A Big Sky Ski Town Whether you're on the slopes or sipping cocoa in front of a roaring fire, Whitefish, Mont., provides a welcome winter weekend alternative. Seattle, January/February 2004 By Matt Villano My introduction to Whitefish, Mont., was much like the town itself; bold and succinct, endearingly without pretence. "Look out below!" screamed a 70-something woman as she careened on her skis down the slope toward me, thoroughly out of control. "I haven't skied in 50 years!" Fear set in rapidly, as I glanced up at what could have been the last grandma I'd ever see. Instead, miraculously, the woman regained enough control to follow the chute down the mountain toward the lodge, where we'd later laugh about the incident over cocoa in front of a roaring open fire. Local quickly informed me that this was an ordinary experience on the slopes at the centerpiece of this town of 5,032, where Big Mountain Resort (8 miles from downtown on Big Mountain Road, 800.858.3930; bigmtn.com) boasts the only 7,000-foot peak in this part of northwest Montana's Flathead Valley. Fresh off a $300 million expansion, the resort draws winter sport fans of all kinds, from teen-age snowboarders to senior snowshoers, independent ski bums to novice families of 10. I myself had arrived for a three-day weekend on a direct flight from Sea-Tac to Glacier Park International Airport, just up the road in nearby Kalispell. Including the time it took me to get through security, I was on the slopes four hours after I left my house - not bad when you consider the traffic to Stevens Pass and the North Cascades. Despite my near collision with the AARP, great powder and slim crowds made for an invigorating and exhilarating day on the slopes. These attributes - hard to find here in Washington - are central to the Whitefish charm. The city, an old railroad town from the 1850s, is Whistler Lite - all of the warmth with none of the yuppies. For skiers and snowboarders, there's a different slope for every day of the week. For the downhill challenged, or for novices like me, the sleepy little metropolis offers quaint shops, top-notch restaurants and a variety of other cold-weather options to keep smiles broad. One such alternate activity is dogsledding. Twenty miles north of Whitesifh on Highway 93, two miles north of a town called Olney, I came upon Dog Sled Adventures (8400 Highway 93, N; 406.881.2275), where, just past a sign that read, "Leash Your Children," owner Jeff Ulsamer leashed up 10 of his 90 Alaskan huskies and off we went. Poetically, the dogs followed an 11.5-mile course that roughly parallels a stream named Dog Creek. "I swear that's what's it's called," quipped Ulsamer as our sled zoomed through the Stillwater State Forest. "Pretty neat how the whole thing worked, if you ask me." Another great destination for those not fond of giving in to gravity is Glacier National Park (approximately 27 miles north of Whitefish; mps.gov/glac), where I rented skis from the Glacier Outdoor Center (on Highway 12, .5 mile west of the village of West Glacier; 800.235.6781) and spent the afternoon cross-country skiing up the famous Going-to-the-Sun Road, closed to motor-vehicle traffic all winter long. I skied atop four feet of powder, right through a fresh burn zone - the effects of last summer's forest fires that nearly charred the entire village of West Glacier. Even with a foreground of blackened trees and barren earth, the views of the Rockies made Mount Rainier seem dull. But Whitefish isn't only for those who like to sweat. Following my jaunt through Glacier, I managed to score a room at the 1920s-style Garden Wall Inn (504 Spokane Ave.; 888.530.1700; gardenwallinn.com) downtown, where proprietors Chris Schustrom and Thonda Fitzgerald set out sherry and hors d'oeuvres every night. Downtown, beer flows at The Great Northern Brewing Company (2 Central Ave.; 406.863.1000; greatnorthernbrewing.com) and a variety of local pubs, while the eating is great at the Tupelo Grille (17 Central Ave.; 406.862.6136). At the latter spot, chef/owner Patrick Carloss applied his unique Cajun flair to my blackened orange roughy with crawfish etouffee, taking my palate to New Orleans and back again before dessert. Soul food in the high country - who knew? Central Avenue is the town's main street for shopping and eating; stop by Toggery (122 Central Ave.; 406.862.2271), where you can pick up a cowboy hat. Bookworks (244 Spokane Ave.; 406.862.4980) is a great spot to stock up on reading material to devour in front of a fireplace, and Montana Coffee Traders (110 Central Ave.; 406.862.7667) sells better house-roasted coffee beans than most joints in Seattle. Back home, I was already unpacked and walking the dog when my neighbor returned from his weekend at crowded Stevens Pass. "Sounds far," he said when I told him where I'd been. I knew then that the secret of Whitefish was safe for at least another year.