By Shawna Bethell – Photos by Cris Furman –
Amid the cheering crowd, ringing cowbells and whinny of horses, I hear the guy next to me joyfully exclaim, “This guy’s good enough to ski with one hand and roll a cigarette with the other.” And right then, the skier in question flies by, low and lean, before he hits the ramp for a jump, catches air, lands clean and slices on down the course. He crosses the finish and the already riotous crowd gets even louder as he drops his rope and throws his hands in the air. He’s the local favorite, and by now, everyone along the course knows it.
It wasn’t the typical kind of comment you expect to hear at a ski race, but skijoring isn’t a typical kind of race, Notorious Blair Street isn’t a typical kind of course and Silverton isn’t your typical kind of town.
Sitting at 9,318 feet in a tiny valley beneath majestic Colorado mountain peaks, this historic mining town is the quintessential setting for a skijoring event. Hitching posts stand in front of authentically renovated hotels and restaurants that used to be gambling halls and bordellos, while Silverton Mountain — boasting the perfect extreme ski experience — sets the standard for the quality of skiers to be found up here. It is the best of the old and new, perfect for hosting this wild culture clash of cowboys and skiers in a sport challenging for both.
For anyone unfamiliar with skijoring, it began in Scandinavia as a form of transportation when skiers roped up behind reindeer. Through the years it became a sport with skiers racing behind dogs, mules and, in the western United States, horses. The course runs straight, but berms of snow are piled up to form ski ramps along each side.
A horse and rider take the center course at a full run while a skier holding a rope weaves back and forth across the course through a series of gates and over the ramps. And just to make the race that much more challenging, both skier and rider must spear a number of bright orange rings situated along the course.
The run is timed and penalties are given for missed gates, ramps or rings. Winners place as individuals and as a three-member team: skier, rider and horse.
“The horses are the most important part,” says Jason Russell, skier and overall winner of the 2013 race. “If you don’t have a fast horse, there’s not much you can do.” And while everyone agrees that the level of teamwork, respect and competitive coexistence from these supposedly opposite cultures is at its utmost here, everyone gives kudos to the four-legged team member first.
“It’s the horses that bring people together,” says Ann Rapp, a horsewoman from Durango. “They are a great (center) of conversation.” And she is right.
Look around the historic and somewhat surreal setting and you’ll see crowds lining the street dressed warmly for winter comfort. You’ll also see skiers wearing red bandanas and cowboys and cowgirls wearing helmets. You’ll see cowboys in full dusters and boots and kids with brightly colored knitted caps. And what you notice is they are all mesmerized by the powerful animals around which the sport centers.
These horses trot and sometimes run the course warming up, snorting hot breath in the frigid air. They are ready to race and their energy brings an extra level of excitement to the crowd.
“They love it,” says Jeff Dahl, also from Durango, whose horse Red Lodge is a perennial winner and named for Red Lodge, Montana, where the West’s largest race is held. “They were born to race and they are treated like kings. And they know what their job is come race day.”
“But one of the things I like best about racing in Silverton,” says Rapp, “is that after a run you can take the horses down the quiet alleys of town to calm them. Just you and your horse stepping through the snow.”
Tim McCarthy of Aztec, New Mexico, has a differing view of why he races the Silverton event, which is celebrating its fifth year. Sitting atop Swagger — who earns every bit of his name — in one of those quiet, snow-filled alleys, he says, “What I like best is that the town closes down for us and everyone gets involved in the race. You can walk down the streets here and people look you in the eye and smile.”
And while the community doesn’t necessarily shut down for skijoring weekend, which is always set for Presidents’ Day weekend, a large part of the population gets involved. Volunteers and city employees build the course from the abundance of white stuff the high mountains accumulate. Others are involved in registration and advertising as well as being flaggers or line judges at the actual event.
“I do a lot of praying this time of year,” quips Pete Maisel, one of the many 
organizers of the Silverton event. “You pray for snow so the event can take place. Then you pray for sun because those horse people have to drive horses and trailers over those passes.”
The passes he refers to are Red Mountain to the north and Molas and Coal Bank to the south. In good weather there are travelers who refuse to drive that avalanche-ridden highway into town. In bad weather, and pulling a horse trailer, it takes an extra bit of nerve. But they do it because they love the sport, plus the winner’s purse isn’t a bad incentive. Silverton’s purse is growing with each passing year and so is the event’s continued popularity. “Notorious Blair Street, drinking, gambling, miners and cowboys,” Dahl says stretching his arms wide to include the mountains, the people, the horses and the town. “Where else could we race that is more perfect than this?”
Click here and here to see skijoring events in action.
Shawna Bethell is a writer from Silverton who enjoys the annual skijoring weekend as a spectator.