First Chair at 70: 65 Years of Wyoming Skiing at White Pine

On January 4, 2026, Virginia "Ginny" Hout-Gibson got first chair at White Pine on her 70th birthday. But she wasn't alone. Her brother Bill Hout, his wife Elaine Hout, and their lifelong friend Don Jackson were right there with her.

The same four kids from Pinedale who learned to ski here in the 1960s are still making turns together.

That's what 65 years of White Pine looks like.

Getting There Was Half the Battle

In 1961, just 20 years after the mountain first opened, five-year-old Ginny was grabbing the rope tow for the first time.

Getting to the mountain meant having a 4x4, and even then, someone was always getting stuck in the mud. Ginny's mom - Patricia, who "was a skiing feen" - would show up in her white Jeep - which was always more mud than white.

When cars got stuck in the mud at White Pine - which was all the time - everyone would stop to help pull them out. That was just what you did.

There were no fancy base layers or Gore-Tex shells. Kids skied in Levis. Ginny remembers one winter skiing in leather shorts with suspenders, which were a Bavarian-style, because that's what they had.

"You were always a step away from frostbite or hypothermia," she says, "so you just kept skiing."

She remembers the wooden skis with cable bindings and lace-up boots. And how the cable bindings would always freeze up in the cold.

While some families bought burgers from the grill, or brought sandwiches up, Elaine's mom sent her daughter up the mountain with cold baked potatoes, salt, and pepper, all tucked neatly in a bag.

The Houts and their friends made skiing work however they could.

Ginny's father, William Bell Hout, was a mechanic in town and he became White Pine's unofficial lift mechanic. The old rope tow would break down all the time, so he'd be on standby to fix the old car motor that powered it. That's how Ginny and her siblings were able to get ski lessons.

Don’s mom sold lift tickets there - at the time, it was only $6 a day. It's how he got to ski all the time up here.

Pinedale Peewees to Ski Racers

The ski instructor who taught Ginny and the kids during that era was Monty Skinner. He ran the ski school at Sun Valley. His wife Donna was an avid skier too, as well as their daughters - Ellen, Mary, and Amy - who all ski raced too.

Mary Lynn Whorl taught Don Jackson.

The Skinners owned the Ford dealership in town, and their family essentially defined the racing culture at White Pine in those years.

Ginny's younger brother Jack Ryan started ski racing at 8, so naturally Ginny started at 5.

They were all called "the peewees" on the hill.

She later raced in Park City and had a few medals.

But ski racing can be unforgiving if the course gets chewed up.

In her last race at Snow King in Jackson, Ginny came down after other skiers, including local Mary Skinner - "a better racer who'd earned a better seat position."

By the time Ginny hit that section, the snow was rutted, and she fell.

"I was scared," she says. "So I didn't want to do it anymore."

But her brother Jack kept going though. His nickname was "Jean Claude" because he was that good. He'd do flips and daffies off the rocks and into the air while kids watched from below on what is still called Sunny's Run today. He skied like he'd been born on the mountain and was heading to the junior nationals until he blew out his knee playing football.

Steve Pfisterer was another Pinedale kid who became a local legend on the race circuit, along with his sister Renee and brother Harvey.

And there are many other notable skiers from here, such as Karen Korfanta, who have gone on to compete, make a name for themselves in the ski industry, or simply just rip at skiing for themselves and their love of the sport.

These were and are the skiers who make White Pine mean something beyond just a local ski hill.

They were fast, they were fearless, and they are proof that a small Wyoming resort can produce real talent.

Ginny kept skiing for the rest of her life.

"Skiing is in my blood," she says simply. Growing up here skiing, just does that to you.

The Lodge Through the Years

When Ginny first started skiing, there was a small, basically empty log cabin near the base.

"Real rustic, just a fire to keep warm."

That's where families would gather between runs.

Patricia would bring cinnamon rolls to share with other skiers and the kids.

That's the kind of community it was then. 

You took care of each other. You skied together. And you almost froze together!

In 1965, later in her childhood, White Pine built a substantial lodge, or well, a real lodge that was long and narrow, with big floor-to-ceiling windows looking up at the hill. There were rooms you could rent behind the kitchen and the bar. There was a big bar that served liquor, tables where families would gather during and after a day on the mountain.

"It was beautiful," Ginny remembers. "You'd come in from skiing and go in there. It was almost all glass, so you could look out at the ski area."

She remembers what came before, as she's known four lodges at White Pine during her lifetime.

White Pine was a place to gather. Ginny's older sister even got married in the parking lot. It started snowing during the ceremony, so they rushed inside for the reception. That's a White Pine wedding!

The Mountain and the Lift

That original rope tow was rough. It would almost jerk your arm off catching it, so you would have to brace yourself and get ready.

Everyone wore long stocking caps in those days, but "no way we should've worn those, as they often get caught up in the rope tow."

When the resort upgraded to a pommel lift, it was always breaking down.

The line would stretch "10-to-15 minutes, and about 20% of people couldn't get on the thing. Little kids would get launched off it," Ginny fondly recalls laughing. 

The terrain was different then, too.

The pommel lift was where Lynx and Steve's Run is today.

Upper Fremont was called "the Ridge," and what's now Bonneville was "Sitz Mark."

On her 70th birthday run, Ginny skied down Bonneville. But for her, it was, "I skied down Sitz Mark!"

A Town That Raised Skiers

This was Pinedale in the 1960s and '70s: a town where kids would stop at Korfanta's Drug Store - now the Collective - for Green Rivers and "the hooch" (ice cream with malted milk and chocolate syrup, all layered) for 50 cents.

Albert "Sunny" Korfanta was the local pharmacist, but also one of Pinedale's most legendary skiers, and the guy who essentially got our ski hill off the ground back in 1940! So it only makes sense that his drug store was also the central hub for skiers to convene off the mountain.

And in winters with heavy snow, they'd run cutter races (horse-drawn sleighs racing), or simply skijor, down Main Street. Cause sometimes getting to White Pine, wasn’t possible by car. 

There was also a ski course built off the bluffs on the first ranch on the left in Daniel. An old cat would groom it, and it's where they and the ski team would practice when some days getting to White Pine wasn't possible.

Pinedale is a town that has raised skiers because enjoying the winters with your kids here is just what you do.

And everyone pitched in to pull a stuck car out of the snow, or mud, because next time it'd be you.

Generations on the Mountain

Ginny taught all her grandkids to ski at White Pine. They snowboard now, but they learned here.

Ginny's mom, Patricia, skied at White Pine into her 80s - now she's a legend! - teaching her grandkids the same way she'd taught her own children… By example, by showing up, by making it work no matter what.

Don still comes up regularly to ski with his grandkids. Three generations now making turns on the same mountain he learned on.

The Houts, the Jorgensens, the Jacksons, the Skinners, the Shrivers (and other names not mentioned here) are the families who made this place run because they love it.

And who are still here, still skiing.

Glee

When you ask Ginny what White Pine means to her, she doesn't hesitate.

"Glee. Hometown glee. That's what I feel when I'm on the mountain. I ski fast, because of course, I ski raced. It just warms my heart skiing."

First chair at 70. With your brother, your childhood friends, and the people who've known you since you were that five-year-old skiing in leather shorts here, now that's special.

They skied together. They'd eat her mom's cinnamon rolls together when the lift would go down as they waited for her dad to fix it.

That's what generations of families at White Pine look like.

That's Wyoming skiing the way it should be.

With stories shared by Ginny Hout. Thank you, Ginny, for letting us share your White Pine story.

Stories like Ginny's are why we price our family season passes the way we do. We want your family skiing together for generations on the same mountain. Our season pass sale is happening now through March 15, 2026.

Ginny's is just one of countless stories from this mountain. If you have memories or pictures from skiing White Pine over the years, we'd love to hear them. They're part of what makes this place special. Send them to hello@whitepineresort.com.

For more White Pine history, visit the Bridger-Teton Friends spotlight and our Our Story page.

Pictured from left to right, Eliane Hout, Virginia "Ginny" Hout, Bill Hout and Don Jackson.