day on the gladed trail named Lizette, looking up briefly and saying “Hi, Mom” – and on every lap that follows.
I always head to Southern Comfort in the morning, when it’s in full sun. It’s also when Big Sky’s powder hounds are headed elsewhere, so the lift line here tends to be short, and generally stays that way for the rest of the ski day. Also because this is an older, slower fixed grip triple, not one of the super-modern ones with heated seats and a bubble cover to further protect against the weather, like Big Sky’s Ramcharger, Swift Current and Powder Seeker lifts.
There’s also the opportunity to ski from Southern Comfort to the super-luxury Montage Resort hotel, where the lobby bathrooms have super-luxury heated seats. I cannot imagine what a woman who survived two World Wars and the Depression would think of those. My turn to shake my head and laugh.
There’s another bubble-chair here to a couple of groomers and one treacherous bump run, and no lift line any time I’ve ventured here.
Lizette is enough of a favorite that I did seven laps in a row one day last season – more or less, since I had stopped counting after four or five.
She was watching over me each time, and if you ski Lizette with me, she’ll watch over you, too.
Here is much more of Lizette with a lot more powder on it!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xnG-zXw1Ayg
Loved the story about your mother. Big Sky should be on every skiers bucket list. The lack of skiers and the variety of intermediate runs makes Big Sky unique.
What a heartwarming story Evelyn and a wonderful way to keep your mom’s story and spirit alive! See you in Utah the end of February!
Diana
Thank you for sharing your wonderful story!
We’ll be there for the 70+ ski trip end of Jan. We appreciate seeing a report like this to prepare. Hope the snow is as good as Jackson Hole. We love the bumps and powder.
Hi there I truly loved your story of your mother Livette what a remarkable lady and to have lived so long a life you loved her very much I can tell , I am wanting to ski Big Sky next winter at the same time as you have planned maybe we can meet up and ski the Livette too . I will be coming from Australia.
Thanks for your nice story about a wonderful glade run. I think “Pomp”, a similar run, must be in the same area down through the trees.
Pomp is adjacent. Since it starts hgher, it is longer than Lizette. Also, the trees are closer together and the bumps are bigger. I don’t go there alone.
Wow, your story about skiing down Lizette at Big Sky is touching. It sounds like a magical run surrounded by nature. I can feel the love for your mom and how skiing Lizette is a way of connecting with her memory.