Ski the Place You're In
Saturday, April 7. The sun wasn't yet as three flatlanders set out on dawn patrol. Objective: Prospect Mountain, just outside Bennington, VT. They'd gotten over 9 feet of snow in March, and we wanted to get a little gliding in before it all went away.
Driving out of Troy, the fields alongside Route 7 were brown. In Bennington itself, the snow was melting. As the Subaru Motel clawed its way to the top of Bennington Gap (Getting there is its strong suit. Horsepower is not), the snowpack deepened. Up high, winter hadn't gone anywhere yet.
A few minutes after we arrived, a Jeep with Idaho tags rolled into the parking lot. The couple driving it unloaded new Fischer skate skis, and Lars and I said to each other, "Maybe they're reps." "Maybe they can hook us up with new boards!"
As I applied red klister, they mentioned to Lars that they lived in Idaho in the winter, and in the east during summer. They came back east early this year due to the dearth of snow in the west. Then they skated off.
This Saturday was the exception to Lars's rule -- that there's always a cloud over Prospect. Bright sunshine made the temperature feel warmer than 45 - 50 degrees. The snow was a little dirty but there was complete coverage. The trails and the woods were blanketed by a good 4 feet of snow. The famous coat rack was nowhere to be seen. Lars skated off down the old woods road which bisects Prospect's trail system, only to hightail it back when he encountered extremely fresh bear sign. Ellen and I skiied down to the beaver pond, and when we stopped for a moment, I looked up and saw a rainbow around the sun.
About an hour later I encountered the couple from Idaho on top of a hill. We chatted for and they asked me, "Do you know of anyplace north of here that's been below freezing at night?"
I thought for a moment, and suggested they drive up to Stowe. After all, it's only another three hours' drive north of Bennington. We skiied our separate ways.
I'll tell you what: I was dumbfounded. These guys had bailed out of Idaho because there was nothing left there. This was the best winter in the east in years, and it wasn't good enough!! Sure, it was kind of slow going on somewhat soggy snow. By this time last year, however, most people had been running, cycling or paddling for 3 weeks. Life must be awfully tough when 4 feet of base doesn't cut it.
As it happened, down low, it poured down rain on Saturday night. Thunder, lightning, maximal sturm und drang kept us awake in the middle of the night. And wouldn't you know it: up at Prospect, the temperature did fall below freezing, so their trails were covered with an icy crust which Steve the proprietor was breaking up as we arrived on Sunday. All over, tree branches were encased by glassy ice. They hadn't lost an inch of snow. We had awesome, fast conditions under the usual gray sky.
We didn't see the couple from Idaho that day; I couldn't tell you if they went north seeking ideal conditions, or if they bagged it and went home. But there were plenty of people out there enjoying one of the best days of the winter.