Beastly Skiing at the Beast

Skinning Under the Snowdon Quad

Today had all the makings of fantastic adventure: equipment failure, gear breakage, poor packing skills, lost helmet ear pads, and horrific skiing. Depending upon one’s outlook on life, it could have either been a comedy or a tragedy. Or both. My amusement while “skiing” (i.e. attempting and failing to link two turns) suggested comedy. But my frustration with trying to engage my Dynafits after falling (again) and associated broken brake suggested tragedy. I laughed, but I didn’t cry.

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Tuckerman Ravine: Because It’s Still There

Steve 4

Steve 2

While hiking back up for my third run, I overheard a descending hiker mention that “you only see snow in July so many times in your life.” That is true for hikers and die hard skiers alike. Having now skied in July four times, I almost started to think of it as a regular occurrence. Something to be expected as normal and just another part of my season. Which it is. But that comment in passing reminded me that no ski day should be taken for granted, especially a July ski day.

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Jay Peak: NSBS Day 3

Skinning Contingent of the NSBS

Beginning our last run back to Stateside Lodge, I saw the same scene repeating itself as we started down the flat top section of Montrealer: groups of skiers and riders posing for a picture with Jay Peak in the background. It’s something I have done myself in the same location from both sides of the camera. Groups can be expected to be doing this any time during a clear day. I skied past one group. And then another group. And another after that.

And then it hit me. Again. It needs to keep hitting me until it sinks into my thick skull that is so bent on personal experience. What we do as individuals matters less than what we do together with others. I’ve had epic days this season. Deeper powder days. But no days before nor days to come are a match for the past three days. There was something special happening.

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Meadow Skipping at Tenney

Skinning up Venus Fly Trap at Tenney

Hair of the Dog style leg rehabilitation continued today at Tenney. While ski areas were fully tracked out and busy with the holiday crowds, there was still uncrowded slopes and untracked powder to be found. I began skinning under a bluebird sky hot on the track of the only other soul on the mountain.

The skin track was just as flat and meandering as most of Tenney’s trails. The snow was fluffy in nature with no base to speak of. Snow depths were significantly less than at my house just a few miles away as the crow flies. Lack of trail mowing was evident but no worse than could be expected.

My original plan called for inspection and subsequent descent of Snap Dragon: Tenney’s steepest trail. But base depths and snow density clearly suggested meadow skipping would be the safest and most enjoyable option. On the descent, I scratched up my boards skiing a trail used as an access road. Low angle grassy trails were best!

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Vertical Assistance at Cannon: 3 Runs in 4 Hours

Taft Slalom

Readers from last season may recall that I tend to have exceptionally good days at Cannon when my number of runs are equal to or less than the number of hours taken to complete them. Saturday was no different with three epic runs encompassing my limited window of four hours. Unlike some previous epic days, my route selection left something to be desired today.

With substantial untracked powder still awaiting plundering, today’s destination decision relied exclusively upon unopened terrain pods. Cannon and Smuggs were the only two options. Time constraints came down on the side of Cannon. So with the help of one high speed quad and two low speed quads, I got at it.

Since my top to bottom ascent earlier this week, the wind had taken its toll on the snow. Some spots were wind buffed while other spots had been picked clean to the grass. But the usual areas were filled in and promised bottomless turns.

Upper mountain tracks were a sublime combination of dense powder, creamy wind buff, and powder. I took Taft Slalom to Upper Hard twice which had to be the best ski run in New Hampshire on Saturday. Only a tiny amount of junk to avoid at the usual spot on Taft Slalom. Otherwise, this run was full on hard charging bottomless goodness. Nothing less than laugh out loud sensational powder skiing. I was dumbfounded to only see a half dozen other turn earners near the summit all morning.

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