Freedom
1.20.04 - Snow is an incredibly pleasing component of the winter season. It whitens our Christmas morning, closes school for hopeful youngsters, and opens the doors of a winter sports world that flourishes in its existence. Jay Peak 2003/2004 has taught me something else about snow. It seldom comes alone. There exists an evil so great that even Billy S, the leader of the Northeast Kingdom, has no weapon powerful enough to combat this force. Not a triple, nor a quad (not even a high-speed one), nor the almighty tram, could overcome this great threat to skiing as we know it.
Our snow at Jay is deathly afraid of this mountain foe. When it draws near, the winter whitener retreats to places like Timbuktu and Hell's Woods. These tree networks offer some relief and keep even the fluffiest powder protected in perfectly preserved stashes. The glades, however, can only provide temporary relief. Unrelenting in its pursuit, this adversary scours the wide-open birch, pine, and oak trees for days at a time looking for an innocent victim. It is the beating that takes place that frightens me the most. Pounding and flattening with hurricane force, our majestic snowflakes never stand a chance.
On Monday morning, facing our 4th day of the still young season, on which the chairlifts did not spin, we had had enough. Armed with skis, boards, snowshoes, backpacks, and every piece of clothing available for the 5-degree temps, Albro, Craig, Gerlt, James, Stu, and I put aside our Patriot hangovers and marched straight into the heart of our great mountain opponent. Our path started on Angel's Wiggle and moved up through Hell's Crossing. If you'd asked the six of us, we began at Camp 4 on Mt. Everest, climbed the Hillary Step, and made an eager sprint to the summit. During the climb, our rival battered and beat us, tore at our expedition shells, and attempted to steal the skis right off our backs. Visibility varied from 200 feet to 2 feet and ice tore at our faces like an old Mach 3 razor. But nothing would stop our group, for we knew our beloved snow was waiting for rescue.
Upon reaching our summit, we discovered fellow Jay rippers Chaz and Rich had taken to the cruel elements as well. I likened it to Braveheart: Scotsman coming out in droves to join the army in an epic battle for freedom. Armed like warrior-poets, we tore into the forest and rescued our snow. A magical union between the powder and us took place as we floated to freedom. Turn after turn produced bigger and bigger smiles, some of which were filled with our fluffy friend. Cutting through the untouched snow, I could here it whisper "thank you" for not yielding to the nearly unbearable conditions created by our mutual adversary. My response to this gratitude, "It was my pleasure."
And the next time the hated wind tries to ruin another ski day, my fellow Scots and I will be armed and ready to fight.
~BP
Champagne On New Year's Eve - Utah Style
01.12.04
- One of the first indications that we had made the best decision for
being in the right place for New Year's since the '95 MSG show was when
we were on Park City's Town lift, heading up the Western side of this classic
Utah Ski Resort, and my brother and I looked down beneath our freshly
waxed dangling skis and heard...nothing. Below us, hotshots floated down
the black diamond trail, Widowmaker, kicking up nothing but the purest
champagne powder I had ever laid eyes on and they were not making a sound.
The snow was too deep!
01.05.04
- The FC staff (equipped with new digital cameras, wide-angle lenses,
printers, snowboards, two-way radios, etc.) charged up to Jay Peak to
ring in the New Year. We had everything from Grandma’s Lasagna to
Theo’s Spanakopita and enough beer to wash down anything in between.
Only one problem: no snow. The warming trend over the last week saw periods
of fog, rain, and freezing rain effectively ruining the mountain for any
off-piste travelers.
6th Chair, 1st
Chair, 1st Tram...
A Great Day
12.27.03
- Kamm, Stu, and I loaded onto the Jay Peak Jet Triple at 8:00am under
clear blue skies. We spent the next ten minutes debating whether the new
6”-12” beneath the chair was deep fluffy powder or frozen
hard pack ice. It snowed heavily two days earlier and the lifts had been
shut down ever since due to high winds. As we entered the trees of Timbuktu,
I was elated to see the formerly bumped-out glade had been wiped clean.
The intense wind from the day before had left a perfectly flat surface
on which a marble would likely have rolled back to the chairlift had I
dropped it from the top.
12.28.03 - It was 9pm Saturday night when Chaz first brought up the idea
of an unprecedented December Big Jay run. But with 200” of snowfall
this season and the best December in Jay Peak history, the quintessential
back-country experience in the Jay area at least warranted an investigation.
By 10am Sunday morning we were in line for the tram and highly enthusiastic
about the adventure ahead. Temperatures in the mid to high 30’s,
gear on our backs, and thoughts of previous Big Jay mistakes and triumphs
clouded our minds while the tram brought us to “Elevation 4000”.
12.05.03
- The day finally arrived. After months of patiently waiting for the snow
to fall, weeks of being jerked around by the ever-changing opening day,
and days of weather forecasts calling for anything from 0”-6,”
Jay Peak opened. It was a humble beginning with lifts opening to a ‘hurrah’
from the crowd assembled at the Jet Triple at 9am Friday morning. The
day appeared like any other from the base of the mountain. A dull cloud
loomed overhead, excitement was in the air, and two FC staffers, Chris
and James, were riding their first chair of the season.
12.08.03 - I was awake long before my alarm clock buzzed Monday morning.
You don’t sleep too well knowing the biggest storm to hit Jay Peak
in years had departed Vermont leaving a blanket of mother nature’s
finest. 20”-30” had fallen according to the Jay website and
the chairlift had not opened the day before due to high winds. All five
of us loaded into my Explorer giddy with excitement and wondering what
exactly we were in for at the mountain. I was blinded by sunlight as I
turned onto Rt. 105. Reaching for my sunglasses for the first time in
months it finally dawned on me that bluebird skies would be the backdrop
for this epic powder day.
Older Archives
12.07.03 - Anticipation
11.22.03 - 10 Ideas to Kick the Pre-Season Blues
11.01.03 - Tech Tip #1: Pre-Season Tune-Up
10.04.03 - Tenney Mountain Opens – October
4th
09.01.03 - FC Magazine Launches Online Winter Home