The Powder Saga Rages On--December 16 Nor'easter Moves In

Smuggs felt like home today. I ran into Ben Bloom first thing in the upper lot gearing up. There were two people in the lift line when I pulled up...just happened to be two of my good buddies. Lost them first run, oh well. Made a couple solo. Deep, deep powder in the woods. Got stuck. Decided I needed people to ride woods with. Gotta go steep or have someone else's track to help out at times. I just don't carry enough weight to plow through when the pitch lessens.

So I went into the bar to warm up, dry out some gear by the fire and run into someone. Saw many friends and made a couple of new ones. Ripped the top of M1 lift line to Robin's Run. Dropped big, compressed my knee (sore, but useable). Made another run that started at the tippy top of fis, what's that called again? Dipped into some too tight trees, but when it opened up, oh boy! Sick powder, steep chutes...the theme for the rest of the day. Took a break around noon to pop 1000mg of bufferin (thought I was buying ibuprophen one hung over morning on the way to the mtn) and dig out my knee brace. Mmmm...compression, the good kind. I did a few test bends and walked around for a little while, decided I was good to go and headed back out...or rather out back.

The chutes off the pond were still fluffy. Sweet ride down. Perfect turns. The knee worked beautifully. Not last run yet. Hiked out, worm holed, dropped in...soooo steep...soooo much snow...mandatory 8-10 with a stomped and stuck landing (I always nail that one...it's my favorite cliff)...gentle slope the rest of the way to 108, rode it hard and fast. That was it. 3:15 looked like beer-thirty. Cheers to yet another epic December day.

Dropping in on Bolton

We all got ours today. The backcountry was worth the hike in and out...short, but sick powder and steep chutes. There were also some nice drops. I have my eye on some for round two next week.

Motion on Madonna

Day 11, Smuggs

Uh, oh, there's already two other cars in the upper lot. I guess I'll be third chair again today. Maybe one day I'll be early enough for first...Gear up, slide down to the Sterling lift. What's this? No one in line. I did it! Finally, I made first chair! M1 is scehduled to open soon. I'll make one run and head over.

Dip into the woods just before Smuggler's Alley. Steep, silent, solo...shredding powder in the forest forgetting life's, well, everything except my line...focused, in the zone, in the moment...leg's burning but gotta keep on moving toward the fresh lines that lie in wait on Madonna.

Get down, get up. I wonder what those glades off Doc's are like. No time better than the present to find out. The top is soft. That's a good sign. Keep your eyes peeled. Where's the line? Ahhh....there it is, poof...soft and silky...oops, needed more speed, well, a breather's good, too. Get up, get going down the path less traveled where tracks are sparse...so much fresh powder and no one around...nice, wide open lines...sail through smiling and race to the bottom riding hard in the back seat through the pow on a side trail...f the crunchy groomed stuff littered with death cookies...poppin' over water bars, back leg burning. Rest on the lift, baby, there's powder everywhere.

Robin's Run is open. It's hardly ever open. I shout to a patroler..how's Robin's. It's good. Everything's good. It's day one (officially) on Madonna, and there's untouched everywhere. Thank you, hikers/skinners, for leaving some for me. Lift line looks good. I've never done the whole thing. Most, but not the narliest of the headwalls. Always have dipped onto Freefall and hooked back up with it from Drifter. Today it looks doable...I feel confident...today's the day. Man, the view on the way down sure is steeper than on the way up. That's cool...I got it...jump turns galore...no wimping out, take the drops...EXPLODE! Cartwheel...once...twice...gotta stop this...three times...back on my feet..still moving. Can't breathe for a moment. Gasp! There's the air. Don't drown on the snow, Rachel. Pay attention...stop talking to yourself...shut up and ride! My wax is fast today. Hoots and hollers from above. Do I look good? Chicks rip! Uh, oh...drop, explode, cartwheel...gotta stop that...keep going, take it easy? No such thing today. Pound the pow, stomp the landings, stick 'em, ride away (I'm bound to at some point). Dip into more newly advertised glades...two tracks, I make three...keep those knees bent and eyes wide, fresh lines and powder everywhere! Where is everyone? Oh, there's so much mountain to be had! Hey, there's more...Norweigan Woods...reminds me of the Beatles, of my dad, only for a moment. There's no room for thoughts, just ride.

Breathless at the bottom, load up for another. I have a newfound appreciation for the long, slow ride up. Sips of water, a granola bar. At the top, I'm ready again. They've dropped the rope on Drifter. Guess I know where I'm going. Drifter to Three Mountain...pow stashes...back onto the lift line to get the bottom piece I skipped out on last run. No wimping...take the drops, stomp, stick, ride away...I did it! Raise my arms above my head in trimphant glory! Pump my fists! YES!

Meet a friend at the bottom. He's new to the sport, rides blues, parked in the upper lot, needs a guide back to his car. I'll be nice. I slow down to check on him. Whoa, he's right there...slow down, dude, you're gonna miss your turn...I shout..left, left, left! There he goes...missed it. He stops at the top of Exhibition. I eye it. He says he's gonna walk back up to Black Snake. Have fun, dude, just stay left. Secretly, I'm glad. Now I can bomb down the lift line. Knees bent, flying, stick the turns in the puffs of pow...stay left...hit the steeps, the drops...air off waterbars at the bottom. Legs are toast. One more. Should I hike out back? I'm solo and spent so not today. Long, slow cruiser back to the car. When I finally stop, I realize it's snowing...correction, puking...again! Alas, I've had my fill. My legs are noodles. Tomorrow is another day...another powdery promise. I'll keep my end of the bargain. See ya' for first chair. Thank you, mountain. Thank you, Mama Nature.

Return of the Fluff

Day 9- Powder...mmmm



The pic is the scene as you look out from the lean to beyond the bullwheel.


I didn't getup to the mountain (Smuggs) until around noon as the wind howling outside my door was not encouraging. Turns out four hours were all my legs could take after pounding hard Saturday and hittin' the hill again Sunday. Man, what a day. Unbelievable for December 4! All the woods were wide open. The rock wall on Full Nelson was totally gone, though the drop/launch was significant and tons of fun. I got fresh all the way down! The pitch on Full Nelson was perfect for the sort of heavy snow we had. Ripped down! Got fresh all through the Deer Run Glades, the Boneyard, and a few places I'm hesitant to divulge. The best though was face shots in the Birthday Bowl. It was a little wet getting in near the pond, and I had to pause and scrape ice off my board. (I know there's another way, but not too sure about finding it on my own yet, so I went out the pond way.) Anyway...it was totally worth it! I hit all my favorite steep, tight chutes. That's where the face shots came in to play. Wow! We seem to have picked up right where we left off!

A Day at Castlerock

Day 3; November 18, 2007; Castlerock at Lincoln Peak

I went to Sugarbush with Kristian. We took the Heaven's Gate chair to the top of Lincoln Peak, and then hopped on the Long Trail. We hiked about a mile over to Castlerock where the lifts weren't turning and the turns were fresh.

We rode Middle Earth down to Troll Road and hiked back up. Nobody had gone down Middle Earth after us, so we hit it again. Then we made a couple of lift serve runs since we had the pass...a fast cruiser down Jester and a bump run down Organgrinder to get to some poachable powder on Spillsville.

Apre was well earned.

Poetry of Hiking Solo

Day 2; November 17, 2007; Bolton Valley

8:30am…I hiked solo. I think I’m the first to summit the quad today. There’s 8 inches to a foot and a half of nicely wind-packed powder. It’s windy at the top…howling!


Wandering upon wind carved ridges and valleys
Silent-only the rhythm of walking
Plant, step, plant step
Steeper
Plant, plant, step, step
Looking back I notice my single track boot pack
It’s a nice line
Now though…
I’m loving the sofa in the ski patrol summit shack.

Earning the Early Turns

Day 1, 6:30am, November 10, 2007, Sterling Mountain

Ah…The first day of a new season. It’s like a rebirth...a renaissance.

I was so psyched that I had trouble getting to sleep. I was late to bed anyway because somehow over the summer I forgot how to pack my winter pack. I laid in bed with visions of deep pow dancing in my head.

Of course, I knew the turns weren’t going to be epic. It was the first day…thin pickin’s. Plus I was coming off an injury, a badly sprained ankle acquired while mountain biking over the summer. I hiked slowly, but made it to the top by 9:00. We hung out in Top Notch, snacked, geared up and headed out to ride Smuggler’s Alley, a steep diamond all the way to skier’s right.

How was it? There were 8 inches to a foot at the top. The first ten turns were creamy and smooth as butter. Then I continued my descent amidst rocks, sticks, grass, and ice and loved every minute of it. At one point there were these crazy ice stalagmites rising from the trail in front of me. Art…ice sculptures. Finally I made my way to some nicer snow to conclude my first run of the season. I found my center beneath the heavy pack, got my tired legs firmly under me, and carved those last ten turns into extremely edgeable hard pack. (Thank you to my friend, Tim, who hooked up my edges at the end of last winter.) It was a solid finish.

Soaking wet from the snow guns and running late for physical therapy, I slapped the boys five for a good day on the hill, the first of many.

Gear Up, Girls!

There’s a handful of us out there. We do not often cross paths. Though we usually don’t run into anyone where we play. We will go to great lengths for first tracks and fresh, fluffy turns. We are more at home in the middle of the wilderness than in a shopping mall. Most of our friends are guys because they, too, prefer mountains to makeup and, well…let’s face it, most of the other women just don’t keep up.

That’s right, sistas, you know who you are. We’re typically small in stature, but mighty in spirit. We come from a variety of backgrounds and all have a different story. Some of us grew up in the mountains skiing, hiking, or climbing. Others never slid on waxed boards until adulthood. Some of us are native Vermonters. Others hail from far away, of maybe just a couple of hours. Some of us have kids and a family. Others fly solo. Whatever your deal is, we all have two things in common. We’ll gladly earn our turns. We’d also all like to see better representation of the female athletes in our sports of choice.

So here is a call to all you hardcore women out there. If you prefer to see the sunrise on the weekend than to sleep until it warms up a little outside…If you think an hour in the pow is worth donning a headlamp for a 6 am start time on a two hour hike…If you are more comfortable humping a pack around than a purse…Let’s get together. Women of Wilderness (WOW!) let’s get it on up in the hills. It’s time we made ourselves known (if only to each other) as a formidable force rather than the exception to the rule. Ready for adventure?