Measuring Risk: Learning how to explore the backcountry with the Patrol Fund

Towering snow-laden trees engulf me after hopping off the Flower Point chairlift and into out-of-bounds terrain.  

Eager to embark on my first journey through the backcountry, a tinge of nervousness lingers knowing that the land is unpatrolled. 

At Whitefish Mountain Resort, the backcountry is just a rope duck away. While its accessibility gives the illusion of safety, the slopes unlike the resort are not avalanche controlled.  

But my off-resort adventure was not unplanned or unprepared, it was a culmination of two days of classroom learning and on-the-field training through The Patrol Fund’s Level One Avalanche course. 

Before the local nonprofit began offering courses in 2009, there was no such avalanche education in Flathead County, according to Hannah Farrell, executive director and education coordinator for The Patrol Fund. 

“We saw a big need for the Flathead Valley community to be educated and aware of the hazards of avalanches,” she said.  

Roughly 75 people every season take the Level One and Level Two courses that are taught by trained professionals, many of whom also work as ski patrollers at the resort.  

“We’re intimately familiar with the snow and the terrain around Whitefish Resort and we are enthusiastic about sharing it with people, whether they’re newcomers or not,” Farrell said.  

Growing up skiing, I was perfectly happy bombing runs in the resort, but after enough time idolizing backcountry enthusiasts strapping on skins and going on beautiful adventures across untouched terrain, I knew it was time to experience that for myself. 

This same sentiment was shared among the rest of my class who were experienced skiers but, like me, new to the backcountry. But over three days in January, we learned how to avoid and navigate avalanche terrain by testing snowpack, reading forecasts and conducting rescue drills and equipment checks.   

On the final day, me and four of my course mates were putting our skills to the test by planning our own tour through the Whitefish Range, with the help of two instructors.  

At this point, I had gotten to know my crew well — one got the course as a Christmas present from his wife, another worked at the resort rental shop and one played saxophone in various bands. 

Our journey began in the Mt. Jackson Room of the Base Lodge. 

We read the daily avalanche forecast published by the Flathead Avalanche Center. The report forecasts the Whitefish, Flathead and Swan ranges as well as portions of Glacier National Park, totaling 1.2 million acres of public land. 

The forecast warned of slabs created by wind-drifted snow and suggested looking for sheltered terrain hidden from wind. Slabs are cohesive layers of snow that can break as one unit, creating an avalanche. Thirty-eight degrees is considered the prime slope angle for an avalanche to occur.  

OUR INSTRUCTOR giving a guiding hand on our trip was Burket Kniveton, a backcountry snowboard guide and licensed therapist with an interest in the human condition’s effect on decision making in avalanche terrain. Also along with us was Addie Elm, a freeride coach raised in Whitefish who shadowed Kniveton before leading her own course the following week.  

With their help, we scoped out a heavily treed slope with expectedly little wind off Ghoulies Point beyond the resort boundary that would bring us down some semi-steep terrain. Within the hour, we were gearing up to hit the slopes.  

To no surprise, it was a cloudy day, but fog had not descended on the resort, leaving the nearby Skook chutes above Canyon Creek visible from Flower Point, where our journey began.  

Before beginning our skin up the ridge to Ghoulies Point, we conducted a beacon check, which had been hammered into our brains the past two days. A beacon allows rescuers to find buried victims quickly, and the check is intended to make sure both the transmit and search features on the group’s beacons are working. 

Around half of people completely buried in avalanches die within 15 minutes, so making quick decisions is crucial to a rescue.  

Once sure each of our beacons worked, we strapped on skins and began the southern trek up along the ridge to Ghoulies Point. As we skinned along a well-trodden path in a single-file line, Kniveton would point out small signs of wind-drifted snow, which look like ripples across the snow surface.  

After some light touring, we were atop Ghoulies Point. Before we could rip down, we had to conduct a snowpack test. While the avalanche forecast gives a great overhead view of snow conditions, the test informs us on the snowpack on a specific slope. 

Using my collapsible shovel, I dig a hole roughly a meter deep and over a meter wide. Using two probes and a nylon cord, I carve out a column of snow. Hitting down with my hand atop the column, I watch for horizontal cracks, indicating a weak layer. Once one I see one, I try to push the snow atop the crack toward me to see if it slides as one. Luckily, the snow is not cohesive, showing minimal evidence of a slab.  

After the beacon check, communicating our plan and testing the snowpack, I remain cautious but confident that we can start shredding.   

I drop in, carving northeast down to Beaver Pond in knee-deep untouched powder. The hoots and hollers of my buddies echo as we weave through the tight trees. We reach the pond elated. 

We start another gradual ascent uphill on a saddle farther south toward the Kona area. I admire the beauty of being off trail, the bustle and noise of a ski resort completely absent. But given my group was split between snowboarders and skiers, there was no shortage of banter breaking the silence.  

We arrive at Kona, which is filled with spread out, towering trees among firm but deep powder. 

Once we emerge onto the drainage, Kniveton points out that we were in a terrain trap, which is a flat spot at the base of a slope that would amplify the consequence of getting caught in an avalanche.   

As we tour along a Forest Service road, Kniveton tells us to keep our head on a swivel, pointing to various avalanche debris fields. We ski on top of one that had slid over the road. The snow is hard as ice under my skis, and I wonder how difficult it’d be to escape if I was buried. 

Looking up, I see others carve down the slopes that tower on either side of us. Part of me feels helpless knowing I am at the whim of skiers above me, hoping they don’t trigger anything.   

OUT-OF-BOUNDS exploring has grown more popular over the decades, but the Covid pandemic, which skyrocketed the valley’s population, also spurred an influx of people in the backcountry.  

“You have the uncontrolled variable of avalanches and uncontrolled avalanche terrain, but you also have all the other humans,” Farrell said. “You don’t know their background, their education, if they’re even carrying avalanche rescue gear.” 

When it comes to avalanche terrain, nothing is black and white, and despite all the information technology and science has made readily available for recreationalists, it is still an educated guess.  

Lead Instructor Jamie Burkholder, who has been patrolling several mountains for 15 years, says the goal is to help minimize avalanche incidents that can be avoided by providing the tools to make logical choices.  

"Hopefully what we’re doing with the course is going to provide just enough for people to make good decisions and come home safely on time,” he said. 

Now patrolling at Whitefish, he helps conduct avalanche control on the mountains by using explosives or sometimes, although not ideal, going in on foot to trigger them.  

“There are days when you probably just shouldn’t be out there, but there’s always some place you could go where you’re never exposing yourself to these hazards. You just got to know how to find it,” he said.  

It’s a constant balance, I learned during the five hour and 4-mile adventure, between assessing the medley of factors affecting avalanches and the risk I am willing to take.  

Reporter Jack Underhill can be reached at 758-4407 and junderhill@dailyinterlake.com.

    Whitefish Mountain Resort ski patroller Addie Elm skis in the backcountry during the Patrol Fund's avalanche training seminar Jan. 11, 2025. (Matt Baldwin/Daily Inter Lake)
  

    Whitefish Mountain Resort ski patroller Addie Elm discusses safe backcountry travel during the Patrol Fund's avalanche training seminar Jan. 11, 2025. (Matt Baldwin/Daily Inter Lake)
  

    Daily Inter Lake reporter Jack Underhill skis in the backcountry near Whitefish Mountain Resort during the Patrol Fund's avalanche training seminar Jan. 11, 2025. (Matt Baldwin/Daily Inter Lake)
  

    Whitefish Mountain Resort ski patroller Addie Elm skis in the backcountry during the Patrol Fund's avalanche training seminar Jan. 11, 2025. (Matt Baldwin/Daily Inter Lake)
  

    Whitefish Mountain Resort ski patroller Addie Elm helps instruct a Patrol Fund avalanche training seminar Jan. 11, 2025. (Matt Baldwin/Daily Inter Lake)
  

    A beacon check is conducted before a group of skiers and snowboarders head into the backcountry near Whitefish Mountain Resort during the Patrol Fund's avalanche training seminar Jan. 11, 2025. (Matt Baldwin/Daily Inter Lake)
  

    A beacon check is conducted before a group of skiers and snowboarders head into the backcountry near Whitefish Mountain Resort during the Patrol Fund's avalanche training seminar Jan. 11, 2025. (Matt Baldwin/Daily Inter Lake)
  

    Whitefish Mountain Resort Ski Patroller Addie Elm and avalanche instructor Burket Kniveton conduct a snowpack test during an avalanche training seminar on Jan. 11, 2025. (Matt Baldwin/Daily Inter Lake)
  

    Whitefish Mountain Resort ski patroller Addie Elm digs a snowpack test pit during an avalanche training seminar Jan. 11, 2025. (Matt Baldwin/Daily Inter Lake)
  

    A snow saw is used to create a snowpack test pit during an avalanche training seminar at Whitefish Mountain Resort on Jan. 11, 2025. (Matt Baldwin/Daily Inter Lake)
  

    Avalanche instructor Burket Kniveton uses coffee to see weak layers in snowpack during an avalanche training seminar on Jan. 11 2025 (Matt Baldwin/Daily Inter Lake)
  

    Instructor Burket Kniveton inspects column of snow during an avalanche training seminar on Jan. 11, 2025. (Matt Baldwin/Daily Inter Lake)
  

    Whitefish Mountain Resort ski patroller Addie Elm and avalanche instructor Burket Kniveton explain how to conduct a snowpack test during a avalanche training seminar on Jan. 11, 2025. (Matt Baldwin/Daily Inter Lake)