At the top of Red Mountain, British Columbia, 2,900 feet above us, wind-driven snow sculpted trees into pure white creatures out of Dr. Seuss. Down at the base lodge, gentler flakes drifted in front of my goggles.

The four of us had spent the morning carving silent tracks on Granite Peak, the higher of Red's two lift-served summits in the West Kootenay region just over the border from eastern Washington and Idaho. I say silent, because ski edges make sounds on snow depending on the texture of the surface: clattering sounds on ice, whooshing and slicing sounds on packed snow, zipper sounds on hard corduroy. This snow -- a dusting of powder as fine as talc -- made no sound at all. Skiing through it was like frosting a huge cake with your feet.

A cold, gray sky kept the snow perfect hour after hour. (Warm temperatures are the enemy of silent snow.) By midday, we needed a break and took one at the Paradise Lodge, high on the mountain's backside. We had the bacon/mushroom burgers from the outdoor grill (thick slabs of maple-cured bacon) and then, before heading back out, some coffee.

I volunteered to fetch the joe, and I was doing fine at the coffee Thermoses until I tried to pick up and carry all four at once. The lady behind the cash register hurried over, saying, ''Can I get you a tray for that? Would that make it easier?'' It was as if we were protected by a magic spell of niceness that generated in us a warmth beyond the wonderful skiing.

MYTHICAL MOUNTAIN

I'd known about Red Mountain, through the ski press, for decades. The hill, while not exceptionally high (6,800 feet) or dramatically alpine (softwoods drape most of the steeply folded shapes), had nevertheless acquired a potent mythology. I knew it was the home mountain of Nancy Greene Raine, Canada's vibrant gold and silver ski racer at the Grenoble Olympics in 1968.

Before that, it had been the first lift-served ski area in western Canada (1947). And before that, way back in 1896, it was the site of Canada's first recorded downhill race. In recent years, Red has hosted the annual Molson Canadian Freeskiing Championships.

The terrain and snow, not to mention the serious-skier fraternity, were obviously world class. But Red had somehow, in an unassuming Canadian kind of way, escaped the vagaries of celebrity and overdevelopment.

So, after years of promises, my wife and I -- from Denver -- together with old friends from Telluride, made the trip in January, flying to Spokane via Salt Lake City, and renting a car there.

We knew the mountain by reputation, but we didn't know anything about Rossland, the hilly Victorian-era mining town at its base. Scandinavian gold miners built the place overnight in 1890 with the requisite brick storefronts along Columbia Avenue and steep-roofed, pastel-colored houses up and down the precipitous side streets. For a few years, with a population of more than 7,000, Rossland was the biggest city in British Columbia.

Today, with a population half that, the only remnants of the mining era are a wonderful museum on the edge of town and a still-operating smelter in Trail, six miles away on the Columbia River.

LATE BLOOMER

As happened in Aspen and Telluride, the miners brought their Norse-country passion for skiing with them. And, when the ore played out, snow (and off-season recreations like golf and mountain biking) became the precious commodity. But the transition to a tourist economy came late to British Columbia.

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