Andy Sahlfeld’s first year on the Mt. Baker Ski Area Ski Patrol was, quite literally, a blur.

Sahlfeld, then 29, saw the mountain reach a world record for snowfall that 1998-99 season — nearly 94 feet. The conditions buried chairlifts and lodges and caused large-scale backcountry avalanches.

“I came into it as a complete rookie,” Sahlfeld said. “It was pretty overwhelming. I didn’t even know enough to be scared.”

Now Sahlfeld, 38, and serving as assistant Pro- Patrol director, barely looks up from his coffee as he describes a rescue using 300-foot ropes anchored to trees to retrieve a professional snowboarder and her photographer from a steep backcountry cliff a few seasons back.

He racks his brain for “more exciting” stories from more than a decade he’s spent as a Pro Patroller on the mountain. The calm demeanor is all part of the job.

“You’re used to seeing people in various states of despair,” he said. “But it’s easy to calm people down. Ninety percent of the people you see are going to be OK. Ten percent you’ll make a difference in their outcome. It’s knowing who those people are and how to deal with it.”

The ski area employs 16 full-time professional ski patrollers and nearly 150 volunteers.

Each Pro Patroller must pass rigorous skiing and toboggan proficiency tests, in addition to required emergency medical, avalanche and cliff-rescue training.

An additional 70 medically trained people volunteer their time as part of the effort to keep ski-area visitors safe.

Though Hollywood films and urban lore have painted ski patrollers as wild partiers and showoffs, Sahlfeld tells a different story.

For the eight to 12 patrollers on shift each day, work starts as early as 4:30 a.m. “It goes beyond just enjoying being outside,” Sahlfeld said. “We often work 12-hour days in ski boots in windy, cold conditions. It takes a lot out of you.”

Often hitting the slopes before daylight, patrollers examine or do control work on each of 32 avalanche paths — areas with known avalanche potential — every day. The process can take up to five hours, depending on weather conditions and snow pack, with eager customers waiting for the mountain to open.

“People think we’re out all morning skiing deep powder lines when the chairs are closed,” Sahlfeld said. “More like traversing deep powder.”

That’s just the start of the day. Patrollers must also be sure boundary markers aren’t obscured or damaged, in addition to responding to injuries and keeping a lookout for “poachers” — visitors skiing or snowboarding in closed areas.

Sahlfeld said patrollers spent the entire 1999-2000 New Year’s Eve searching for a missing couple in the Swift Creek drainage. They were found about 3 a.m. “They would have been long gone (without assistance),” he said. “People forget that this is a natural environment and start to think it’s a rollerskating rink and everything is safe.”

Pete Durr, 29, joined Pro Patrol this season after taking a previous night job so he could spend days skiing. “I’m getting used to it, but it’s always challenging,” he said, recalling an accident a month ago when a snowboarder hit a tree. “The jump is called “goalpost,” Durr said. “He didn’t clear the upright.” Durr responded to the boarder, who had lost a dozen teeth.

Patrollers know their customers aren’t the only ones who have something to lose. In Sahlfeld’s time at the mountain, two patrollers have been buried or partially buried in avalanches. In both cases, he said, their partners quickly retrieved them.

At the end of the day, patrollers head back to the A-frame cabin they call home for the season. If they’re lucky, bedtime is 8:30 p.m.