Gore Mountain: Snacking on a Donut

The rain has been relentless. On my last two drives to the mountains I found myself doing my best Brook Benton baritone. It helps me adjust to a March that looks like April. Still, I haven’t given up on winter. Last week, with a chance of snow in NY, and a bit of now or neverism in my mind, I started making plans.

driving in the rain
Did you ever feel like it was a rainin’ all over the world?

I skipped skiing Saturday, convincing Scott to roll with me to our camp in the Adirondacks that night. More accurately I convinced Scott to roll the dice with me, and ski Gore on Sunday. When I left NJ in early afternoon, I was driving up in a dreary winter downpour at 41 degrees.

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Gore Nordic: Coals to Newcastle

This winter, I’ve been content skiing in the neighborhood. There are seven ski centers (OK, two of them are golf courses) within 20 miles of my crib in Saranac Lake. Why travel?

The A climb
A climb

With the disastrous thaw, my local options have diminished. This winter, most of the big storms have gone south of the Tri-Lakes. Paul Smiths VIC was reduced to a few kilometers. Mount van Hoevenberg’s legacy trails, which I’ve only skied once this winter, were toast. I’ve lost count of the number of laps I’ve done on van Ho’s World Cup trails. On Sunday, I cleaned kitty litter, loaded the Fortunate Son and drove down to Gore.

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The Whales on Chatiemac

I go into the office to work every day, I actually prefer it. I have a desk and a chair and a light and everything else I need, just a few miles from home. Much of our staff comes in three days a week, while a few of us come in everyday.

On Fridays before a holiday, we often let those who are in the office leave early, a perk for coming in every day. It was pretty quiet on the Friday before Christmas, and when I remembered all this it was almost 3pm. I wished everyone a Merry Christmas, and sent them on their way. Then I did something I haven’t done before: I decided to take the rest of the day off myself.

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