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I am not even sure where to begin. How do I put into words the type of day I had at Cannon? Suffice to say, it was one of the top three skiing days in my life. I had what I consider to be my best and most memorable run ever. I have never smiled, laughed, whooped, yelled, giggled, and all out had such a fun six hours in my lifetime. It was pure bliss, euphoria, uncontrolled hysteria. I was a kid again, carefree and fun loving. I had a ball.

I began my day with my customary early wake up time of 5:30 A.M. for the two hour drive to Cannon. Roads were still a little slick and drivers had an attitude. Not a fun drive up. As I laid eyes on the notch, I got an awesome feeling. The whole notch was cloud free… except for Cannon. The top 750 vertical feet of Cannon were socked in. It was the proverbially cloud over the head of Angry Old Man Cannon that followed him where ever he goes. As I drove through the notch, and smiled at Cannon’s personification and stammered my favorite mountain saying “Cannon, you big grumpy old man you!”

I was the polar opposite of that grumpy old man, I was a giddy smiling little kid. The weekend storm had dumped over half a foot of fluff on the broad shoulders of Cannon Mountain, and I was about to hit the candy store.

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Driving to a ski area before the break of dawn, you realize that you share the road with a different breed of the human species. Normal people do not wake up at 5:00 A.M. on a Saturday and gleefully pack their cars in below freezing temperatures. Normal people do not embark on two hour crusades to remote far off mountains that are cold and covered with snow.

Normal people do not know the feeling of trying to earn first tracks on a powder day.

Once on the highway, you pass a Chrysler Minivan with two blurry eyed parents in the front seat, two kids zonked out in the back. You get passed by some college kids in a 1988 Subaru Wagon with bumper stickers that read “Mad River Glen, Ski It If You Can” and “Cannon - It’s A Blast!” Roof racks adorn the many SUVs driven by yuppies that can barely suppress their shit eating grins knowing that they will soon be devouring powder in a few short hours. These are a few examples of the rare form of the human species known as “Skiers,” and together we all drive far and wide to earn turns after a foot and a half of fluff gets dumped on central Vermont and New Hampshire.

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If only everyday could begin like this day. I awoke at the Hiker’s Paradise, a hostel in Gorham, NH. After a short drive down the road, I pulled over to the shoulder of Route 16 to take a picture of Mount Madison and Mount Adams, the northern most peaks of the Presidential Range. Amazing. After a brief drive around the Presidential’s and into Franconia Notch, I entered the parking lot of Cannon Mountain with a wonderful view of its trails.In the lodge, I met fellow NELSAP’er and SnowJournal’er MadRider. We quickly set off up the Peabody Express Quad. The wind was hollowing ferociously, as one can often expect at Cannon. We tracked down Middle Cannon on pleasantly groomed snow and made our way to the Front Face. Upon seeing Zoomer filled up with 4-6 inches of powder, MadRider’s face lit up like a kid in a candy store. For myself, I was an awful powder skier at the time. I was about to tell MadRider I was going to opt for the tamer Rocket, but he was already riding down the pow. So onward to Rocket I went, not expecting to find what I did.

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Friday December 6th was Free Day at Attitash. I had requested the day off from work before I even knew of the event. Serendipity. I planned a cheap ski weekend around the Attitash Free Day. After driving up to Attitash and skiing for free, I would crash at the Hiker’s Paradise in Gorham, NH for only $15 and then hit Cannon Mountain on Saturday to use my $20 coupon. Two days of skiing and lodging for only $35… w00t!!

The Free Day and recent snowfall in Boston Metro brought the crowds. I was amazed at how many people made it up for a Friday. But Free Skiing is Free Skiing! I quickly ran into the lodge and bought an awfully expensive $15 ski lock because I had forgot mine at home. Leaving skis unattended at places like Burke, Cannon, Magic, and Wildcat I have done on occasion. But at an ASC resort with a sketchy crowd? Um… NO! As I was en route to attach my new lock to my skis, I over heard some wise ass kid saying something fresh about a pair of Volkls with Rossi bindings. Give me a break! Maybe some people can not buy new gear every year and have to use their old bindings when they break their old Skis? Shit Head.

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My first day of the 2002-2003 at Cannon Mountain in New Hampshire