Ski museum chronicles Engen's story

PARK CITY — To get an idea of what childhood was like for Alan Engen, it pays to check out the black-and-white photo archives at the Alf Engen Ski Museum, named after Alan's father, Utah's most famous skier.

There you'll find snapshots of Alan learning to snowplow at age 2, ski-jumping at age 6 and expertly schussing down Alta's Punchbowl at age 11 for a Boy's Life magazine cover spread.

In another shot, Alan is standing upside down on his wooden jump skis, poised at the top of Park City's old Ecker Hill for a daredevil run on his hands. There's no helmet. No aerodynamic ski suit. Only Alf Engen, crouched at his son's side, offering encouragement: "Go ahead, son. You can do it!"

Alan grins as he strolls through the museum, remembering what it was like to have the coolest dad on the block. "Sure, I miss him," he says, pausing at an exhibit of his father's medals and trophies. "Everybody misses my dad. He was one of a kind. Just look at what he did for skiing in Utah."

Indeed, the Norwegian ski pioneer loved nothing more than sharing his love for skiing with first-timers. For anyone who hasn't been to the Alf Engen Ski Museum since it opened five years ago, now is the perfect time, says Alan, 66, who recently joined me for a Free Lunch chat in Park City.

After a few hours learning about our state's early powder hounds and checking out the 2002 Winter Olympic memorabilia upstairs, you just might be inspired to try out one of the ski jumps next door at Utah Olympic Park.

At the least, you'll go home with a new respect for the skiing pioneers who ventured into the outback with homemade skis and bamboo poles in search of the perfect hill.

"In the early days, there were basically two groups: the backcountry skiers who started the Wasatch Mountain Club and the Norwegian jumpers who put on exhibitions at Ecker Hill," says Alan. "It wasn't until the early '40s that people started to say, 'I think I'd like to try skiing myself rather than watch somebody else do it."'

Alan, of course, grew up on a pair of skis, beginning on a bunny hill in Sun Valley, Idaho. By the time the Engens moved to Salt Lake City in 1948, he was jumping off hills and following his father down black diamond runs at Alta, where Alf had founded the Engen Ski School.

Ask Alan what it's like to fly through the air on a pair of wooden skis, and his periwinkle-blue eyes sparkle. "It's a very good feeling — nobody ever got hurt ski jumping in the air," he says. "It's when you land that's the problem."