It had been four (okay, more like eight) years since I had seen a Warren Miller movie in the theatre, but last Wednesday my ski house friends and I revived an old tradition and trekked to Somerville to see Warren Miller's Flow State. I have two things to report:
1) The Somerville Theatre now serves beer.
2) See Flow State - in the theatre if you can.
I should note that I did not have a beer at the theatre, so #2 is not a response to #1. You know how Warren Miller movies go - sometimes there is too much snowboarding, too many "funny" segments, too much blatant advertising (cue the painful 1990s installations that featured Nissan SUVs all too prominently). The only complaint I have about Flow State is: where is Warren Miller?!
At dinner (at Pizzeria Posto, which is beyond worth visiting if you live in the Davis Square part of the world), one friend asked, "Warren Miller: Dead or Alive?" We all vigorously affirmed that Warren Miller is still living. But then, Flow State without a single appearance or word from The Man. Not even, "if you don't do it this year..." No corny jokes. No plugs for the private resort where he is ambassador. Is he okay? Is he skiing that amazing powder field that I expect to be waiting in Heaven if I ever make it there?
Unclear. But what I can tell you is that Flow State has some fantastic footage, even better skiing, and pays great homage to the 10th Mountain Division. Loved seeing pro skiers fall down on the 7 foot skis that the 10th Mtn division skied on day in and day out. It reminded me of me on cross country skis - like a bag of elbows and knees falling all over the place just trying to turn or slow down on a slight incline.
My favorite parts of the movie by far were the scenes in Japan - tons of powder, trees at insane speeds - and in Murren, Switzerland. If there is a more beautiful place on earth than the Alps, I should definitely see it. And there was even tree skiing in the Swiss scenes - and it looked like you would expect - like Hansel and Gretel went skiing in a giant enchanted forest covered in thick, fluffy snow.
I now have to dream about skiing in Japan in a hundred inches of powder followed by sake and sushi...sort of like a trip to Aspen when my friends and I kept eating at the bar at Matsuhisu every night because we couldn't bear the thought of any other food while Nobu's sublime hamachi was available to us.
And now, back to reality.
The good news? Sugarbush is open, and I am heading there this Friday. The bad news? I have a lot of work to do between now and then. And even more to do afterward. So my installments here might be spotty, but I'll do my best to include a review of hitting the slopes (or single open trail) right after Thanksgiving, and will write about my first ski instructor training classes, which I hope to attend this weekend.
I can't wait to be a ski student again!
In the mean time, see Flow State, and Think Snow.
Monday, November 19, 2012
Tuesday, November 6, 2012
If The Boot Fits, Buy It
I learned quite a bit this weekend. First of all, I learned that the best teacher I've ever had (Kevin Mattingly, that's you) was right: there ain't no such thing as a free lunch. Or skis. And second, I learned that my ski boots don't fit me.
Apparently it was a mistake to let one of my former law students fit me for boots (and then give me a fantastic deal on them). Because I've been skiing, for six years, in ski boots that are a size too big for me. Don't get me wrong - most girls are thrilled when something is too big on them. But ski boots do not fall into that category.
In the market for boots? I actually didn't think I was, either. But if you are, or think there's a chance that you might be, go to a pro.
I went to Alpine Options in Warren, Vermont, on the Sugarbush Access Road. http://www.alpineoptions.com/
At Alpine Options, Steve spent about an hour (which was extremely nice since I arrived 45 minutes before closing time on a Saturday) with me and my feet and my old boots. Here are some things that I learned:
1) Start with a professional sizing. I assumed I was a 25.5 (I wear an 8.5 shoe) and was pretty much all set to buy boots on eBay. I'm a 24.5. And bring your old boots with you.
2) Work with a professional who knows boots and how to fit them, not just the guy who usually works in fishing gear who you pull over to the ski stuff because no one else is helping you.
3) If boots fit properly, you should not need to tighten the buckles to their tightest setting (and then undo them for the chair ride). This is what I have been doing pretty much my whole skiing life. I have actually perfected a move where I can unzip the sides of my ski pants and undo my boot buckles while still skiing into the lift line. The reason I needed to do this was that my boots were too big...and in clamping those buckles on their tightest setting, I was cutting off two nerves to my feet. The result? Completely numb toes after a tough run. If you had asked me I would have told you that my boots were probably too small.
Au contraire, mon frere. They were too big. Therefore, I felt the need to tighten the buckles across my forefoot. Bad idea. That's what was making my feet numb.
4) Boots should fit snugly around your heel, and you should have very good contact in the front where your foot meets your ankle. I have a pretty high arch and small ankles, but I don't have a narrow foot. The boots that work best for me are apparently Atomics (so much for those Rossignols I was thinking about).
5) When the boot does fit, you'll know it. At Alpine Options, they have a ski simulator, which helped. But really, I could tell just standing there (well, flexing into a skiing stance while standing there). And when I took them off, there were no red marks in the places that my boots left bruises.
6) Custom footbeds are worth it. I had a pair made a LONG time ago (see my last post) and although they would make some cash off of me if they recommended new ones, the nice guys at Alpine Options thought that mine looked just fine. I think I paid $50 for them in like 1998. Totally worth it. (they're more now like everything else).
So that deal on eBay? Skip it. Unless you had the perfect pair of boots and lost one, you're better off spending the money to get a great fit and consultation.
As my mother once said when I balked at spending $100 on a pillow, "Lisa. You put your head on it every night."
Mom always knows best. And this Mom says, you'll be on your feet all day, every day that you are on skis. Save on something else, but spend on your boots.
Apparently it was a mistake to let one of my former law students fit me for boots (and then give me a fantastic deal on them). Because I've been skiing, for six years, in ski boots that are a size too big for me. Don't get me wrong - most girls are thrilled when something is too big on them. But ski boots do not fall into that category.
In the market for boots? I actually didn't think I was, either. But if you are, or think there's a chance that you might be, go to a pro.
I went to Alpine Options in Warren, Vermont, on the Sugarbush Access Road. http://www.alpineoptions.com/
At Alpine Options, Steve spent about an hour (which was extremely nice since I arrived 45 minutes before closing time on a Saturday) with me and my feet and my old boots. Here are some things that I learned:
1) Start with a professional sizing. I assumed I was a 25.5 (I wear an 8.5 shoe) and was pretty much all set to buy boots on eBay. I'm a 24.5. And bring your old boots with you.
2) Work with a professional who knows boots and how to fit them, not just the guy who usually works in fishing gear who you pull over to the ski stuff because no one else is helping you.
3) If boots fit properly, you should not need to tighten the buckles to their tightest setting (and then undo them for the chair ride). This is what I have been doing pretty much my whole skiing life. I have actually perfected a move where I can unzip the sides of my ski pants and undo my boot buckles while still skiing into the lift line. The reason I needed to do this was that my boots were too big...and in clamping those buckles on their tightest setting, I was cutting off two nerves to my feet. The result? Completely numb toes after a tough run. If you had asked me I would have told you that my boots were probably too small.
Au contraire, mon frere. They were too big. Therefore, I felt the need to tighten the buckles across my forefoot. Bad idea. That's what was making my feet numb.
4) Boots should fit snugly around your heel, and you should have very good contact in the front where your foot meets your ankle. I have a pretty high arch and small ankles, but I don't have a narrow foot. The boots that work best for me are apparently Atomics (so much for those Rossignols I was thinking about).
5) When the boot does fit, you'll know it. At Alpine Options, they have a ski simulator, which helped. But really, I could tell just standing there (well, flexing into a skiing stance while standing there). And when I took them off, there were no red marks in the places that my boots left bruises.
6) Custom footbeds are worth it. I had a pair made a LONG time ago (see my last post) and although they would make some cash off of me if they recommended new ones, the nice guys at Alpine Options thought that mine looked just fine. I think I paid $50 for them in like 1998. Totally worth it. (they're more now like everything else).
So that deal on eBay? Skip it. Unless you had the perfect pair of boots and lost one, you're better off spending the money to get a great fit and consultation.
As my mother once said when I balked at spending $100 on a pillow, "Lisa. You put your head on it every night."
Mom always knows best. And this Mom says, you'll be on your feet all day, every day that you are on skis. Save on something else, but spend on your boots.
Friday, November 2, 2012
Women's Skis and Boots: Reviews and Plans
I'm about as excited for this weekend as my kids were for halloween. Sugarbush has very kindly arranged for a few gear companies to give the ski and ride staff a preview of 2012's new toys, and because not even my husband is allowed in with me, I'm going to write about what I see.
I used to have a daydream that I was locked in a toy store overnight. I'd play with every toy my mother never let me have - all of the video games, the mini kid's Jeeps that drove "like a real car," those sneakers that were really roller skates, and every last Barbie. Clearly, I had this daydream when I was about 10.
These days, I dream of a week of skiing with unlimited access to every last boot, ski, helmet, goggle, jacket and pant on the market.
What am I dreaming of making a skiing reality this year? Well, the nice folks (sorry, during this election season I really, really hate the word "folks") from Rossignol and Volkl are going to be at the party tomorrow, and I cannot wait to eye the candy.
I have never met a Volkl I didn't like. And I can't wait to meet the Aura, Mantra, Kendo and particularly, the Bridge. I have it from a very, very good source (my friend Trecker, who is a great skier and an engineer, and who is pretty ski gear obsessed) that the Bridge will be my new BFF. According to him, the Bridge is fantastic and quick in the bumps, super responsive in tight woods (is there any other kind of tree skiing in Vermont?) and yet they manage to hold their edge on icy steeps. He said he took them out on two days last year (the 2012 Bridge is apparently a repainted 2011) - the first was mashed potatoes, and the second was frozen mashed potato crud. Ahh, ski the east. Trecker said they were great on both days. Now that, my friends, is an all-mountain ski. Here's a review from the pros:
http://freeskier.com/gear/products/category/all-mountain-skis
I'm also in the market for new boots. Mine are fine - albeit held together with duct tape (really - I'll take a picture at some point). But like all things these days, I feel like I "just" got them, when in fact, I think I've had them for at least eight years. So here is what I can't wait to get my hands on and feet into:
The Rossignol Electra Pro Sensor 110. While I think ski boot manufacturers need to simplify their ski boot names, this boot sounds great. I have a very high arch/instep, and I tend to get terrible boot bang on the top bone in my foot. In fact, in the (painful) Lange Pink Panther years, my right foot came out of the boot bloody more than once.
Here's a picture of my feet so you can see the bone/bump on the top - which I took this summer on day when I wore two different shoes for three hours before I noticed. What? Yeah? Have twin boys and call me.
Here is a review of the Rossignol Electra Pros:
http://www.skinet.com/ski/gear/rossignol-electra-pro-sensor-inside-110-2012
Hopefully, no more bloody feet. And by the way, if you are new to the boot game, and have feet that are weird at all (and let's face, it, all feet are weird), custom footbeds could change your life. I skied into a boot fitter in Vail about 15 years ago literally in tears. Luckily, I knew the guy working there (thank you, Todd, you changed my skiing life) and when he pulled the footbed out of my boot, he said, "This is why you are crying." Trust me, I'm not a crying kind of girl.
The footbed looked brand new everywhere - except for under the ball of my foot. There, it was so paper thin that I could see through it. "You are skiing with 99% of your weight in one small spot - it's like you've been skiing in four inch heels," he said. Now, I am extremely partial to very high heels, but I not only would never ski in them, I barely like to walk in them (I have several pairs of shoes that are known as Valet Only because I am not walking further than curb to table in them).
Todd built me a custom footbed, and although I've cried since that day, it was mostly due to guys like J--- May He Be Hit By A Bus (name changed to protect that not at all innocent). But, as usual, I digress.
Gear party, here I come. I'll be the loser waiting at the door before it opens.
No snow yet, so unfortunately, I won't be taking anything for a test drive. But I'll let you know what I learn.
I used to have a daydream that I was locked in a toy store overnight. I'd play with every toy my mother never let me have - all of the video games, the mini kid's Jeeps that drove "like a real car," those sneakers that were really roller skates, and every last Barbie. Clearly, I had this daydream when I was about 10.
These days, I dream of a week of skiing with unlimited access to every last boot, ski, helmet, goggle, jacket and pant on the market.
What am I dreaming of making a skiing reality this year? Well, the nice folks (sorry, during this election season I really, really hate the word "folks") from Rossignol and Volkl are going to be at the party tomorrow, and I cannot wait to eye the candy.
I have never met a Volkl I didn't like. And I can't wait to meet the Aura, Mantra, Kendo and particularly, the Bridge. I have it from a very, very good source (my friend Trecker, who is a great skier and an engineer, and who is pretty ski gear obsessed) that the Bridge will be my new BFF. According to him, the Bridge is fantastic and quick in the bumps, super responsive in tight woods (is there any other kind of tree skiing in Vermont?) and yet they manage to hold their edge on icy steeps. He said he took them out on two days last year (the 2012 Bridge is apparently a repainted 2011) - the first was mashed potatoes, and the second was frozen mashed potato crud. Ahh, ski the east. Trecker said they were great on both days. Now that, my friends, is an all-mountain ski. Here's a review from the pros:
http://freeskier.com/gear/products/category/all-mountain-skis
I'm also in the market for new boots. Mine are fine - albeit held together with duct tape (really - I'll take a picture at some point). But like all things these days, I feel like I "just" got them, when in fact, I think I've had them for at least eight years. So here is what I can't wait to get my hands on and feet into:
The Rossignol Electra Pro Sensor 110. While I think ski boot manufacturers need to simplify their ski boot names, this boot sounds great. I have a very high arch/instep, and I tend to get terrible boot bang on the top bone in my foot. In fact, in the (painful) Lange Pink Panther years, my right foot came out of the boot bloody more than once.
Here's a picture of my feet so you can see the bone/bump on the top - which I took this summer on day when I wore two different shoes for three hours before I noticed. What? Yeah? Have twin boys and call me.
Here is a review of the Rossignol Electra Pros:
http://www.skinet.com/ski/gear/rossignol-electra-pro-sensor-inside-110-2012
Hopefully, no more bloody feet. And by the way, if you are new to the boot game, and have feet that are weird at all (and let's face, it, all feet are weird), custom footbeds could change your life. I skied into a boot fitter in Vail about 15 years ago literally in tears. Luckily, I knew the guy working there (thank you, Todd, you changed my skiing life) and when he pulled the footbed out of my boot, he said, "This is why you are crying." Trust me, I'm not a crying kind of girl.
The footbed looked brand new everywhere - except for under the ball of my foot. There, it was so paper thin that I could see through it. "You are skiing with 99% of your weight in one small spot - it's like you've been skiing in four inch heels," he said. Now, I am extremely partial to very high heels, but I not only would never ski in them, I barely like to walk in them (I have several pairs of shoes that are known as Valet Only because I am not walking further than curb to table in them).
Todd built me a custom footbed, and although I've cried since that day, it was mostly due to guys like J--- May He Be Hit By A Bus (name changed to protect that not at all innocent). But, as usual, I digress.
Gear party, here I come. I'll be the loser waiting at the door before it opens.
No snow yet, so unfortunately, I won't be taking anything for a test drive. But I'll let you know what I learn.
Thursday, November 1, 2012
Weather Obsessed
When I was in high school, my great-uncle Bill would watch The Weather Channel 24/7. If there was a 2% chance of precipitation, Uncle Bill knew about it. He (God Rest his Soul - as my grandmother would have said) was worried about getting out and getting to church on a daily basis, and about whether my grandmother would need a heavier coat when he picked her up (she always needed a heavier coat).
Over the past ten years, I have developed an Uncle Bill-like obsession with weather. It will not surprise those of you who know me, however, that my obsession has nothing to do with getting out and getting to church. It has to do with skiing.
Like a farmer, I watch the weather during the growing and harvesting season for skiing: late fall through spring. I watch the weather on television (I'm partial to Matt Noyes and the weather team at NECN - I have yet to have Matt steer me wrong), check it obsessively on line (in this blog I will frequently - with his permission - summarize Josh Fox's Single Chair Weather Blog) and look at the TWC app on my phone about every twenty minutes. Because, hey, you never know. The Higher Summits forecast might have Sugarbush getting 3 inches of snow when the valley forecast has it getting only an inch. When we wake up at my ski condo, two things are usually happening: coffee is brewing, and the local ski channel is on with the weather report.
I sleep better with a sound machine - unless it's set to the rain storm setting. Like Pavlov's dog, the sound of rain gets an immediate reaction from me: it reminds me of snow melting at a rate 10 times faster than it does in the sun, and creates stress - not what you want when you are trying to fall asleep.
At this time of year, there isn't much out there about ski season weather. I have to reduce myself to discussions of acorns (more means a snowy winter), hornet's nests (the higher up they make them, the better - check out Win's Word: http://www.sugarbush.com/blogs/wins-word/farmers-almanac-on-our-side-208 ), and what the Farmer's Almanac has to say. With some friends who are equally weird, I can talk about things like El Nino, whether my right knee hurting means it's going to snow, or the fact that warmer weather early in the season isn't necessarily a bad thing because Lake Champlain won't freeze, which can really seed the snow clouds - you know, typical cocktail party conversation.
If you're someone who is interested in those conversations, stay tuned. I'm doing research right now, and will be back with some ski season 2012-2013 predictions. In the mean time, check out Tim Kelley - his video ski and surf reports for skitheeast.net are great:
http://www.skitheeast.net/posts/id/1503050609/tim-kelleys-post-sandy-snowcast
And besides, I like any man who talks about skiing while surfing.
Over the past ten years, I have developed an Uncle Bill-like obsession with weather. It will not surprise those of you who know me, however, that my obsession has nothing to do with getting out and getting to church. It has to do with skiing.
Like a farmer, I watch the weather during the growing and harvesting season for skiing: late fall through spring. I watch the weather on television (I'm partial to Matt Noyes and the weather team at NECN - I have yet to have Matt steer me wrong), check it obsessively on line (in this blog I will frequently - with his permission - summarize Josh Fox's Single Chair Weather Blog) and look at the TWC app on my phone about every twenty minutes. Because, hey, you never know. The Higher Summits forecast might have Sugarbush getting 3 inches of snow when the valley forecast has it getting only an inch. When we wake up at my ski condo, two things are usually happening: coffee is brewing, and the local ski channel is on with the weather report.
I sleep better with a sound machine - unless it's set to the rain storm setting. Like Pavlov's dog, the sound of rain gets an immediate reaction from me: it reminds me of snow melting at a rate 10 times faster than it does in the sun, and creates stress - not what you want when you are trying to fall asleep.
If you're someone who is interested in those conversations, stay tuned. I'm doing research right now, and will be back with some ski season 2012-2013 predictions. In the mean time, check out Tim Kelley - his video ski and surf reports for skitheeast.net are great:
http://www.skitheeast.net/posts/id/1503050609/tim-kelleys-post-sandy-snowcast
And besides, I like any man who talks about skiing while surfing.
Wednesday, October 31, 2012
If You Don't Do It This Year...
...you'll just be one year older when you do.
After decades of hearing it, I have finally decided to heed Mr. Warren Miller's advice. For those of you who don't obsessively watch Warren Miller movies on Encore (or the VCR that you've kept just for that purpose) in August (and the other 11 months of the year), at the end of each of his skiing and riding movies, Warren Miller signs off with: "If you don't do it this year, you'll just be one year older when you do." I started considering this advice when I was about 22 years old. I've finally heeded it as a 42 year old.
Slow learner.
For years, this sign-off gave me a pulling feeling in the stomach. To me, it meant that I was one year older, and no closer to living in a ski town in the Rockies. I once told a good friend who grew up in Colorado that every time I got on the plane in Denver to fly home to Boston, I would cry at takeoff. He looked at me like I was nuts. "Um, do you think maybe you should move here?" he asked.
Yes, I do.
The problem for me is that there is one thing I love more than skiing, and being in the mountains: my family. And they live in Massachusetts. I have finally admitted it: They are never moving.
In 1999, I made the crazy decision to buy my second home first. I'd been renting a ski-season house at Sugarbush in Vermont with a group of friends for years. One day in the lodge I saw an ad for condos that were for sale on the mountain. They started at $20,000 - not much more than we were paying for a single season in our house. I called a realtor the next day.
At the time, I was working as a well-paid (slave) corporate attorney at a big law firm in Boston. Several of the attorneys - including (although I didn't know it at the time) the managing partner of the firm - spent every weekend at Sugarbush. It was the perfect escape from the stress and drudgery of corporate law firm life, and I quickly learned the code among the associates at my firm: What happens at the Bush, stays at the Bush.
I wanted in.
I decided to work as hard as I possibly could, and to earn a bonus that could make this crazy idea a reality. I'd stay in my run-down apartment in Jamaica Plain, and buy a ski condo. It was easily one of the best decisions I've ever made.
I had no idea how lucky I was when Win Smith and his partners bought the mountain. As a skier who - until I had twins in 2009 - did my best to ski at least 50 days a season at Sugarbush, I was thrilled that Win understood that "family friendly" does not mean "Groom every trail within an inch of its life, destroy all advanced terrain except a token few trails to make people feel cool, close all woods skiing, add high speed heated quads to every part of the mountain, and advertise as much as possible in New York City."
A completely new and amazingly-designed base with lodges, restaurants, bars, ski school(s), condos, and a hotel have blossomed at Sugarbush in the past few years. The vibe is skier-friendly, and the owners clearly Get It. While we're skiing, we don't want to be comfortable. When Mother Nature gives us the rare gift of powder on a nice base, we want to hit that spot in the woods we've been eyeing without fear of losing our season pass. We want to ski Castlerock without any grooming, and without having to stand in line listening to a bunch of idiots in $5000 Bogner outfits for whom skiing is just another way to show off gadgets and gear.
But we'll admit it. When we finish a day on the Rock, we want to sit in a comfortable and nice lodge with a nice (and big enough) bar, and a fire outside, with a good meal in store. We want to be able to take our kids to a great ski school where they'll have as much fun inside as they do outside. And we know that if we have any hope of skiing at Christmas (or at any time in a year like 2012) we'll need some snowmaking.
Thank you, Sugarbush, for understanding all of this.
So what have I decided to do? At the risk of ruining it all - my passionate love for Sugarbush, my appreciation for its owners, the fact that my blood pressure drops instantaneously when I cross the Roxbury Gap - I am going to start working as a ski instructor.
My plan for this blog is to teach you what I learn in the process, and to give you a place to check for weather updates and gear news when you have exhausted every other possible website and blog in a quest to transport yourself from Monday at your desk to Saturday on the snow.
Welcome. And remember: if you don't do it this year?
You'll just be one year older when you do.
After decades of hearing it, I have finally decided to heed Mr. Warren Miller's advice. For those of you who don't obsessively watch Warren Miller movies on Encore (or the VCR that you've kept just for that purpose) in August (and the other 11 months of the year), at the end of each of his skiing and riding movies, Warren Miller signs off with: "If you don't do it this year, you'll just be one year older when you do." I started considering this advice when I was about 22 years old. I've finally heeded it as a 42 year old.
Slow learner.
For years, this sign-off gave me a pulling feeling in the stomach. To me, it meant that I was one year older, and no closer to living in a ski town in the Rockies. I once told a good friend who grew up in Colorado that every time I got on the plane in Denver to fly home to Boston, I would cry at takeoff. He looked at me like I was nuts. "Um, do you think maybe you should move here?" he asked.
Yes, I do.
The problem for me is that there is one thing I love more than skiing, and being in the mountains: my family. And they live in Massachusetts. I have finally admitted it: They are never moving.
In 1999, I made the crazy decision to buy my second home first. I'd been renting a ski-season house at Sugarbush in Vermont with a group of friends for years. One day in the lodge I saw an ad for condos that were for sale on the mountain. They started at $20,000 - not much more than we were paying for a single season in our house. I called a realtor the next day.
At the time, I was working as a well-paid (slave) corporate attorney at a big law firm in Boston. Several of the attorneys - including (although I didn't know it at the time) the managing partner of the firm - spent every weekend at Sugarbush. It was the perfect escape from the stress and drudgery of corporate law firm life, and I quickly learned the code among the associates at my firm: What happens at the Bush, stays at the Bush.
I wanted in.
I decided to work as hard as I possibly could, and to earn a bonus that could make this crazy idea a reality. I'd stay in my run-down apartment in Jamaica Plain, and buy a ski condo. It was easily one of the best decisions I've ever made.
I had no idea how lucky I was when Win Smith and his partners bought the mountain. As a skier who - until I had twins in 2009 - did my best to ski at least 50 days a season at Sugarbush, I was thrilled that Win understood that "family friendly" does not mean "Groom every trail within an inch of its life, destroy all advanced terrain except a token few trails to make people feel cool, close all woods skiing, add high speed heated quads to every part of the mountain, and advertise as much as possible in New York City."
A completely new and amazingly-designed base with lodges, restaurants, bars, ski school(s), condos, and a hotel have blossomed at Sugarbush in the past few years. The vibe is skier-friendly, and the owners clearly Get It. While we're skiing, we don't want to be comfortable. When Mother Nature gives us the rare gift of powder on a nice base, we want to hit that spot in the woods we've been eyeing without fear of losing our season pass. We want to ski Castlerock without any grooming, and without having to stand in line listening to a bunch of idiots in $5000 Bogner outfits for whom skiing is just another way to show off gadgets and gear.
But we'll admit it. When we finish a day on the Rock, we want to sit in a comfortable and nice lodge with a nice (and big enough) bar, and a fire outside, with a good meal in store. We want to be able to take our kids to a great ski school where they'll have as much fun inside as they do outside. And we know that if we have any hope of skiing at Christmas (or at any time in a year like 2012) we'll need some snowmaking.
Thank you, Sugarbush, for understanding all of this.
So what have I decided to do? At the risk of ruining it all - my passionate love for Sugarbush, my appreciation for its owners, the fact that my blood pressure drops instantaneously when I cross the Roxbury Gap - I am going to start working as a ski instructor.
My plan for this blog is to teach you what I learn in the process, and to give you a place to check for weather updates and gear news when you have exhausted every other possible website and blog in a quest to transport yourself from Monday at your desk to Saturday on the snow.
Welcome. And remember: if you don't do it this year?
You'll just be one year older when you do.
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