The conifer stood upright but slightly bowed under its crystalline coat of snow. Not even the slightest breeze disturbed its reverie near the top of Lincoln Peak. The sun caressed the observer’s face with gentle warmth, and somewhere a bird was trilling a song of joy for the beauty of the day. Far off in the distance other peaks wore their white mantles proudly.
It was great to break free this weekend after seven weeks of steady effort taking care of professional and family responsibilities. This weekend was a Top 10 day for the season, and a great opportunity to recharge the mind and body.
The Holy Grail for many a skier is the chance to get on the mountain after a fresh dump of snow and hammer the slopes and glades on a bright sunny day. When the sky is clear of any clouds it is called a Blue Bird Day. Welcome to Nirvana. Saturday, March 6 will go down as a banner day for many skiers who had a chance to get up the mountains. Up our way in the Green Mountains the day offered bright sunshine, temperatures in the mid forties, no wind, and nearly four feet of “the fresh” under foot. Sunday was just as good.
How snow feels under foot is a quality skiers and riders readily perceive when sliding down the mountain. Natural snow is always the focal point on this subject, as opposed to man-made, because of the perceived silkiness of “real” snow. There is some truth to this perception according to some analyses that posit the shape and variety of flakes from the clouds can’t be duplicated out of a snow gun. The stuff coming out of the snow gun is generally a rod-like shape and offers a completely different set of frictional qualities from a flake that has a much more open and airy structure. Temperatures of the air and mountain surfaces can, of course, alter the structure of snow crystals, as does the mechanical action of a board gliding across the surface. Put in a little radiant heating from the sun, and you can get a whole different feel between one day and the next, or even between the morning and afternoon runs. But I think it is safe to say that one of the most appreciated snow conditions is that soft, malleable, ball-bearing type of mix that is commonly referred to as “corn snow”. It is the hallmark of a great spring skiing day. And that is just what Mother Nature served up this weekend. You can glide on it, bash through it, or carve in it. It doesn’t matter how you use the media to get your thrill because corn snow is so…accommodating…for lack of any better description.
I have skied in temperatures of minus 15 ºF that were coupled with a high wind factor to produce an effective wind chill of minus 60 ºF. But the real point of interest I recall was the astringent quality of the snow; an almost palpable metallic feel, as it squeaked under the pressure of my skis. I don’t know what is different about the flakes in very cold snow, but I do know it is sometimes difficult to glide over if you don’t have the right kind of wax. And that is the kind of big secret professional racers and their equipment people know all about.
Powder snow of the kind known as “cold smoke” is no doubt the most sought after kind of snow, that is unfortunately so often absent from Eastern skiing. It’s low water content can make it as fluffy as baby powder, and it has a distinct feeling that is hard to articulate here, but I can say floating in deep powder is surreal. It's like a state of suspension with the undulating rhythm of ocean swells. We may see it once or twice a season in New England so one has to be ready or lucky to hit it right away because it is the least durable of all types of snow, and will get shredded and packed down by the army of skiing locals by 10:00 AM.
The sublime experience of dashing through waste deep dry snow that billows up and curls over your head to encapsulate you in your own private white room is without comparison. If I were speaking about such an experience out West it might be just another day at the office, but to have had exactly that thing happen in New Hampshire some years ago is forever burned into my memory. It is so rare to catch those conditions here in the east.
I remember another year where a day of spring skiing was particularly beautiful. Snow clinging to branch and bush transformed to glassine dew drops under a thaw/freeze cycle from the previous afternoon and evening. I left the ski area boundary and skied down a partially overgrown route to find a glittering corridor of diamonds all about me. The sunlight breaking through the bowed canopy, and off of a billion facets, produced an almost hallucinogenic effect. The refracted spectrum seemed to whiz past me during the descent that was reminiscent of that psychedelic scene from “2001 A Space Odyssey” as the astronaut is taken across time and space by the alien monolith.
Back to the present, E was content to relax at the lodge, and take in some rays while I played on the mountain. The outdoor patio was the place to be, but a seat was not to be found. Some people take a few runs then do the Euro scene: drinking, eating, chatting, and laughing the day away behind dark sunglasses. A spring day like this one brings out the crowds, and if you let it, the scene can crush the groove.
The trick is to go with the flow, chat up people while you’re in line, and wrap you head around the fact this beats work by a country mile.
It is not possible to really get a feel for the steepness of a slope from a photograph unless it is well beyond a 45º pitch. But here is a shot from one of the double diamond runs I like at Sugarbush. It’s called Ripcord. The skier has the choice of skiing the billiard table, or lumps.
After a few slope runs it was time to venture into the woods. Here is a shot of the entry.
Once inside I was greeted with the unpleasant reality that the snow had not softened up. Let me tell you, skiing frozen snow with trees all about is something of a chore. So I finished that run and stayed out on the sun drenched trails for the rest of the day.
Moguls have always been a challenge since I didn’t learn to ski until I was nearly thirty years old. But time, patience, and practice has enabled me to ski some bump trails. Bumps provide that extra up and down, side to side, challenge to go along with the forward motion. I prefer the thrill of speed and gravitate to steep and smooth. I have skied Tuckerman’s Head Wall and can say that a steep descent has its own risk/reward that is completely different from a bump run. But corn snow is so easy to manage; what would otherwise be a tribulation coming down a run over “firm” lumps, can become accessible to most people of average ability.
On a lark I thought to video a run down one of the really fun twisting and winding intermediate trails on Sugarbush. It is a fine first run warm up, or ride back to the lodge on rubber legs at the end of the day. I figured I’d share this with cousins Dino, Rachel, and Katie, and her beau Chris, since I’ve been talking up having them join us in Vermont this year. Maybe this will be the motivator, so the 3 minute video is on Erik’s FB. I didn’t have one of those really cool video cams you can strap onto your helmet (hint, hint, E), so I had to hold a camera in one hand the whole time, thereby rendering my poles useless. Next time I video the run it will be with a helmet cam, at full speed first thing in the morning so I won’t have to dodge the tourists.
After the day was done E and I went and made reservations at one of the better eateries in town called Flatbread. The menu revolves around the pizza dish, but on a very thin crust. Everything is made fresh to order, and the cooking is so good the line for reservations cues up before 4:00 PM. We were early enough to secure the first duce at 5:00. Spending time relaxing with E over a nice glass of wine or lager, and decent meal, is part of the whole get-away thing I look forward to on these weekends.
In a quiet moment without conversation between us I noticed the cooking staff doing their thing. The preparation area is right next to the brick oven, that is, in turn, right out there front and center to the main dining area. Patrons can watch their meal being made. I’ll tell you what, that three person team had their manufacturing process down solid. Although all three were in constant motion, their efficiency was fascinating to watch. Each person knew the upstream and downstream partner’s progress, and there never was a stoppage in the one hour I spied on them. I swear they had a Kan Ban system going. They did not start cooking until the first order hit at 5:05, but I don’t think any table waited more than 10 minutes for an order to be delivered to the table. And the place was packed by 5:30.
Later in the evening E and I took a L-O-O-O-N-G soak in the hot tub under a sparkling night sky. Have you ever observed the winter sky from the mountains? The colder and cleaner air allows for less distortion and masking, so you are greeted with a view many times more impressive than what can be seen from the suburbs or city. We sat in the dark and let the jets work their magic. The spell was broken as one of our house mates slipped quietly into the tub with us. We were only happy to share. Later we were joined by our host.
The evening wound down with a movie on the upstairs home theater. The movie was brought by a friend of one of our other house mates. Pat is a photographer/cinematographer for a production company out of the Jay Peak area of Vermont. He was good enough to share the latest ski flick his company produced with some of his footage. Ski flicks are not a new thing, so the challenge is to find a way of presenting the material from a fresh perspective. Some of the tree skiing scenes were mind blowing, as I could not fathom how a person could ski through such densely packed woods at such speed without a major wreck. And one of those crazy guys actually threw a front flip while blasting through a tight tree stand. Unbelievable. It was a great way to close the evening, so E and I excused ourselves from the gang and descended to our room.
Sunday greeted us with more sunshine and chirping birds. I really could go for some more snow, but the spring thing is starting to take hold.
Ciao.
E
