Ready for Maple Ski Ridge

I’ve had it with the liftlines. I’ve had it with crowds and icy groomers and high-speed mega-resort hype. So had my daughter. We wanted someplace low-speed and low-key.

Someplace cheap and out of the way and un-intimidating. Someplace where you could glide onto the lift without hovering close to the inconsistently masked skiers.

We found it. Maple Ski Ridge, a 270-vertical-foot hill, is a few miles off the Thruway and 25 miles outside of Albany. It shouldn’t, I thought, be crowded. Outside of local families, I figured most people would head up to West or Gore or south to the Catskills. And if I figured wrong – an adult holiday lift ticket, purchased online in advance — was only $39.

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Greek Peak: A Rock in Central NY

I set three alarms, one for 5 AM, then one for 5:05 and one for 5:10. I only needed the first one and I didn’t even get any guff from Danger Boy when I went to shake him awake. He got dressed and moved to the back Subaru’s back seat where I had a pillow and a pile of fleece blankets waiting for him.

Our bags, skis, a cooler of drinks, snacks and a thermos of hot coffee were already in the car. We were on the road by 5:10. My planning and preparations had paid off. Getting my son up that early was a lot to ask so I let him sleep all the way to Virgil. We made our way out Route 17 in the dark.

We pulled into Greek’s parking lot at 8:30. It was snowing lightly under a gray overcast. My son moved to the front seat to boot up while I went to redeem our Indy Passes.

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Greek Peak: Expanding the Zone

Embracing change isn’t exactly my specialty. My life can be boiled down to a handful of things I do year in and year out, over and over. Work, eat, sleep, deal with responsibilities in summer, and ski and blog about my favorite hills during the season.

Greek Peak

I’ve been planning to ski Greek Peak for almost ten years. I certainly had my chances. From my desk at work, I’ve watched the mountain experience some great lake effect snow cycles. I remember a stretch a few years ago, when a persistent upper-level low lingered for more than a week, dropping — as they say in the Virgil Valley — “two-tree” inches a day, until it was game-on across the mountain.

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