Category: Powder Day

2002-2003 Season, April, Cannon Mountain, Powder Day

Cannon Mountain, NH

Lafayette from Zoomer Liftline

The plan was originally made a week ago; before it snowed. The plan was to hike a lower elevation mountain with good views such as Mount Monadnock or the Welch-Dickey Loop in Waterville Valley. The southern facing trails on such mountains were completely snow free by the last day of March and I was itching to get a jump on hiking season. With most ski resorts reporting lots of bare ground, slushy snow, and low trail counts… I planned to hike instead. Little did I know that I would be hiking in ski boots up a well known saddle on the northern flank of Cannon to Mount Jackson instead.

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2002-2003 Season, Articles, Cannon Mountain, January, Powder Day

A Mittersill Pilgrimage

Hiking the Saddle

Long have I anxiously awaited my first opportunity to ski Mittersill. I have always heeded the Backcountry safety maxim: never ski alone. And I almost always ski solo. So I waited. However; on this trip to Cannon, I knew before I even pulled into the parking lot that this was to be the day. During my first trip up the Cannonball Quad, I noted several people making the hike up Mittersill. I knew I could find someone to partner up with and stay safe. It was time to pop my proverbially Mittersill Cherry… I was to be a Mittersill Virgin no more!

From the summit of Cannon, I tracked down the quickly deteriorating but still excellent bump lines of Taft Slalom. Gathering up all the momentum I could, I flew as far up the col between Cannon and Mittersill as possible before slowing to a stop. I clicked out of my skis, slung my skis over my shoulder, and began my maiden voyage up the snowy stairway to skiing heaven and snowy bliss.

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2002-2003 Season, Cannon Mountain, January, Powder Day

Cannon Mountain, NH

Taft Slalom

I am not even sure where to begin. How do I put into words the type of day I had at Cannon? Suffice to say, it was one of the top three skiing days in my life. I had what I consider to be my best and most memorable run ever. I have never smiled, laughed, whooped, yelled, giggled, and all out had such a fun six hours in my lifetime. It was pure bliss, euphoria, uncontrolled hysteria. I was a kid again, carefree and fun loving. I had a ball.

I began my day with my customary early wake up time of 5:30 A.M. for the two hour drive to Cannon. Roads were still a little slick and drivers had an attitude. Not a fun drive up. As I laid eyes on the notch, I got an awesome feeling. The whole notch was cloud free… except for Cannon. The top 750 vertical feet of Cannon were socked in. It was the proverbially cloud over the head of Angry Old Man Cannon that followed him where ever he goes. As I drove through the notch, and smiled at Cannon’s personification and stammered my favorite mountain saying “Cannon, you big grumpy old man you!”

I was the polar opposite of that grumpy old man, I was a giddy smiling little kid. The weekend storm had dumped over half a foot of fluff on the broad shoulders of Cannon Mountain, and I was about to hit the candy store.

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2002-2003 Season, Articles, December, Powder Day, Ragged Mountain

A Different Breed: The Ragged Mountain Experience

Stinky's Slide

Driving to a ski area before the break of dawn, you realize that you share the road with a different breed of the human species. Normal people do not wake up at 5:00 A.M. on a Saturday and gleefully pack their cars in below freezing temperatures. Normal people do not embark on two hour crusades to remote far off mountains that are cold and covered with snow.

Normal people do not know the feeling of trying to earn first tracks on a powder day.

Once on the highway, you pass a Chrysler Minivan with two blurry eyed parents in the front seat, two kids zonked out in the back. You get passed by some college kids in a 1988 Subaru Wagon with bumper stickers that read “Mad River Glen, Ski It If You Can” and “Cannon – It’s A Blast!” Roof racks adorn the many SUVs driven by yuppies that can barely suppress their shit eating grins knowing that they will soon be devouring powder in a few short hours. These are a few examples of the rare form of the human species known as “Skiers,” and together we all drive far and wide to earn turns after a foot and a half of fluff gets dumped on central Vermont and New Hampshire.

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2002-2003 Season, Cannon Mountain, December, Powder Day

Cannon Mountain, NH

If only everyday could begin like this day. I awoke at the Hiker’s Paradise, a hostel in Gorham, NH. After a short drive down the road, I pulled over to the shoulder of Route 16 to take a picture of Mount Madison and Mount Adams, the northern most peaks of the Presidential Range. Amazing. After a brief drive around the Presidential’s and into Franconia Notch, I entered the parking lot of Cannon Mountain with a wonderful view of its trails.

In the lodge, I met fellow NELSAP’er and SnowJournal’er MadRider. We quickly set off up the Peabody Express Quad. The wind was hollowing ferociously, as one can often expect at Cannon. We tracked down Middle Cannon on pleasantly groomed snow and made our way to the Front Face. Upon seeing Zoomer filled up with 4-6 inches of powder, MadRider’s face lit up like a kid in a candy store. For myself, I was an awful powder skier at the time. I was about to tell MadRider I was going to opt for the tamer Rocket, but he was already riding down the pow. So onward to Rocket I went, not expecting to find what I did.

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