My ski season got off to a slow start. I’ve been obsessive, watching the weather, figuring out where to look for powder nirvana. After watching the storm track for most of last week, and not being able to ski Friday or Saturday, I set my alarm for 4:30 Sunday morning with plans to go to Magic or Plattekill.
When I awoke, I did a quick search online and opted to get a couple more hours of valuable sleep by skiing closer to home, at Plattekill. I grabbed a quick coffee and headed west into the Catskills. There were at least a couple of good omens: a beautiful sunrise and the mountain tops were glistening under a fresh layer of snow.