Author Archives: miker92
The Mile High Club still eludes me, and I’ll never hit 500 home runs, not with all the steroids in the world.
But last Thursday, I joined the ranks of another exclusive set–this one of die-hard east coast skiers, and perhaps even more prestigious.
For the record I did it with Naked Viking Man, Girl in Bikini, and an army of green t-shirts that read “I like big bumps and I cannot lie.”
November is a dangerous time of year for productivity. If you’re like me, you’ve got a few extra tabs open in your browser at any given moment: one for NOAA, another for your blogging ski-weatherman of choice, and maybe another for a favorite mountain.
With rumors flurrying last week about a few inches here or a foot there and with Killington’s trusty machinery as a fallback, I knew I’d be on snow come Saturday morning. The question was where.
For the first time since I learned to ski at age five, the season snuck up on me. I’m usually watching powder edits by mid-August and scraping off summer wax in early October, just in case. Fresh out of college and living in a new town with a job, though, I had other things on my mind this year. When temperatures started to dip toward the end of last month and pictures of dusted peaks began popping up online, I almost wasn’t ready.
The sticker is modeled after one of the most iconic images in skiing: a rectangle with two lines of elegant, efficient text offset by white and red: “Mad River Glen: Ski It If You Can’t Ski Hickory.”
When I first saw one, I chuckled at the different possible meanings presented by both the original and the parody. Like too many New York State skiers, though, I continued driving right past Hickory Ski Center on my way to Gore for years without much consideration for the mysterious mountain in Warrensburg.
I knew the place operated on a similar principal to that at Mad River: preserving the classic, pre-corporate ski experience. Unfortunately, part of that experience means Hickory doesn’t have any snowmaking, and in recent seasons sparse snowfall in the southern Adirondacks has left it closed more often than not.