Whitefish ski patroller Kate Atha thrives on the mountain

The mountain is where Kate Atha feels at home.

In the winter months, Whitefish Mountain Resort’s sprawling 3,000 acre canvas is where she’ll be, doing anything from triggering avalanches to searching for a missing ski.

The veteran ski patroller, with 13 years under her belt and five of them on Whitefish Mountain, says there’s nothing else she’d rather be doing.

“I started skiing when I was three years old,” Atha said. “I remember anytime we had a snow day, my dad would take off work and take me skiing, so I was hooked.”

As soon as she reached the legal age to begin working at a resort she signed on, and three years later, at age 18, Atha got her first job in ski patrol. The West Virginia native worked at two different resorts before landing in Montana courtesy of a patrol exchange program, where ski hills swap employees for a short period of time in the interest of knowledge-sharing.

“I fell in love with this place and this crew,” Atha said.

She left her previous post at Deer Valley Resort in Park City, Utah, for Whitefish and hasn’t looked back. Her days on the mountain start in the mornings where Atha is assigned an area to prep for public use. That could mean anything from maintaining string lines and boundary markers to deploying explosives in avalanche terrain.

“We’re just looking for any instabilities in the snow and by deploying explosive charges ahead of time we’re able to create smaller, more controlled avalanches to stabilize the snowpack before we open to the public,” Atha explained. “It’s a serious charge — we’re not working with just little fire crackers. You have to open your mouth, turn your back [and] plug your ears to equalize the pressure from it.”

Once her daily inspections are complete, Atha launches into the rest of her duties, which can entail educating ski schools, responding to calls for lost or injured skiers or working with the patrol’s avalanche rescue dog, Jet.

One of Atha’s most memorable rescues took place a few years ago in Hell Roaring Basin — an advanced section of the mountain comprised largely of black and double-black diamond terrain.

“Someone jumped off a cliff and broke their leg, broke their femur actually, which is a very severe injury to get, especially in a remote area,” Atha recalled. “It was a difficult extraction. We had to cut trees out and then the slope coming out of there was pretty difficult. Then it started snowing and we couldn’t fly a helicopter so we had to bring the sled up the lift and at this point it’s dark and it’s pouring snow.”

With the aid of a groomer, Atha and her fellow patrollers were eventually able to bring the man to safety, despite waning daylight and snowy conditions.

For Atha, the greatest reward is receiving a genuine thank you from the folks she’s helped rescue. She said oftentimes skiers will stop in at the patrol house, located at the summit, to express their gratitude to the patroller who hauled them off the mountain the season before. And sometimes that thanks comes from a familiar face.

“It’s a locals mountain here. Unfortunately a lot of times you know the patient, it’s not someone on vacation that you’ll never see again,” she said. “It’s someone that’s your bartender, it’s someone that lives down the street.”

BUT ATHA said her job isn’t all about saving the day. Sometimes ski patrol boils down to the simple things: lending a hand to a tired skier, or helping someone fix a binding. Ski patrollers also spend a lot of time reuniting lost parties. But Atha has a few suggestions to reduce separations on the ski hill.

“We want folks to remember that cellphones don’t work everywhere on the mountain. On the backside of the mountain, you can’t make a phone call,” Atha said. “Have a plan with your group ahead of time, what you’re going to do, how you’re going to get a hold of help if something happens ... Make sure everyone knows a plan if you get separated and has a meeting place.”

The number for ski patrol dispatch is printed on every lift pass, Atha added, and suggested that skiers and boarders take note of which chair they’re on, which can help rescuers locate them more quickly in the event of an emergency.

“Just a little awareness goes a long way,” she said.

And skiers and borders shouldn’t be too surprised if the ski patroller that comes to their aid is a woman — Whitefish Mountain’s patrol team is 40 percent female, dispatchers included — well over the national average of 21 percent, as of the 2015/16 season.

“Not too long ago, there weren’t women on the patrol and I think it’s just as more and more women branch out into those fields — military and fire — that we’re seeing more of that in ski patrolling. It’s definitely not a boy’s club here,” she said. “A lot of what we do is technique. You don’t have to be a big burly guy to run a toboggan, you need to be a solid skier, work with the equipment and have good technique.”

The summertime patrol is a different story. Atha is the sole lady on an 11-man mountain biking crew that maintains the resort’s hiking and biking trails during warmer months. She holds a leadership role in the organization as the bike patrol supervisor and considers her position “the summertime answer to ski patrol” — and a means of staying on the mountain year-round.

“I’ve worn a lot of hats here: I’ve built chairlifts, I’ve painted doors, I’ve rebuilt terrain park rails. This year I started helping with the lodging department a little bit in the fall just to stay up here,” she said. “Everyone’s here because they want to be here. They didn’t just go here because it was easy.”

Reporter Mackenzie Reiss may be reached at 758-4433 or mreiss@dailyinterlake.com.