Rancher has big impact on Olympic downhill

PINEDALE, WYO. » The rancher from western Wyoming wears tan overalls pulled over a U.S. ski team jacket, and is every bit as versed in the nuances of hay farming as the subtleties of snow grooming.

He doesn’t even ski for pleasure much anymore due to aching hips, yet the Olympic fates of Lindsey Vonn, Aksel Lund Svindal and many of the best speed skiers are directly tied to the handiwork of Tom Johnston , a no-nonsense cowboy who spends his days toiling among hay bales on nearly 1,800 acres of leased fields near his home in Boulder, Wyoming (population: 170ish).

Johnston also just happens to be one of the world’s foremost experts on shaping a race course , most notably the downhill and super-G tracks that Vonn, Svindal and the rest will zoom down in February in South Korea.

Every tooth-rattling bump and knee-buckling jump on the Pyeongchang course will have been exhaustively groomed by Johnston and his crew, whose goal, in ski parlance, is to create “hero snow” — the grippy surface on which these world-class speedsters can confidently push the envelope.

“A very nice track,” is what the 55-year-old Johnston is promising for a course that was designed by Bernhard Russi , the Swiss downhiller who won Olympic gold in 1972. Johnston has made seven journeys from his home to South Korea over the past two years to inspect and shape the Olympic terrain. “I really enjoy it.”

Johnston has six weather websites loaded onto his phone — including one from South Korea to keep current on conditions — and views them so often that his wife Cassy recently had to increase their phone’s data plan.

He likes to give off a gruff first impression — “I really don’t have time for all these interviews,” he lamented — but, during a leisurely tour of the properties he oversees, it’s clear he’s something far removed from acerbic.

He’s proud of every parcel of this land.

Here lies some of the most sought-after alfalfa in the county. On the other side of a dirt road bordered by badger holes, he shows off his laser-leveled land that produces various classes of hay. They’re meticulously planned out so water doesn’t gather and ruin the consistency of the crop. Across the two-lane highway, reside his roughly 125 head of Red Angus cattle.

On the horizon, the mountain range.

His life used to be a cycle: haying in the summer and, when it turned colder, heading up to Jackson Hole mountain resort so he could coach and direct events the ski club produced. Johnston’s family would follow him there — until the three kids reached school age. He eventually just pulled along a camper or stayed at a cheap place for a few nights before making the 80-mileish drive home.