Mount van Hoevenberg: The Happiest Place on Earth

With travel on two consecutive weekends, my workout schedule has been disrupted lately. Not feeling completely fit, I decided to skip the Climb to the Castle on 11 August. Wednesday would have to be my overdistance day. I didn’t want to spend seven hours in the woods, so I drove to Mount van Hoevenberg to run the old Olympic trails.

Like the rest of the Tri-Lakes, the Ho is inundated with tourists during the summer. Everyone wants to see the legacy Olympic venues. As I strapped on the unloader brace and my heart rate monitor, people were stepping up for the mountain coaster, the indoor climbing wall, and trying their hand at target shooting with the Be A Biathlete program.

At Peru Nordic, we refer to Mount van Ho as “the happiest place on earth.” As much as I’ve skied and run here, it doesn’t get old. In some respects, I suppose I’m like the triathletes who ride endless laps around the Lake Placid Ironman bike route.

Shrugging into my hydration pack, I ran down a side trail and crossed the roller ski track after looking both ways. Running behind the new biathlon stadium, I loped into the 1980 stadium. There are piles of dirt, and a shipping container filled with bike race stuff as workers prepare for the UCI mountain bike World Cup races at the end of September. The quiet of the old stadium was in stark contrast to the hustle and bustle at the new lodge.

Setting out, I planned to follow one of my favorite winter loops. Leaving the stadium, I headed uphill on Main Street, a wide two-way trail. At the top, I ducked into the woods to the connector taking one to East Mountain. At the height of land, you drop down into South Meadow Farm’s sugarbush. Without their easement, these trails wouldn’t be possible.

I ran on to the East Mountain trail and then hung a left on to Porter Mountain. The base of the big climb on East Mountain showed evidence of much needed maintenance. Thank you, Mount van Ho.

The first kilometers of Porter Mountain are rolling, lulling the unwary into a false sense of security. Then you go up one bump, down, and then meet the first hors categorie — “beyond category” in bike racing parlance — climb on the Porter trail system. I slowed down to a walk to keep my heart rate reasonable. Everything was green, with cool temperatures, and I had the place to myself.

After a decent and some more rollers, I turned in to Peggy’s Puddle, a steep downhill that looped right, followed by a stiff climb back to the main trail system. Peggy’s Puddle featured in the men’s 15 km race in the 1980 Olympics: big G-forces flooding athletes’ legs with lactic acid early on in the race and softening them up for the coming hills. I had the luxury of walking down it; my knees don’t like steep descents.

Working my way outta the hole, I came to the second hors categorie hill and went for it. Not unlike some NJ hills, it starts out wicked steep before the grade becomes easier near the top. From there, it’s a long downhill where one can recover before the the coup de grace. A gradual uphill section brings you to a veritable wall. On classic skis, they must have herringboned it in 1980.

There’s a just-as-steep drop before the long climb up the third hors categorie hill. Bypassing the Horseshoe turn used in the 1980 15 km, I went to the height-of-land before descending and dropping in to Big Rock, the outermost loop on Porter Mountain.

Big Rock starts with a plunging drop, and a cranking corner. The descent is longer than Peggy’s Puddle. I don’t know whether it was used during the Olympics. Unlike most of Porter Mountain, it was really overgrown, which slowed me down. I stopped to scope out some singletrack decorated with surveyor’s tape. Later, I learned that this would be a new trail to the top of Cascade Mountain. I climbed out of Big Rock and began descending the Roller Coaster Hills, which are pretty much what they sound like. Swooping, high speed descents (on snow) that bring you across a bridge.

Just when you think it’s in the bag, the Hill With No Pity (that’s what I call it; I don’t know if it has an official name) looms. A steep pitch that levels out some. Finally, there’s a long, straight downhill to a crankin’ dogleg left-right. Some flats, and then 0.4 miles to the top of Russian Hill.

After dropping off Russian Hill, it was Hi-Notch. This one-mile segment was part of the men’s 15 km race and the men’s relay. If I remember rightly, it also figured in the 1998 Olympic trials. There’s a steep climb followed by a series of five drops and shorter climbs. On snow, the descents aren’t long enough for one to recover, and you don’t carry enough speed to get over the top of the next hill. After fighting one’s way through Porter Mountain, this had to be a real mindf*ck for the Olympians in 1980.

After the height-of-land, you come to a T intersection. Left is the Mr. Van backcountry ski trail; right is the race route. Another crazy downhill to a 90 degree left. It’s awfully tight, a stark contrast to the new World Cup trails. Ski speeds were lower then.

Fiberglass nordic skis had only been around a couple years, and ski wax contained more paraffin than plastic. After that left, you plunge over a roller coaster that threatens to get you big air before merging on to the Ladies 5 trail.

By this time, my knees were barking at me on the downhills, and I slowed down as I came on to the new trails. The last two climbs on Ladies 5 and the drop into the stadium are part of the new trail system, and they still deliver. I dodged some of the trail construction for the mtb races as I went back to my car. Looking forward to skiing this when the snow flies.