On the eve of Sunday December 26th a long awaited double storm barreled into New England. The temperature was cold and the moisture was immense and a light fluffy snow began falling heavily. The snow parking ban for Salem went up with Police driving the roads warning residents to move their cars or be towed away. After digging out and removing my girl friend’s car to Gallows Hill Park down the street, I realized this was the perfect storm for any powder lover with one important exception: the storm would fall only in south eastern New England and the jackpot was reserved for areas furthest removed from the mountains: the coastal areas.
“When live gives you lemons…” as the saying goes, so that is just what I did. When my morning alarm clock began buzzing, a quick peek outside revealed what I suspected the night before: that work would soon be called off due to treacherous driving conditions leaving the afternoon open for skiing. The only problem was that none of my favorite ski areas up north received much for snow fall. I grabbed my gear and drove around the corner to access Salem’s biggest and steepest vertical drop figuring I might as well take advantage of some of the deepest powder in New England even if it is in my own backyard.
Gallows Hill in Salem, MA is so called since it was the location of the Witch Hangings that resulted from the Salem Witch Trials (which actually took place in nearby Peabody, MA). A small park now rests upon the hill’s flat summit area with another park and parking area below the hill’s southern slopes. It was from this parking lot that I began my ascent of Gallows Hill.
The Hill only rises about 60 Vertical Feet and despite being one of Salem’s steepest hills, was a disappointing pitch for skiing powder. After a few minutes of slogging up through the foot deep powder, I clicked in and began what would amount to a 15 second descent of pure powder bliss. I kept thinking the same thought throughout the experience: “I am one sick bird.” The early winter season has hardly deposited minimal amounts of snow in New England’s higher peaks which drove me to search powder where ever it may be.
It took a solid dozen feet of straight lining to build up enough speed to attempt a turn. The turns were soft and powdery with no risk of bottoming out; however, after a few quick turns the run was over just when I began to find my tempo and speed in turns. Hardy satisfying I hiked up for a second run which further added to the tease. It simply wasn’t long enough of a run to satisfy despite the powder, so I packed it up and headed to Crotched Mountain in Bennington, NH hoping they were close enough to the storm to reap some benefits.
