Cannon closed for the season last weekend with barely enough mid-mountain snow to operate. Sure enough, as soon as mountain shut down, mother nature queued up one last hurrah after a few stormless months. It was supposed to be a big one, maybe the biggest of the season. I put in for a day off and planned to end the season just like I begin the season: hiking at Cannon.

It was a total bust. A nasty season’s final insult. Cannon got one to two inches, which was just enough to cover up all the junk, but not enough to make it fun. I enjoyed being outside during a rip roaring storm, despite the lack of snow. But the skiing was tentative and my turns were atrocious with near constant vigilance for rocks covered over by a dusting to two inches.

The 2020-2021 ski season is done and dusted as far as I was concerned. Mount Washington’s siren song called my name. But the road bike called harder. After a winter of indoor training, I was riding faster than ever before, setting personal best times on all of my usual routes (during my first month on the riding season, no less). The feeling of getting stronger and more powerful was addicting. Spring skiing was not in the cards for me.

Today was a fitting end to a lack luster season.