Now 35 years old, Kirkwood evolves from Spartan past

In the unpredictable winter months that shroud this picturesque mountainous valley in seemingly a white layer of fresh paint, it can be a stressful drive to reach Kirkwood Mountain Resort and often times even more harrowing trying to depart.Logistical challenges have always been at the core of this resort, which is situated approximately 35 miles from South Lake Tahoe and annually gets bombarded with more than 600 inches of snow that tantalizingly coaxes skiers and boarders to make the somewhat risky journey to enjoy a glorious powder day on Kirkwood's challenging slopes.In the past, many day visits to Kirkwood became extended stays when severe storms piled up snow so fast and so high that roads quickly closed and stranded visitors wound up sleeping on the floor of the former aging lodge. But that is part of the Kirkwood allure; it's always been more of a no-frills place when compared to many of Tahoe's more stylish, conveniently located resorts.No need to remind the Reuter family about the rugged nature of Kirkwood, which celebrated its 35th birthday in early January. A family of six that descended on Kirkwood back in 1972 when the resort's progress was measured in baby steps, the Reuters were the closest things to pioneers one could find."Kirkwood was a small, remote, rustic place and there was nothing to do but ski or sit in our cabin and read," recalls Carolyn Reuter-Cooper, one of the four Reuter children. "I was only nine when we moved to Kirkwood. It was a hard lesson for a kid. You had to make your own fun."While his children creatively searched for fun and his dutiful wife Jeanne served as bus driver and school teacher to a small group of kids, Dick Reuter was literally carving out ski runs on the steep, rugged Kirkwood terrain. A chainsaw was invariably in his hand as Reuter cleared trees and brush to create the first four trails at Kirkwood, located on what is now the resort's backside."I always say my husband wasn't happy unless he had sawdust in his pockets," laughs Jeanne, who at age 74 is 11 years younger than her husband, who retired in the early 1990s. "Dick went through a lot of chainsaws. A lot of them are still under our house."There were many weeks when Dick Reuter worked sun up to sun down without a day off. An Army engineer during World War II who built air strips, working round the clock at Kirkwood was seemingly no big deal. That's because this is one tough man, a guy who wound up creating most of the resort's trails and even has one named in his honor Chair 11 at Kirkwood is called "The Reut.""If you look up the word mountain man in the dictionary the picture next to it is Dick Reuter," said Tim Cohee, who was Kirkwood's CEO and general manager for the previous 14 years before stepping down after last season. "He physically built Kirkwood."Of course, Reuter had help in those early years when Kirkwood was struggling to attract skiers to its remote location. One of those people was Dave Myers, who arrived at Kirkwood in 1973, one winter after the resort began running its lifts.On a break from college one winter, Myers journeyed from Indiana to Lake Tahoe for some skiing with buddies. He was enamored so much with the beauty and majesty of Tahoe that he decided to return and has been at Kirkwood for 34 of the past 35 years.Myers still recalls his first day on the job. With Reuter naturally in the lead, he and several other men breathlessly hiked through steep snow up the mountain and started cutting down trees and clearing a path for a ski run. It was the first in a long succession of work days for Myers, who has performed all kinds of duties over the years and is currently the vice president of mountain operations.He and his wife of 29 years live in Woodfords, an unincorporated community in Alpine County, near Markleeville. On a good day Myers can make the 24-mile drive to Kirkwood in half and hour or less, although one day he recalls shivering in his car for nearly eight hours before the road cleared and he could report for work."You need to have the right mindset to live and work at Kirkwood," Myers said. "It's in between two (mountain) passes, it snows a lot and it's not an easy place to live or work. It's always a challenge to retain employees."Yet the snow is typically fantastic, which is why Kirkwood has always enjoyed not only loyal workers but also loyal customers. Its epic snow storms transform the precipitous slopes into some of the best terrain that Tahoe resorts can offer. And even longtime employees like Myers rarely pass up the opportunity to make a few turns."I still get around pretty good and manage to ski just about every day," Myers said. "You've got to test the product."Like Myers, Cohee remains committed to Kirkwood. Despite relinquishing his overall duties to head up the real estate effort, he still rises at 4:45 each morning to record conditions on the ski phone, something he has done since 1979. It's not unusual to see him directing weekend traffic on busy days, either. Cohee says his first three years were rough ones in the early 1990s when a lack of snow threatened its future. But the Telluride Group purchased a significant portion of Kirkwood in 1995 and a well-conceived expansion was hatched.Due to weather conditions that leave only scant time for building, the Kirkwood Mountain Village master plan has slowly developed. Cohee says the resort can now sleep nearly 3,500 people, which is an increase of 1,400 beds since 1997. The eventual buildout of 6,400 beds could take another 15 years, but Kirkwood already possesses a cozy village feel and offers fine dining, a variety of condos, a swimming pool, skating rink and plenty of shops.Some of the locals may miss the old days, progress was inevitable. Carolyn Reuter-Cooper lives in South Lake Tahoe, but has retained her Kirkwood roots, working as the resort's retail buying manager. She still sees her parents quite a bit, visiting the same home that housed the Reuters since 1973.Although Jeanne Reuter believes life would be a little easier living somewhere else in the Tahoe region, there will be no budging her husband, who she met in 1960 at Squaw Valley and married less than a year later."Dick says he's not moving anywhere, he says they will have to carry him out of here feet first," Jeanne says. "The truth is we love it here." Jeffrey Weidel is a Sacramento-area free-lance writer with more than 25 years of skiing experience.