Spring Skiing in Maine is Wicked Pissah

Sitting complacently in my camping chair staring down at the remains of the lobster I’d just devoured, an involuntary smile spread across my face from ear to ear.

Out west, our brethren are still reaping the spoils of “Miracle March,” posting powder photos on Instagram, but in this moment I felt no envy. Here I was in shorts and a t-shirt, sitting in a parking lot at Sunday River enjoying a lobster boil and a cold beer in between sessions of soft, sun-soaked spring skiing.

I love powder as much as the next ski junkie, but this past weekend in Maine was about as good as it gets.

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Catching Winter at the Right Moment

The 2017-18 season has been a tale of at least two winters. We got off to a promising start with big storms in December that opened up trails, and the snow was preserved by a persistent and brutal polar vortex that lasted into the second week of January.

Then MLK weekend featured a devastating thaw with significant rain that devoured the eastern snowpack, and since then conditions have largely mirrored last year—extended dry periods with mild temperatures, punctuated by brief periods of heavy snowfall. Getting it while it’s good has required patience, luck, and a willingness to go the distance—sometimes even as far as Quebec.

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It’s Always Snowing at Hunter

Five years ago, in March of 2013, I took my first spin on skis at Hunter Mountain. I spent two days tumbling in slushy spring snow, working my way from the bunny hill to the summit. Finally, on the last run of the second day, I took the Kaatskill Flyer to the top of the mountain and skied Belt Parkway all the way to the base.

I was hooked on skiing, and I have since skied over 120 days since, progressing from faceplants on the beginner slopes to confidently skiing steep western bowls and icy east coast moguls. Every visit to Hunter is a nostalgic trip down memory lane, revisiting the snowy Catskills slopes where I first fell in love with winter.

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