Relaxing Out West

It’s been a great season for East Coast skiers, but if there was one thing we lacked so far it’s been a real spring.


Pre-appointed closing days have been shutting the doors and turning off the lifts at some areas without the opportunity for even one good beach session, cruising groomers and hitting bumps all in the name of getting a good tan and saying goodbye to winter the right way.

With this in mind, I pointed my gear to West Mountain on the mandatory work holiday for Good Friday. West’s location is an advertisement in itself, easily displaying its fully loaded slopes overlooking the Northway, and it seemed like a few other skiers had the same idea.

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North to West Mountain

I packed my car in the rain and weighed my options. I was getting a late start, but with February comes a later setting sun and options, especially this year with everybody pushing 100% coverage.


I recently saw a weather guy call this week the seventh inning of the season. I guess that makes sense, because if you’re a serious skier you know that we’re deep into the game, even as we hope for solid March and extra frames.

With everything on the table, I drove to West Mountain for the first time since 2012. I’d have a night skiing option if I arrived late or wanted to grab more vertical. West is located so close to I87 that even with the weather, I didn’t think the drive would be tough.

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Go West (Mountain), Young Man!

I’ve wanted to ski West Mountain for a long time. When I was a kid, every time we drove to Vermont my dad would look over from the highway and say “we should stop there sometime.” On my most recent trip north I saw the lights from the highway, and remembered those childhood car rides. On the return trip I decided to stop, and what I found surprised me.

For me, showing up at a ski area in the late afternoon was unique and memorable. When we arrived, we were greeted on the triple side by a couple of friendly snowmobilers who gave us directions to the proper base area. The young lady at the ticket counter could have been the owner’s niece judging by the way she carefully sharpied the expiration time on our lift tickets.

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