Going Deep -- After Mount Baker's History-Making Winter, Here's The Deep-Snow Forecast: Get Prepared For LA Ni centsNa Ii

Words barely do it justice.

White outage. Her Royal Deepness. Dump royale.

Up at Mount Baker, they're all terms used to describe and pay homage to the legendary winter of 1998-99, which buried lifts, lodges, ski-measuring stakes (and, regrettably, a handful of skiers and snowboarders) on its way to setting a world record for annual snowfall.

Eleven hundred and forty inches. Just short of 100 feet. Enough to bury the Statue of Liberty well past her outstretched elbow.

A nice memory, no?

Uh, no. Before you set aside those snow shovels still being used to scoop away the remnants of the Big One, consider a couple of frightfully delightful words the National Weather Service now uses to describe last year's big winter:

A warmup.

The winter of 1999-2000 is an odds-on favorite to become La Ni centsna, The Sequel.

Hang onto your pit zippers: Pacific Ocean currents foretelling last year's dumpage are uncannily similar this season, scientists say.

Of course, snow forecasting, just like electing "reform" candidates to Congress, comes with no guarantees. Nobody's quite ready to predict another record-toppler. But weather gurus are confident the big snow of winter past was but an omen of winter future.

For Northwest snow freaks, the meaning is tri-fold: Those of you who thought last year was heaven can reserve your favorite spot on the same cloud for this season. Slackers, doubters and need-a-lifers who missed out on a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity might have the unimaginable luck of seeing it strike twice. And from Mount Baker to Mount Bachelor, powder snorkles will be in order.

Nowhere on the planet, however, will snow send shivers up the backs of parka people more frequently, or with more powdery panache, than at Mount Baker, the legendary Northwest Washington resort where God occasionally closes the highway just to have Chair 8 to himself.

When it comes to snowfall, even in a bad year, Baker is good. The best, in fact. Cumulative snowfall figures show two classes of ski and snowboard resorts in North America: Mount Baker, and the also-rans.

The mountain's average snowfall, derived from snow statistics dating to 1927, is a fingernail over 650 inches. Impressive, yes, but it doesn't fully register until the competition weighs in. Many resorts with reputations for steep-deepness barely make it halfway.

Consider: Vail: 355-inch cumulative average. Red Mountain, B.C.: 262. Lake Louise, Alberta: 137. Steamboat, Colo.: 348. Aspen, Colo. 258. Telluride, Colo.: 251. Alta, Utah: 522. Deer Valley, Utah: 341. Big Mountain, Mont.: 327. Sun Valley, Idaho: 186. Jackson Hole, Wyo.: 374. Grand Targhee, Wyo.: 464. Mid-mountain, Blackcomb, B.C.: 340. And so on.

In "drought" years, Baker still leads the pack. But last season, when Baker not only exceeded its annual average, but nearly doubled it, the snow contest turned into a laugher.

Add to this equation the fact that Baker's base area, at 4,300 feet, is 1,000 to 2,000 feet lower than many of those competitors, and you've got the makings of a true winter legend.

Why is Baker the undisputed snow king? Location, location, location.

The prevailing weather pattern for Washington winters is warm, moist air barreling in from the Southwest. Look at a topographic map, and you can almost visualize the resulting snowfall patterns. Cascade peaks in the Central Washington range stand, at least in part, in a snow shadow created by the Olympic Mountains, which take some oomph out of wet winter storms. Large peaks not affected by this shadow - most notably Mounts Rainier and Baker - get the full frontal blast.

It's no coincidence, weather experts say, that the two most prolific snowfalls in recorded history, Baker's 1,140 inches last season and Rainier's 1,122 in 1971-72, occurred where they did. Both peaks are only 60 to 75 miles from saltwater. Extremely moist air slams unimpeded into the glacier-draped mountains, cooling as it rises to the top, and dumping most of its moisture in the form of snow.

This effect is even more pronounced at Mount Baker Ski Area, which newcomers usually are surprised to learn is not on Mount Baker at all. The ski resort actually lies closer to 9,127-foot Mount Shuksan - north and east of Baker. When the typical southwesterly storms hit Baker, rapid uplift causes freezing air on the shoulders and crest of the 10,778-foot peak. The resulting snowfall drifts with the southerly winds right into the waiting arms of Mount Baker Ski Area, where it's put to good use by some of North America's most gung-ho snowboarders and skiers.

"You can actually see it when you go up in a plane in the fall," says Gwyn Howat, the Mount Baker marketing director who grew up at the ski area. After the first snowfall of the season (which occurred in late August this year), "there's brown everywhere, but right around the ski area, there's this arc of snow."

Many times, areas at the same elevation seven or eight miles away remain dry. As winter progresses, that arc gets as deep with snow as anyplace on earth - at least any place with snow-measuring equipment.

The effect is even more pronounced with La Nin centsa, which packs a pair of atmospheric changes that enhance the mountain's already formidable snow-grabbing talents. The Pacific jet stream, which normally travels far south in winter, arcs sharply north, pointing its "nozzle" directly at Western Washington and delivering much wetter than normal weather to the region. A concurrent shift in the Polar jet stream pushes cold air from Alaska and British Columbia much farther south than normal.

The collision zone is roughly the Mount Baker Ski Area parking lot. Most days last winter, you could almost hear the impact. Certainly, it was felt. A La Ni centsna winter is pure hell for bus drivers and car poolers, absolute heaven for skiers and snowboarders.

Even longtime Baker veterans - most of whom have sucked up so much Shuksan powder that even big dumps have become old hat - were left in awe by last season's relentless snowfall. Hardcore snowboarders and skiers never will admit there's such a thing as too much snow. On the other hand . . .

Even snowboarders get frustrated with whiteouts, and you could count the number of snowless days last year at Baker on two gloves. Baker's biggest annual event, January's Legendary Banked Slalom, was nearly canceled amid 50-mph-plus winds and 45 inches of fresh snow in three days.

"It's a vintage Baker day," one race survivor remarked after the last run. "Ten feet of fresh and three feet of visibility."

Weather at the resort was, overall, a few degrees colder than normal - but much, much windier. The warm, wet rainstorms that normally carve away at the ski-area snow base several times each winter were limited to one - which quickly was followed by yet another massive snowfall.

For the first time in its history, Baker closed for two days in February, just to dig out the lifts and lodges.

The stupendous snow depths also were at least partially responsible for the deaths of three people. Two were lost in mid-February in a massive avalanche in Rumble Gully, a popular backcountry area on Shuksan Arm, their bodies recovered later. The other, a 25-year-old Bellingham man, disappeared in the same area. His body has yet to be recovered.

The deaths prompted ski area manager Duncan Howat, long admired by Northwest thrillseekers for fostering the development of backcountry snowboarding, to issue unprecedented backcountry restrictions: No one goes under the rope without a shovel, an avalanche transceiver, and at least one partner.

It wasn't entirely popular. On the other hand, no one died after the edict.

Baker's ski patrollers, prepping for another frantic winter, hope La Ni centsna, The Sequel, packs as much snow punch as its predecessor - but gets treated with the respect it deserves by skiers and snowboarders. While La Nin centsa snowfall is a boon to all Northwest resorts, this is a particular concern at Baker.

In spite of its remote location, massive snowfall, steep, slippery access roads and older lifts - perhaps because of them - Baker always has been a magnet for Washington's most free-spirited snowboarders and skiers.

Rest assured, last year's snow record, and the promise of a repeat, will only increase the pull. The ski area, nestled between Shuksan and Baker at the head of the rugged Nooksack River drainage, was legendary even before the world snow record. The place has a charismatic allure unlike any other in the country.

Baker's most avid fans, in fact, will tell you that all the talk about jet streams and nozzles and adiabatic cooling rates and prevailing winds is fine, but not that important when you consider what really brings the big dumps to Mount Baker.

That would be karma.

The theory is that a few thousand snowboarders rushing up Highway 542, high on life, fresh air, caffeine and other stuff, can create an emotional vortex, of sorts. And nasty winter weather, any meteorologist will tell you, absolutely abhors a vacuum.

Let the suction begin. If you get pulled in, don't panic. Tighten all buckles firmly, keep the knees bent, the eyes open, the mouth closed - and this season, perhaps, a signal flare gun at the ready. You never know when you might find yourself in snow deeper than you.

And if we learned anything from La Ni centsna, Part I, it is this: No matter where you are at Mount Baker, it's a long walk back to the lodge when there's 27 feet of snow on the ground.

'98-99 AT A GLANCE. BAKER FACTS

What happens when the sky literally starts falling? Staff members at Mount Baker Ski Area compiled a list of oddities from the winter of 1998-'99 including these:

In the first seven days of ski-area operation, snowfall totals 102 inches _ a good year's worth for some mountains.

It snows for 35 consecutive days between mid-November and mid-December.

Many of the area's old-growth firs snap in half from accumulated weight.

Groomers wear out three snowcats digging out chairlifts and moving snow.

Skiers and snowboarders arrive Dec. 2 for a once-in-a-lifetime treat: Snow that's truly waist deep, after 36 inches buffet the mountain the previous night.

Backhoes are enlisted in a seasonlong effort to carve the tops off roadside snowbanks so that they don't form actual tunnels over the Mount Baker Highway.

A total of 19.5 feet of snow falls between Jan. 28 and Feb. 11.

Three people die in the ski area's backcountry, leading to more restrictive backcountry policies.

For the first time ever, the ski area shuts down for two days in its peak season, February, just to dig out.

In February alone, snowfall totals 304 inches.

In March, ski-area operators add a 6-foot extension to the existing 300-inch snow-base measuring stick. The base later tops out at 318 inches near the lodge.

Baker's budget for dynamite, used to blast avalanche chutes, triples.

Help-wanted ad is placed in local papers: "Shovelers needed."

Baker's notoriously steep "double diamond" chairlift offramps are buried in so much snow that they become virtually flat.

Employees tunneling to the parking lot one morning can identify their cars only by vehicle-top ski racks _ the only things visible.

LA NINA PATTERNS: WHEN, WHERE TO GO.

Go to Baker. Avoid Taos.

If the past is prologue, Northwest snow freaks won't have to venture far from home to enjoy the riches of La Nin centsa, the sequel. Neither will they have to wait long to reap their reward.

The following 1998-99 season recap of where snow fell, and when, was compiled by actuary Tony Crocker, who logs snowfall and ski-area base depths across North America.

Late Oct. to early Nov.: Oregon starts off with a bang in mid-October, with record early snowfalls. Utah and the Southwest are hit by big dumps, providing what would turn out to be a very misleading seasonal kickoff. Washington totals are average or below.

Late Nov. to mid-Dec.: Northwest resorts get hammered. Pacific storm patterns run through Oregon, Washington and Western Canada, leaving U.S. Rockies resorts in a relative drought. One major storm swerves south in early December to give skiing life to the Sierras.

Late Dec. to mid-Jan.: Storms continue to wrack the Northwest, but also hit the northern Rockies from Steamboat north at Christmastime, finally spreading through the remainder of Colorado in January. California, Utah and the Southwest are bone dry.

Late Jan. through Feb.: The most intense storms of the winter dump almost continuously in the Northwest. Snowfall also is high as far south as Utah and the Sierra and below normal only in the Southwest.

March: Early in the month, storms continue strong in Alaska and Canada. Spring comes to most of the West for two weeks in mid-March. Fresh snow returns to most of the West during the last week.

April: More familiar late-season snow patterns return. Snowfall is high in California, Utah, Colorado and the Southwest (where most areas already were closed), well below average farther north.