LOCALadk Magazine

LOCALadk 26 Not every kid gets to grow up with a ski hill right in their own town, a place where eager skiers can ex- plore a new sport, comfortably fall over in the snow, and walk home happy at the end of the day. But not every kid lives in the Adirondacks. In Saranac Lake, Dewey Mountain is that place. Local kids start here. They grow up competing on the trails, and long-time friends of the mountain remain loyal skiers and even volunteers. It's a hub for community fun — all year long, in fact — and is even a training ground for local Olympians and Olympic hopefuls. Today, Dewey is well-known and ardently uti- lized by the community for its excellent network of cross-country ski trails, but in the early days, Dewey was home to all kinds of skiing. Locals started skiing at Dewey in the 1920s. Back then, skiing down the mountain alpine-style required skinning or hiking to the top. The Saranac Lake Ski Club held outings on the mountain, which eventually included a ski jump on adjacent Blood Hill. The jump offered great views of downtown, and skiers enjoyed an early version of what we know today as Nordic combined. Dewey is now one of the best-loved places in the area to cross-country ski and snowshoe. A visit on any winter day will reveal skiers and snowshoers of all ages, from toddlers on tiny skis to seniors, proving age is just a number. Looking at the trail signs, one notices a few unusual names. For me, the one that stands out is Natski, a nod to the late and great Natalie Bombard Leduc. The first time I saw Natalie she was late for an event at Historic Saranac Lake (HSL), an evening about the late author Martha Reben, whose book "The Healing Woods" is a classic of Adirondack literature. Oblivious to being late, Natalie walked in, a broad smile on her petite face, delighted to see familiar faces and to have the chance to talk about Martha, whom she had known well. That smile is emblazoned in my memory. I recall being amused by the impression Nat made on me: that time didn't matter, and that, gosh, wasn't it nice to all be together? It felt as though she had stopped in for a casual chat. As it turns out, that was classic Nat. All year long, you could stop anywhere in Saranac Lake, mention just her first name, and people knew who you were talking about ― even where she might be. They could tell you they'd just seen her at the Town Hall or at the print shop making copies of ski articles to send out far and wide. You'd spot her car around town, a red sedan with a distinctive hood orna- ment: a downhill skier. Natalie had been a state cham- pion skier, and skiing was the breath of life to her. Soon after that memorable event at HSL, our friend- ship began, and as it grew, so, too, did my knowledge of local history, which for Natalie included a lot of skiing. I don't ski. I enjoyed cross-country skiing for a time when I was young, but I've never been on downhill slopes. I was, and still am, wholly unprepared to ap- preciate all that skiing meant to Natalie, but I could appreciate her. "...the impression that Nat made on me: that time didn't matter, and that, gosh, wasn't it nice to all be together?" The Ski Queen By Aurora Pfaff Photos provided

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