One of Killington’s mountain men dies

Rutland Herald | October 28, 2017

By KAREN D. LORENTZ
CORRESPONDENT

Royal Biathrow, Killington founder Preston Smith, and Henry Biathrow are reunited on the occasion of Henry’s retirement party at the new Skyeship Base Lodge in 1995. Roiyal was Smith’s first employee and helped him create the resort in 1957. Henry was recruited a year later. PHOTO BY MAC MCGILLIVRAY

Royal E. Biathrow, who died Wednesday at 84, was Killington Ski Area’s first employee in 1957 and leaves a legacy of ski trails and ski tales as interesting as the man himself. Born and raised in Bridgewater, Biathrow became a logger during high school. He served in the army in the Korean War and married Norma Towne in 1954.
His wife’s father operated a gravel and construction business at the corner of West Hill Road and Route 4 in Killington, and Royal went to work for him, gaining the heavy equipment experience and the steepmountain bulldozer expertise that would come in handy for building ski trails.
A big man with a Vermont sense of humor and abundant Yankee ingenuity, Biathrow was one of the first locals to notice the potential in the Killington Ski Area.
In his characteristic storytelling fashion with the mischievous twinkle in his eye that told you he knew the double meanings of what he was telling you, Biathrow was as fond of sharing Killington stories as he was proud of having helped Killington founder Preston Leete Smith develop the ski area.
“I could always count on Pres to come up and get that old Lincoln stuck on Friday nights. I’d pull that old car out and take him back to the farmhouse. I could count on making $10 from him every weekend,” he said of his first memories of Smith in a 1988 interview.
Biathrow became Killington’s first employee in 1957, helping Smith build a “work road” to the mountain.
At a 50th-anniversary gala in December 2008, Biathrow regaled people with tales of the muddy road that existed from the old Bates farmhouse to the mountain.
Oneof the stories he shared concerned his idea to put slab wood on the road so as to “corduroy it” so they could get the bulldozer and trailer that carried supplies up to the mountain where they were cutting the lift lines and ski trails.
Noting Smith had a Volkswagen that got stuck when it slipped between the boards, he said Smith put it in gear, got out, and pushed. Soon Biathrow, who was driving the dozer, was amazed to see “a driverless bug” following him up the mountain.
Biathrow concluded his remarks at the gala on a more serious note, evincing the pride of the original pioneers: “At the end of the day, we built something that’s going to be there forever.”
In interviews about the history of Killington, Biathrow said, “It took a certain type of person to do that work, it was rough conditions. We always had three crews. One was hired, one was leaving, and one was coming.”
Men sometimes arrived improperly dressed for the mountain climate, or took one look at the rugged mountain and fled. The “steady crew” were mostly large men like Smith and Biathrow who could work all day, take time off for supper, and then work on into the evening.
With the difficulty of getting to the mountain each day, the men built rustic cabins on Snowdon and lived there during the week. They made their way down to the farmhouse on Friday nights, where beer and haircuts were in order. Smith played barber, Biathrow said, adding he “felt sorry for Sue Smith with all the mud they dragged in.”
Reached at his home in Florida, Preston Smith said Friday, “Royal was just a great guy— affable, fun and a hard worker. He could run chain saws, bulldozers, and trucks. He was smart, too. He knew how to put things together and solve problems. He had all the fundamentals for problem solving.” Getting creative
Illustrating Biathrow’s dedication and work ethic, Smith told of their working together on the top bull wheel of the original Killington chairlift and having trouble with the 2-foot long, 6-inch wide pin and its very fine threads.
“It was brutally cold,” he said, describing their barehand struggles to get the nut on that pin. “We were both strong as oxen, gritted our teeth, and got it done — who else would have done that all day?”
Royal also devised a method for anchoring the lift tower feet of the first Killington Gondola so that the helicopters delivering them could immediately take off and leave the men to secure the bolts to the concrete foundations without the danger of vibrations moving the tower on them.
A construction supervisor in summer, Biathrow carved trails, roads, and lift lines with a large TD-14 bulldozer. He helped build every lift up until Bear Mountain and worked on the installation of the first snowmaking system. In winter he operated lifts and supervised snow removal along with cooking, grooming, or helping out wherever needed.
Royal got his brother, Henry, and Henry’s wife, Jo, jobs working at Killington in 1958, Jo Biathrow recalled, commenting that, “Killington was Royal’s life.”
Henry noted Royal “did everything and loved what he did — he was right into it.” That included building the rolls that packed snow for the Case tractor, which Henry and Royal rigged up with wooden tracks for Killington’s first homemade grooming machine.
“Back when we started, we dug the foundation holes (for the lifts) by hand and built the wooden forms. We mixed our own cement, hauling the materials up the mountain and using a little cement mixer,” Henry said echoing Royal’s early pride in building 95 percent of everything by hand in the early days.
Royal retired from Killington in 1980, continued to work as a constable in Killington until moving to Rutland Town, worked for the county sheriff’s department and later as a currier for Casella Construction before becoming “fully retired.”
He leaves his wife Norma, son Howard and daughter Nancy Wiles, four grandchildren, four great-grandchildren, and a legacy of ski trails that continue to be enjoyed by snow enthusiasts.
A memorial service is planned for a later date; arrangements are through Aldous Funeral Home.
Fittingly, and in accordance with his wishes, his ashes will be spread over the mountain he loved.