MT. CRESTED BUTTE — The incense is burning. The waterfall trickles as the lava lamp bubbles. Outside, a windy chaos is blowing.

The radio crackles with calls about high winds toppling trees onto runs. Ski patrollers are calling from every corner of the steep Crested Butte ski area with warnings and observations.

Jim Harlan, the dispatcher for Crested Butte’s ski patrol for 19 years, draws some calming vibes from the tapestry-flanked collection of Peacemakers in his corner of the mountaintop patrol headquarters shack and answers the squawking with quiet ease, directing patrollers with chain saws, sleds and closure ropes across the area’s 1,400-plus acres.

“A lot of times I just have a weird sense where everyone is,” he says. “It’s just a feeling I get and I know what they need, what they are reporting, where they’re headed.”

The 47-year-old Harlan is the maestro of the patrol, conducting the mountain’s acclaimed red coats from a wheelchair he has rolled since the summer of 1983, when a dive into a swimming pool broke his neck and left him a quadriplegic. He’s the only full-time, professional ski patroller in the country who works from a wheelchair.

“I think I have one of the best jobs in the valley,” he says in a rare moment of radio silence. “It’s pretty hectic up here but exciting. It’s pretty cool to have a job that I really want to come to every day.”

Harlan’s wheels have hardly hindered his lifestyle. He monoskis Crested Butte’s gnarly steeps with grace and poise. He has raced with the U.S. Paralympic cycling team, earning several national and world titles. An avid artist, his engaging pencil drawings hang in the local bakery.

This spring he joined an able-bodied skier and set a world record for skiing the most named runs in a single day, traversing 64 runs at Crested Butte ski area.

“We worked pretty hard, and conditions were not too good,” he says. “Next year, I’m doing it again. I think I can get over 80 easy.”

While not a particularly competitive self-promoter, Harlan likes to push himself. He angles deep carves on his mono-ski, sometimes dragging his bucket seat as he arcs high-speed turns across the slopes.

His skills on the monoski can inspire both first-timers and experts who pass through Crested Butte’s vaunted Adaptive Sports Center. More than two decades ago, Harlan was one of the center’s first athletes as he transitioned from Smoky Hill High School track star with a full-ride scholarship to Gunnison’s Western State College to first-time monoskier.

“He gives our students a little better perspective,” said Christopher Hensley, the center’s executive director. “He’s been an important part of our program.”

Harlan doesn’t just work with skiers. He often travels back to Craig Hospital in Englewood, where he spent his first months after his life-altering injury. There, he meets with new residents and gives them what he calls a “pep talk.”

“I try to tell people to focus on what you can do, not what you can’t do,” he says. “There’s still a world of opportunity out there, and some of the opportunities I’ve had show that. I look at my life as a pretty good life. Full, fun, rewarding and challenging.”

Harlan’s tales of adventure on skis can captivates, as can his quirks. He hasn’t had a car for 12 years. He has never owned a cellphone and doesn’t watch television. He eschews e-mail and harbors a mistrust of government.

“I guess I’m anti a lot of stuff,” he says.

Harlan recently took a couple of days off from work. Upon his return, his patrol colleagues gave him a round of applause.

“People definitely notice when he’s gone,” patroller Karl Plambeck said. “He really does run the mountain.”

Jason Blevins: 303-954-1374 or jblevins@denverpost.com