The History of Schweitzer Mountain
North Idaho is a place of
intense beauty, its allure touching the soul of all who
pass through, many to return months, years, or even
decades later to make this little corner of America
their home. It is a land for all seasons—the cries of
wild geese echoing across the valleys with the first
cool days of autumn, the mountainsides ablaze with
color, and a golden aura falling upon the land,
reminiscent of life in a painting by Van Gogh. Then comes
the still white wonderland of winter—a scent of wood
smoke upon the air, and the little Victorian town of
Sandpoint sparkling with lights like some Norman
Rockwell vision of times past. As for the glorious
reawakening of life each spring; that is a masterpiece
of creation that only Mother Nature herself could paint.
And, with the first hot days of summer, the lake and
waterways beckon us forth to revel in this vast and
pristine sun-soaked playground that is our home. But,
whatever the season—summer, winter, spring, or fall—the
very best place to appreciate the full extent of our
region’s spectacular beauty lies just a few minutes
drive up from Sandpoint to Schweitzer Mountain Resort,
where one can view the postcard perfect panorama of Lake
Pend Oreille spread out before us like some vast,
shimmering turquoise jewel. But, this is just the
beginning—a preview of things to come. The real magic
awaits us higher up the mountain.
But, before we explore further, we should take a little
journey back in time. For, while the exhilarating
experience of hiking, biking, boarding, or skiing upon
the groomed slopes of Mt. Schweitzer is something we
locals now take for granted, the story behind the
resort’s founding is a tribute to the unwavering
dedication of local winter sports visionaries… and the
story of how Mt. Schweitzer got its name, a strange and
fascinating little piece of local history.
THE ORIGINS OF SKIING IN NORTH IDAHO
From the earliest beginnings of our region’s history,
North Idaho
has been home to an adventurous few willing to trudge up
snow-covered mountainsides, tie hand-shaped wooden slats
to their feet, and slide back down with as much a
measure of grace as gravity and their crude equipment
would allow. Fortunately, over time, both equipment and
technique evolved. But, what never changed was these
local ski enthusiasts’ fanatical devotion to the sport,
and burning desire for their own hometown ski hill—a
dream finally realized in the mid-fifties, when a group
of volunteers went to work clearing a wooded hillside
two miles west of Sandpoint, rigged up a rope tow
powered by the wheel rim of a jacked up car, and Pine
Hill, the area’s first groomed ski slope, was born.
Unfortunately, skiing conditions at Pine Hill were less
than perfect. Even though the crude rope tow was soon
replaced by a permanent two-chair lift powered by an old
Dodge engine, the hill was not high enough in altitude
to guarantee a season-long coating of snow, and a
warmed-up car and thermos remained the only amenities
skiers could expect following a run down the slope. And
so it was that the locals continued to eye the
snow-covered mountains of the region, and dream of
someday having a real world-class ski resort of their
own. Then, as the fifties became the sixties, two
Spokane men, Dr. R.L. Fowler and Jerry Groesbeck,
driving through our area on their way home from a ski
vacation, stopped alongside the highway to stretch their
legs. And, while staring up at the snow-covered peaks,
as ski buffs are wont to do, their eyes fell upon a
large natural bowl nestled high in the mountains above.
It struck them then like a bolt of lightning. What they
were looking at was untracked, natural perfection—just
waiting for the hand of man to groom.
© Bonner County Historical Society Collection
A DREAM IS BORN
From that moment on, the idea of bringing a ski resort
to North Idaho became an all-consuming obsession for the
two. They pooled their resources to buy the acreage
encompassing the bowl, packed in equipment and
provisions to establish a base camp at the foot of the
basin, and began exploring the slopes to map out future
runs.
Fowler went to work cornering every ski enthusiast he
could find to gain support for the project, while
Groesbeck traveled from ski resort to ski resort, asking
questions, and picking up all the information he could
garner on operations and equipment.
Bit by bit their dream evolved into reality. By 1961,
work had begun on the ski runs and road up the mountain.
Construction of the tubular-steel towers for the
mile-long double chair lift began. Electric lines were
brought up the mountainside to power the lift’s 150
horsepower electric motor, resort lights, and the
heating cable that would melt the snow off of the lodge
roof. A diesel motor was put into place for emergency
backup. And, Canadian ski enthusiast Sam Wormington was
hired as manager.
By late fall of 1963, twelve hundred acres of the basin
were groomed and ready with three 2,000’ runs from
timberline to the lodge, miles of trails, and parking
for 500 cars. The Sandpoint News Bulletin devoted their
entire weekly issue to the resort’s upcoming
Thanksgiving Day grand opening. Renowned international
ski racer Tammy Dix was set to christen the slopes with
the first downhill run of the day. And, Idaho Governor
Robert Smylie sent out invitations to dignitaries around
the world, including two notables who shared the
resort’s name, Pierre-Paul Schweitzer, then Chairman of
the World Monetary Fund, and Dr. Albert Schweitzer, who
had won the Nobel Prize for his humanitarian endeavors
in Africa.
A fitting gesture it would seem. For, the name
Schweitzer does indeed evoke visions of grandeur and
nobility. But, the truth of the matter is that the
naming of Mt. Schweitzer had nothing to do with
nobility, and is instead a bizarre little story that has
woven itself into the fabric of Sandpoint’s colorful
history, becoming a part of what makes this region the
fascinating and wonderful place it is today.
A LOOK BACK IN TIME AS THE FARMINS
ARRIVE IN SANDPOINT
It was in 1892 that 35-year-old Ella Mae Farmin and her
husband L.D. first arrived in Sandpoint to work as
station agents and telegraph operators for the Great
Northern Railroad.
At that time, the little cluster of homes and business
on the lake’s shoreline was known as Pend Oreille, and
consisted of around 100 permanent residents, 23 saloons,
2 stores, 2 hotels, 1 restaurant, and several “houses of
ill repute.” And, like many of the other outposts on the
fringes of civilization, liquor flowed freely, and with
the fall of night, the sound of laughter, curses, and
gunfire filled the air. It was not unusual for a
stranger to be seen entering a saloon, never to be seen
again, presumably murdered, robbed, and body tossed into
an empty boxcar or the deep waters of Lake Pend Oreille.
One northward-bound settler and his wife wrote of holing
up in their hotel room, where they spent the night
praying for God to spare them long enough to resume
their rail journey the next morn, so terrifying was the
town’s wildness to them.
But, though the nearest magistrate was thirty miles
south in the town of Rathdrum, justice reigned here both
swift and efficient—vigilante style. And, tales are told
of as many as ten men at once left hanging at what is
now the south end of the Long Bridge—a dire warning to
all newcomers of the consequences of crime—the Friday
night event of their demise a well attended though
macabre source of local entertainment. But, the wild
goings on of this little frontier way station were in no
way a deterrent to Ella Mae and L.D., who had previously
manned the forward outposts of a number of railroads
during these heady days of transcontinental expansion,
and as Ella Mae put it, “Managed to keep the telegraph
lines open while surviving Indian uprisings, blizzards,
and threat of murder.”
Besides, the two pioneers had already fallen so in love
with the region that they intended to spend the rest of
their lives here, eventually becoming the founders of
today’s Sandpoint.
AN ENCOUNTER WITH A STRANGE HERMIT
It
was on a summer morning in 1893, while riding her
well-mannered little filly, Nelly, to work, that Ella Mae first encountered a strange
individual, dressed in some sort of well-worn military
uniform, standing trailside at strict attention, musket
at his side, as she passed. This went on for a few days,
until one morning, he instead stepped out onto the
trail, and taking Nelly by the reigns, led the pony
about a half a mile along the path, before letting go
and disappearing back into the woods.
When she told her husband and son Earl about this
strange occurrence, young Earl said that it sounded a
lot like a “friendly old hermit named Schweitzer” who
lived alone in a small cabin near where he and his
friend Harry Nesbit liked to fish. This took the edge
off of Ella Mae’s concern, but she took to running Nelly
through that section of woods anyway.
Then, not long thereafter, the man showed up at the
railroad station during Ella Mae’s shift. Speaking in a
thick Swiss accent, he informed her that he had come to
seek her advice regarding his intention to kill a local
settler, and take the settler’s wife as his own. Ella
Mae made eloquent argument intended to dissuade the man
from this plan, and after he had left, sent a warning to
the settler that he was the target of a murder plot.
The next morning, Schweitzer came back to the station to
tell Ella Mae that he had decided to take her advice and
not follow through on his plan, and that because Ella
Mae was both younger and prettier than his other
intended bride, it was his intention to carry her off
instead.
Unarmed and alone at the little station, and not a soul
within earshot, Ella Mae decided to put on a front of
bravado.
Standing up, she began loudly berating the man.
“Schweitzer, you know I have a husband of my own, and am
a respectable woman, and you cannot talk to me as you
are doing!” she exclaimed. “Let me tell you my husband
and the railroad company will fix you if you carry me
off.” He stood there silently for what seemed an
eternity. Then, tipping his hat to her, he politely
answered. “Well, for the present, we will drop the
matter.”
From that day forward Ella Mae kept a six-gun alongside
her bible in the drawer next to the telegraph machine,
and L.D. immediately contacted the nearest railway agent
at the Spokane office who, accompanied by the County
Sheriff and a doctor from Rathdrum, arrived the
following day to look into the affair. Upon entering the
recluse’s cabin, located near where Bronx Road now
crosses Schweitzer Creek, they found the hides of
numerous cats nailed to the walls, and a pot full of
cats boiling on the stove for the man’s supper, thereby
solving the mystery of the recent disappearances of
numerous of the town’s pets. Schweitzer was taken into
custody, remanded to the “county farm” for observation,
and later committed to an “insane asylum” where, as Ella
Mae put it, “He lived out the rest of his life a
dangerous and raving lunatic.”And, to this day, Earl and
Harry’s favorite fishing spot has been known as
Schweitzer Creek, and the mountain above, Schweitzer
Mountain.
SCHWEITZER MOUNTAIN RESORT TODAY
Today the mountain that rises so majestically above the
site of old man Schweitzer’s cabin has become home to a
world class ski resort—the largest and most highly rated
in the inland Northwest.
This year, the skiing and snowboarding area was expanded
to 2,900 acres, with the new Little Blue Ridge run
offering an exhilarating 1.7 miles of continuous
downhill skiing. There are now 9 different lifts taking
skiers to the top, including: One high-speed six-pack
named Stella; One high-speed quad; Four double
chairlifts; 1 handle tow; 1 new T-Bar, and a new Magic
Carpet® that will gently whisk beginners up to a gradual
learning slope, without ever having to take their feet
off the ground. There is no shortage of skiing variety
either, with 67 trails, open bowl skiing, and 32
kilometers of cross country ski trails maintained daily.
Neither is Schweitzer Basin a winter-only resort. With
miles of hiking and mountain biking trails, huckleberry
picking, and scenic chairlift rides, as well as a
variety of concerts and other events, not to mention
superb cuisine ranging from gourmet pizza to world-class
dining, the resort has become a year-round destination
for locals and visitors alike. And, no matter what the
season, the view from the very top is nothing short of
spectacular. Once the realm of Hudson Bay Company “web
men” who snow-shoed up the mountain’s steep slopes to
trap marten for their luxuriously soft and thick winter
coats, the exhilarating experience of standing at “the
top of the world” is now easily accessible to all,
thanks to a modern high-speed chairlift.
From this vantage point, one can enjoy a panoramic 360
degree vista that stretches into three states and
Canada, and includes thousands of square miles of
verdant green forest, three mountain ranges, and as
previously mentioned, the vast and shimmering turquoise
expanse of Lake Pend Oreille laid out before you in all
of its magnificence—
a Kodak moment not to be missed.
My thanks to the Bonner County
Historical Society for providing the
information from which this article
was gleaned. |
