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.

At that moment it dawned on me; driving to 4+ hours to the Adirondacks and sleeping in our cabin to ski Gore on Saturday, would be significantly easier then leaving in the middle of the night to make first chair in the Catskills. It would also allow me to check progress on a project we’re working on. I was on the road by six and arrived around 11 PM. I lit a fire, stoked it for a while and then hit the sack.

I’m used to a certain kind of audible, where let’s say, I’m know I’m going to ski, but I’m not sure exactly where. Catskills or Adirondacks? I don’t often just cancel or add a trip at the last minute. One thing that motivated this out-of-character move was the planned opening of Gore’s Chatiemac trail. Earlier in the week, Gore had announced that they’d spin the Straightbrook Quad for the first time Saturday. The messaging made it seem likely that Chatiemac would be open and ungroomed.

I’ve got a thing for Chatiemac, it may be my favorite piste at Gore. I surely like the way it rolls, but even more I like the way Gore rolls with it. Often while Hawkeye wears a bowtie, Chati is sporting ripped jeans. Bumps, ungroomed, thin cover and natural snow. For me, just hearing the trail’s name brings back visions of some insanely great spring days.

In the morning, I waltzed into Gore’s base lodge and headed for my usual bootup spot, way in the back of the main floor. I can often find someone I know back there, at that hour. This time, I didn’t find anyone before I headed out to get in line for the gondola. Half way across the deck I bumped into Duck, one of the all-time great ski partners.

Duck convinced me to ride the quad instead of the gondola to the Saddle.  “One run on the bottom, and we’ll head to the top.” After a lap on Sunway, and one on Uncas we were off to the summit of Gore for the first time this year.  We got off the lift to find a rope stretched across Chatiemac 90% of the way, with a small opening and a posted warning. At Gore, this is almost always a very good sign, an omen of good skiing ahead. When it’s posted at the top of Chatiemac, it’s like a sign flashing the word “adventure.”

Duck and I came around the corner and saw our first big whale at the intersection with Hawkeye. We dropped into find a fantastic array of odd-shaped bumps that were primed to provide the weightless moments we were after. Some of them were as high as the snowguns themselves.

When you have that kind of mogul variety and frequency, you’re presented with a quick barrage of important decisions about angles of approach and landing. It can make you giddy, if you nail it. Mistakes can, of course, result in some compression, all part of the game. The snow was a mishmash of all kinds of things, especially under a few active snowguns, and certain spots were definitely to be avoided. It was all edge-able, even if sticky or slick in a few spots.

Duck and I skied Chatiemac six or eight times, and one point he looked at me to comment. I thought sure he was going to say he’d had enough, but instead he said “this is why I came today, let’s do it again.” I’m with you man, great day.