Copper Peak - Reaching the Top

The 18-story elevator awaits.

The walk from the top of the chair lift to the base of the tower to board the elevator is roughly two city blocks. As I approached another member of the Copper Peak team asked if I was ready to go up, then got in the elevator to take us up.

Their website says "visitors take a thrilling 18-story elevator to the observation deck." The elevator ride was typical of most, the thrill came when the door opened and you walk into a small booth then out a door onto an chain-fence enclosed deck allowing views in every direction.

An advantage of being the day's first customer was getting to ask a few questions and having the guy take a picture with a lot of sky and tree tops in the background (photo below).

Steps to the starting gates.

If you wish, you can go the rest of the way, stepping through a gate on to the wood stairway next to the in-run jumpers descend to build up speed for the jump.

It's an ordinary stairway with hand-rails on either side. The walls on either side focuses attention on the stairs. Given the potential fall if tripped, I took one step at a time with hands on the railing.

Maybe two flights worth of stairs later, you come to the various starting positions. There is a bump-out for a landing and entrance on to the in-run where jumpers take a seat and wait for their turn to start their slide downhill.

Signage at the top of the tower explained that advances in ski technology means skiers don't have to start the jump as high to fly as far off the jump. Copper Peak is currently making improvements so it can become a stop for international competition. The goal is to host professional ski-jumpers in 2024.

The landing zone is outlined by the road.

Ski-jumpers typically slide out on to a bench, then attach the skis they use to fly. They start from a seated position, preparing as they slide for maximum lift at the end of the jump.

I was enjoying exploring the jump but I would not jump. Years ago, our family went to the local ski jump hill in Eau Claire, watching kids and young adults compete. It's an exciting sport, watching athletes fly.

The elevator operator took the elevator back down while I climbed the stairs, explored the starting chutes, and reached the top.

From the top looking at Lake Superior.

I was surprised by the quiet. There was surprisingly little wind, I felt an occasional breeze. I was above ground noise and beyond the reach of bird calls and sounds in the forest. The closest person was on the ground, 26 stories below.

It was a peaceful moment to think and consider God's amazing creation stretched above and below me.

I took several dozen photos from a height usually associated with flight. Trees were just beginning to change color the week of our visit, creating patches of yellow, red, or orange in a sea of green. (Photos below)

I'm not sure how long I was on the jump above the observation deck. It was calming and prompted reflection. I was thankful to be on top of this part of the world.

From atop the tower I saw a couple nearing the top of the chair lift, knowing my time alone in the air was coming to an end I retraced my steps back to the deck where I waited several minutes for the elevator to arrive with a car-load of adventurers, including one declaring they were not going any higher.

I welcomed them and encouraged them to go as high as they could because it was worth the climb.

My last look through the fence on the observation deck. 9/19/2022 dwm photo

Back at ground level, it was time to complete the round trip by taking the chair lift down to where most people lived.

Going down.

The lift felt more comfortable going down except when I considered what could happen at this height. When those thoughts occurred, I took another picture with my left arm around the arm of the lift.

It felt good to see my wife returning my wave as the lift returned me from whence I came.

As the lift descended the final hundred feet to the base, I was glad to be back and glad I didn't give into my fear. I felt great to have been at the peak of the jump (1,782 feet above sea level - the highest man-made ski jump in the world).

I learned later my wife didn't realize until she saw the top of the jump (top photo in 9/27/2022's post) how high I actually went.

Instead of regretting an opportunity lost, I could celebrate and remember this experience for a lifetime.