Justin Guth, once a youthful teen skier who liked breaking rules, figured out a way to ski on the off-limits, roped-off, empty slopes in the Pennsylvania Poconos.

He joined the National Ski Patrol at age 15, giving him access to any trail he chose and allowing him to turn the tables, be the voice of authority, telling kids to scram.

Now 42, the Epsom resident has made a life helping people on the slopes, reassuring them, moving them down mountains, sometimes even saving their lives.

“The only reason I joined was because I used to get into trouble,” Guth said. “They would tell me no jumping, no going on closed trails. The only way to get around it was to join them.”

He’s done it ever since and he’s good at it. That’s why he and a handful of others were picked to work at the Winter Olympics last year in Beijing.

Guth monitored the steepest section of the downhill course and treated a competitor who suffered multiple fractures.

“Really difficult, steep, nasty,” Guth said.

He teaches his craft at Pat’s Peak Ski Area and also volunteers at the Killington Resort in Vermont. He travels around the country, in fact, teaching others how to patrol the slopes.

His paying job is as the director of health and safety for a construction company in Laconia. He’s volunteered for patrolling and he’s also been paid. He became an EMT after high school in Bethlehem, PA.

“After high school I ski patrolled fulltime,” Guth said. “I became an EMT. I’d work as an EMT for 12 hours, take a shower, and then back to ski patrol.”

He’s certified to teach at the highest level under the NSP umbrella, one of 800 instructors nationwide among 37,000 members.

“I surround myself with the best,” Guth said. “They keep me on my toes in that program.”

Keeping on your toes is vital in this kind of work. Through his 15 years as a ski patroller,  Guth, as a first responder, has had to ski hard and fast on the roughest of trails to reach someone.

He may backboard and collar someone to avoid spinal damage. He may give oxygen.

“That’ all you can do,” he said.

He’s gently moved patients, unable to walk, onto a cascade toboggan and guided them down. “You can treat them and get them to someone who can fix them,” Guth said.

The script doesn’t always finish well. Guth has seen the worst of the worst.

“I’ve seen pediatric fatalities, a father holding a baby when we got there, Guth said.  “Patrolling is unique. You may be doing nothing and minutes later you’re dealing with incidents that are the worst times in their lives.”

On another occasion, Guth cared for an Army Ranger who hit a pole and was paralyzed due to a fractured spine. He’s now confined to a wheelchair.

“A little older than me and he was a warrior and serving our country,” Guth said. “Those are the ones that are tough. The ones you can’t help are the ones that hurt.

Guth said he’ll keep patrolling the slopes until he believes he’s unable to pass the test for recertification.

Meanwhile, he and his wife, Amy, who have almost 50 years of teaching, promoting and saving in the patrol business, continue to ski patrol at Pat’s Peak and teach ski and toboggan programs across the country.

Guth’s father-in-law and brother-in-law were patrollers as well. They took their own paths to reach their goal.

For Guth, from a tough, blue-collar background in Bethlehem, Pa., taking risks was part of a streetwise MO. He said his career in ski patrolling as a teen helped him stay away from drugs, guns and gangs.

And little did he know that signing up would impact so many, including himself.

“I’d ski on the closed slopes,” Guth said. “They’d chase me down and bust me, take my ticket away. Now I’m doing the busting.”

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