What Becomes a Boise Legend Most

BY KAREN DAY

Pandemic or not, Greenwood’s observance on his long and healthy life remains the same. “I’m happy to be alive and it beats the hell out of the alternative. I play golf three days a week, when I’m not on the mountain.” He claims he’s softened up since the old days, in his '60s, when he used to set race courses or work ski patrol despite blizzards or nightfall. “These days, I’m only on the slopes in good weather and never on the weekends. Can’t take the crowds.” He chuckles. “I’m getting spoiled, I guess.”

Greenwood grew up in Wisconsin, not exactly a high-mountain haven for those seeking vertical pitch. Early life in the midwest in no way foretold his future as a dedicated purveyor and champion of downhill skiing in Boise, Idaho. He served in the Navy from 1944-46, then a year in teacher’s college in Milwaukee. Everything changed when his family moved to Spokane. “I came west and never left,” Greenwood says, clearly still in love with the romance of the old west.

After graduating from Washington State University in 1950, he arrived in Boise and found his first job selling ski equipment at CNS Sports, which became Idaho Sporting Goods in 1957 and currently, the downtown YMCA annex. “When the shop changed hands, I left in August and opened my own shop in October. Bob’s Ski Haus. The rest is history,” says Greenwood.

63 years of local history, to be exact, since Greenwood's Ski Haus, with new owners, is still busy serving downhill enthusiasts on Bogus Basin Road. Today, four high-speed quads carry an average of 1,800 skiers an hour, but in 1957, the first chair lift at Deer Point was still two years away. And even earlier, since 1939, when famed ski powder pioneer, Alf Engen selected the site, just making the 172 dirt turns leading up the mountain to leather-strap-on a pair of heavy, six-feet-long, maple skis was as dangerous an adventure as racing down the ungroomed slopes.

“I’ve been driving that road for 50 years,” Greenwood laughs lightheartedly, which he does often. “Used to be when it snowed, the mud at the lower end could be as deep as your axels. Driving the road today is a piece of cake. The road, Bogus ski area–it’s a gift to Boise. And Boise is a gift too–to me and all the people who get to live here.”

The number of snow-hounds served by Greenwood’s store and knowledge is unknowable, but the long-term benefits can be measured in three generations of his own family. His three children grew up skiing on Bogus, as are his two granddaughters now, and eventually, his new greatgrandson.

Whether Greenwood is relating yesterday’s golf score or the reality of surviving the pandemic against his ageodds, a light-hearted sense of humor and gratefulness pervade his conversation. So many of his peers have passed, yet his stories of years gone by are devoid of melancholy. One can’t help but feel his near-century has taught him the joys eventually outlive the complaints and sorrows-–that crystalline mornings of fresh mountain powder and a perfect, six-foot putt are as precious as mud-to-your-axles and sand traps. That skiing down Bogus Mountain with your kids, grandkids and great grandkids is what truly makes a life legendary. And most of all, that we’d all be wise to heed Bob Greenwood’s advice. “Just keep moving, if you want to keep breathing!”