Growing up in the Finger Lakes I had always heard of Hunt Hollow hidden away in the hills of Naples. The idea of a private ski club is certainly alluring, so when family scored guests passes, I had to bite.
My dad and Alex were equally excited, despite living less than half an hour away none of us had ever been there. We dried our clothes from pond skimming the day before at Bristol and loaded up first thing Sunday morning.
I’ve been lucky with the weather this season and Sunday was no exception. On the drive over we were greeted with a heavy snow squall and the road was covered from the nights previous snowfall. Pulling into the parking lot was like flicking a switch, the clouds dispersed and the sun came out.