Lo, these many years later

Trying hard to be true to my days off, something about which I had gotten rather lax and it was beginning to take its toll, today I did something totally non-church related: I went skiing. Not only that, I went to Mad River Glen for the first time in 35 years. My father doesn't remember too much of our weekend skiing at Mad River other than his refusing alcohol for me (I was in ninth grade) and making sure that everyone knew I was his daughter, thank you very much, but I remember that it poured rain to the point that the lift attendants gave everyone army-issue ponchos to wear on the way up on the single chair. I also remember it was the first time skiing in my first pair of plastic boots with metal buckles unlike my double lace-up boots and I couldn't horse my way around on the skis the way I had been able to previously.

So, for today, thirty-five years later. Driving over on a dirt road was more dicey than I liked, almost white knuckle driving because the road surface was so squirrely underneath. It was either mud or snow or even some ice. The only good moment of the drive was that first view of Camel's Hump as I came down into the Mad River Valley from my valley, on the other side of a mountain ridge. The road was way too steep here for me to get out of the car to get the photo so I zoomed in on Camel's Hump and shot it from inside the car.

One of the whole points of this little adventure (not really far away, about 25 miles but with the drive, more like 40 minutes) was to go up the old single chairlift that has been operating since 1944. It's an old diesel thing that still runs but at the end of this season, the old chairs are being taken down, auctioned off, and the whole thing is going to be restored (to the tune of $1.5 million of which they have currently raised $900K). I wanted to say that I rode the same lift I did 35 years ago and that my father had ridden many years prior to that. The thing seems to run smoothly; it doesn't reek of diesel but for whatever reason, they are going to restore it.

I remember being somewhat terrified 35 years ago as I rode up this lift with its dinky little safety bar and footrest but I think it's because we were skiing in pea soup fog, I had never been to the area before, I couldn't judge how high up in the air we were and so forth. Today I still found myself hugging the main support for the chair but found the safety bar and footrest adequate. This said, some poor soul fell out of his chair at the point where the chair in the photo is; he gamely got up and got back in line but he had to be hurting some.

This is looking up the liftline barely a third of the way up. A few things about Mad River Glen that make it unusual are that, first, they don't allow snowboards (which enables people like myself who ski on 191 cm skis a fighting chance of getting down the mountain), and second, anything is fair game for skiing. So, if you like skiing over rocks, stumps, trees and ice, go for it. If this part of the liftline grabs you, do it. It feels somewhat like anarchy but it seems to have worked for all these years. Maybe that's why their moto is: Mad River Glen: Ski it if you can.

The day started out sunny and clear with great views. This is looking north, toward Camel's Hump and Mount Mansfield.

Coming down Antelope, I think (since I don't ski with bifocals, I can't read the trail map and just go), looking toward Camel's Hump which is to the left of the pine tree that is sticking up in the middle of the photo). One thing I appreciate at Mad River is that an intermediate trail is a real advanced intermediate and not some super-groomed cruiser.

Even though this was my first time out this year, I decided to do a glade trail while my legs were still fresh, so on my first run, I went down this glade. The snow was surprisingly powdery and pleasant. While my form left much to be desired, it wasn't a total disaster. I didn't run into any trees and got down the thing in once piece and kind of credibly. The moguls were not super carved out; they were manageable. But, this was a true thigh-burner: a lot of jumping around so that my thighs were tired afterwards (and still are — it's a different muscle group than rowing).

I am not sure if this chair was at Mad River when my father and I skiied there so many years ago. It's a double and takes one off to the middle of the mountain. Way off to the right is an area called 'Birdland,' which seems to be the beginners' area but it was closed. So I came down a trail called 'Quack' which was fun enough.

My legs are tired late at night but it was so good to be outdoors. Compa and I will ski on Wednesday because Thursday and Friday it is supposed to rain.

I did find myself a bit teary at one point of the day when I realised that my father and I probably will never again ski together. Oh, he may surprise me but I think he has put away his skis for good. That's a hard one to swallow but I think I speak a truth that I don't want to acknowledge.