The four states that form the northern border of the United States east of the Great Lakes are home to some truly phenomenal skiing. It’s not always world class, but gravity works the same here as it does everywhere else. (In fact, some of my physics friends have even told me that gravity works better at low elevations than high ones :P) Anyway, ever since our private running of the Stowe Derby, we’ve been scratching our heads trying to think of another fun outing. Then one morning I awoke with an idea! In the great outdoor tradition of creating lists as a way to boast achievement, I decided that we should try to link a string of ski days together in the four states. Unfortunately however I really like saying the word “trifecta” more than the words “four states,” so I decided that we could skip one state, and only ski three. Our choice (sorry Maine) was to ski in New York, Vermont and New Hampshire. To up the ante a little bit, and in an effort to give all of us a “fresh perspective” on the mountains we’ve been shredding for years, we also decided to choose descents that none of us had ever done before.
Christian and I started it all off in New Hampshire where–believe it or not–there was an entire DRAINAGE that neither of us had skied in all our combined ski seasons on this state’s “big man hill.” I had been doing some sniffing in the area for several years, but the storm track never gave this zone the right snow to make it worthwhile… until this year (hint! hint!). The curmudgeon lead the ascent amidst fields of gremlins.
We were about 97.33% (repeating of course) sure that we were in New Hampshire, but ever since the talk about dealing Killington to New Hampshire and Mount Washington to Vermont you can never be certain these days.
After working our tails off for several hours, finally we got to the top. The descent starts when you go left instead of taking the usual right.
It’s funny: sometimes I work really hard to try to get to a location at just the right time so the light is just right for a picture, but after all that work fog rolls in and we’re stuck wondering which way is up. Other times however, I wake up late, have a cup of coffee reading the news, and roll into the lot at the crack of noon only to get the most incredible light dancing in front of my lens. Our New Hampshire descent fell into the latter variety.
I’m sorry if I’m tooting my own horn… but I love the pictures from this set.
If the sun has to be out (i.e. it’s not snowing), I can still be happy if it looks like this.
Down lower we were thankful the snow pack was thick.
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