Opening day at Cannon Mountain. Regardless of trail count or conditions, there is no place I would rather be. While en route to Cannon, I noticed a familiar pattern: the further north I drove, the more snow I saw. Coming around a corner on I-93 just past the Lakes Region, I spied the four major peaks of the Franconia Ridge caked in white, sparkling in a near cloudless blue sky. A rare perfect day at Cannon: blue bird skies following a major storm.
After breaking the pre-season legs in at Killington twice during November, I thought Cannon might be a disappointment. Despite operating one lift with only one route, Cannon did not disappoint due to mother nature’s bounty and a whole lot of thigh burn. Big Link, Middle Ravine, and Lower Ravine were open, the rest would have to be earned. I eagerly bought my $25 reduced price lift ticket and ascended Cannon’s Peabody slopes.
Guns were blazing everywhere with special attention being paid to a small stretch of Lower Ravine that was closed and Upper Cannon. Guns would be turned off on Lower Ravine and Upper Cannon later in the day as snow making moved down towards Middle Cannon. With a decent base already provided by mother nature, it is not going to take much snow making to get more slopes online.
The day started with loose granular and death cookies on Big Link. Fun! Middle Ravine was about the same down the gut, but a small amount of delightful packed and loose powder was found on skiers right, by far the best section of the route. Where Lower Ravine begins, the packed and loose powder switched to from skiers’ right to left which quickly formed okay bumps–they didn’t satisfy but still were very much appreciated. Franconia Ski Club was out in numbers and was a force to be reckoned with. Unfortunately, their drills were a bit too aggressive for a single route down. But with more terrain opening soon, there shouldn’t be a problem from here on out.
From the quad, I spied a fellow solo skier skinning Upper Ravine to access a filthy amount of fresh powder. I longingly looked at the untouched powder of Upper Cannon. But I did not want to undertake such a hike solo.
After five runs, I stopped at the lodge for warmth and a snack. While contemplating how late I should bother staying for such meager offerings, I bumped into Porter who I knew from previous ski outings. I was delighted to join Porter and his three friends for some late morning turns. Also, I was delighted to have hiking partners for an adventure.
Early afternoon brought warmer temperatures and lots of sunshine which softened things up. Big Link was decent on skiers left and Middle Ravine was getting really good on skiers right. After a few runs, we broke for lunch and began devising plans for a trip to the summit.
After a quick trip up the Peabody Express Quad, we noticed a skier coming down Upper Cannon. I searched the man’s face for a sign regarding the conditions. At first the man’s face was rather blank as if transfixed by a trance. But then as he skied past us, I noticed the begins of a huge shit eating grin spread across his face. We clicked out of our bindings and began our ascent via Tramway.
Shortly after Tower 2, we spied another party following hot on our heels. At the intersection of Tramway and Vistaway, two skiers skied out of Vistaway. As they passed me, I asked how Vistaway was. The guy paused, then said it sucked with a laugh and started climbing. Knowing Vistaway was already tracked up, my mind focused on Taft Slalom where I believed the best snow might be.
About halfway up, I decided that I was definitely purchasing AT gear as soon as possible. The climb was shorter than it felt even though the snow was getting deeper as we ascended. Porter out distanced our party and skied from the summit down to Tower 3 where the rest of us were still slogging along. The excitement was contagious and carried us up to the beautiful summit surrounded by trees caked with snow. Porter and I skied back down to Tower 3 once more and met the other guys at the top of the Cannonball Quad.
We found Taft Slalom untracked with about 6 inches of light fluffy powder over a decent base. Some blown areas were almost a foot deep. I made the “sacrifice” to go first since I had a camera that could take both pictures and video. Staying left of the rock band, no one bottomed out. I especially enjoyed the last hundred feet of descent before veering off onto Upper Ravine. The snow depth here was considerably less in quantity, but just as sweet in quality.
With thighs burning, we slugged it out back to the base lodged where most agreed it was time to call it a day. But Porter began a rally. With the words spoken that “you only live once,” the entire party was destined for the summit once more. By now the sun had begun to set behind Cannon and the wind had picked up. Our original boot prints up the mountain a mere hour and a half ago had disappeared, filled in by blowing snow. We moved quicker this time, with full knowledge of what awaited us from the Summit.
My right thigh began locking up almost immediately during the hike. I knew my legs were tired before we went up again, but I hadn’t expected a cramp to stall our progress. After spending ten minutes stretching and massaging the problem area, I deemed myself good to go. Porter had to return to the base lodge for missing gear when my cramp struck, so we continued on without him knowing he would catch up to us. But we hadn’t guessed how quickly he would undertake that task! Halfway between Tower 2 and Tower 3 we spied Porter making haste up Tramway behind us. Clearly, Porter was Possessed by Powder and soon passed right by us. We stopped for video at Tower 3 before continuing on to the Summit where we determined Tramway would be the best line of descent.
Stopping twice to film video, we made filthy turns through near virgin powder. Six inches was the norm but I found a foot of blow down low. What a rush. You never realize how long a single trail really is until you hike it, but you never realize just how short it is until you ski it in powder.
With thighs burning, we were brought back down to reality unmercifully when we hit Big Link which was completely scraped down. Even though I have said it many times previously, Big Link was about as bad as I have ever skied it. Which probably means it was about the same as all the other times. Had I not just hiked for turns twice, my legs probably would have been up to the challenge. Middle and Lower Ravine suffered similar fates to a lesser degree. Our party descended in a less than graceful style after the hard earned heroics up high.
You only have so many opportunities in a life time to ski fresh powder. If you’re lucky, a few of those times will be untracked. You simply cannot pass them up. A winter hiker was born during that first hike up Tramway. Earning turns increases the opportunity to find untracked by an unfathomable amount. You only live once, indeed.
