Lake Placid Loppet: The Forecast Called for Pain

I haven’t blogged much for NYSB this year. Skiing at Mt van Hoevenberg on 1 December, I crashed hard when Pumphouse Road turned from groomed powder into a rock garden. A torn acromioclavicular ligament put me outta commission. When I returned to skiing, it was decent early season conditions. No one wants to hear “It’s thin, but really good” when downhill writers are contributing stories with epic powder shots.

Lake Placid Loppet

Early on, the big storms were missing us in Saranac Lake. Gradually, conditions improved in the Tri-Lakes. Three inches here, three inches there, and pretty soon you’re skiing in good conditions. By the time the Lake Placid Loppet rolled around, we had serious midwinter conditions.

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Cruising at Cascade: Winter’s Last Gasp?

“Don’t take off your snow tires yet,” my mechanic advised me. “It’s March. Anything can happen.” Sure enough, the following Sunday, snow started falling in Schroon Lake as I returned from rehearsal with Katye Kellye and The Interruption. I spent Monday, 11 March, clearing my driveway and an elderly neighbor’s driveway.

On Tuesday, I drove to Cascade Welcome Center. When I arrived, it was already above freezing. For all I knew, this might be the last ski of the season.

Cascade Welcome Center abuts Mount van Hoevenberg. In January 2022, the Adirondack Mountain Club bought Cascade XC from the Jubin family, its longtime owners.

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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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