The Day After That

Certain questions linger in the minds of skiers and some will never go away. “Ski on storm day or the day after?” Last week I didn’t have to make that choice. I was locked in to ski the day after that.

I have a theory, or maybe it’s a coping mechanism, but it works for me. I’m better off getting to the hill as soon as I can, even if it’s not soon enough.

Last week, from the sidelines, I watched two storms drop snow on the East. Both storm tracks favored Gore, and if you count the snow from Friday night, the mountain recorded nearly two feet. Friday morning I headed north, rising at 3:30 to drive to the hill. I didn’t make first chair, but the crowd was surprisingly light and I parked in the A Lot at 9:30.

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Return to the Mountains: Back to the MAX

Since my fateful and educational collision with a tree at Stratton in early December, I watched my social media feeds with a mixture of jealousy and anticipation as the east got some good early season snow. Surely, I thought, Ullr’s bloodthirst was slaked due to my offering, and he was preparing the mountains for my return.

Then, right on schedule, came the January thaw. All of that glorious fluff gone thanks to two days of rain and near-60-degree weather. I began to dread the ice that would follow as I now fear ice in a way I hadn’t before. But as I kept an eye on the forecast and saw that some areas were due to get up to eight inches of fresh snow, I grew excited and decided to head up north for the first time in six weeks.

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Whiteface: When the Storm Chases You

Last week’s heatwave and subsequent rain storm caused no end of consternation among northeast skiers. Modern technology made it worse. Many of us spent last week checking and rechecking weather forecasts, obsessively going from one internet meteorologist to another, searching for a different model or a new track that didn’t spell disaster for the snow pack.

whiteface

Eventually we accepted reality, shifting our attention to the mountains where the damage would be the least. The meteorologists weren’t unanimous in their predictions but they seemed to agree that the mountains in the northern corner of NY had the best chances. Instead of chasing a snow storm, I was actually getting chased, halfway to Canada, by a rain storm.

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