Three Hours, Three Runs, Three Feet: Magic

Magic scored a late season jackpot. After an extremely lackluster season, two key storms saved the end of the season, the second of which was the big one. One foot is pedestrian. Two feet doesn’t happen every season, but happens more often than most skiers realize. But a three footer? That only happens every once in a while.

Most areas were open the day before, but Magic is closed mid-week which allowed the full storm total to accumulate. So, while many other Vermont resorts received almost as much snow, Magic was the only place to open for the full bounty untracked. However, that is information that most powder hounds and Magic loyalists figured out. Which made for a Red Chair lift line that rivals the busiest Single Chair lift lines at Mad River Glen.

I arrived almost an hour before the Red Chair opened. But, despite my early arrival, the lift queue was continually being built, allowing late comers to get an earlier chair despite not having waited 50 minutes. It was quite disappointing and frustrating, but the staff was doing the best they could (many employees couldn’t even leave home due to lack of plowing).

I finally made it to the summit, but I was considerably behind the untracked rush. Many folks floundered in the deep snow, unfamiliar with how to ski the deep dense stuff. I blew past them, knowing I had to get back to the lift ASAP and make better trail selections. After a pair of 40 minute lift waits, I found myself skier’s left of Goniff, sampling the steep off map woods. It was quite nice, but the area needs a brushing.

I needed to hit the head and I didn’t think I could wait another hour for a full cycle. This was a prudent move as the lift was down when I returned to the queue. The slow backup generator was kicked on and it probably took over an hour to get the last skier off the lift. I only got three runs in three hours, but at least I didn’t piss myself on the lift.

Turns out a power line went down and, given the nature of the storm, the power company was going to take a while before they could fit it. I elected to leave at noon, which was a sound decision as the lift never got power back later that day.

Magic seems cursed. Even when everything goes right, everything goes wrong. Had the “new” chair been operational by now, many more runs could have been had by all. Magic cannot control a local power outage resulting from a massive storm. But it is just the mountain’s luck. It was nice to be back at Magic. But it was the most disappointing three foot powder day that I have ever had.

MRG: Jackpot (Finally)

MRG Trees

This season has left much to be desired. I had skied only two times through the end of February. Northern New England ski areas were averaging one storm every two months with little in between. President’s week featured a powder day that felt like a late season weekend. Conditions were so terrible that even a holiday powder day could not bring the crowds out.

But you can never completely write off a season. It just takes one storm to get things going again. One exceptionally good storm to make you forget about months of misery. And at Mad River Glen, we finally got that exceptional two-footer, and it put most lines on the table. And the off map trees were skiing phenomenally due to the think and dense nature of the snow.

The storm brought out the crowds, leading to one of the longest lines that I have ever seen for the Single (easily a 40-minute wait). But the nature of the Single is that even hours after opening, there are still untracked lines all over due to the low density and low uphill capacity. The lines thinned out by noontime, and I didn’t last much longer than that. Only on my third day and charging hard, my legs called it quits long before I wanted to.

Double Day, Part Two: Cannon

Candyland

Continued from Part One

While driving home from Jay, after only a few hours of lackluster skiing, I was replaying my helmet issue in my head. Why wouldn’t the ear pads fit into my helmet? What made them pop out without warning?

As I approached Franconia, I recalled that I had two helmets. Perhaps they had different ear pads and I had jammed the wrong set into my helmet? While driving, I rummaged through the pockets in my boot bag. And, sure enough, I found another set of ear pads. What a fucking idiot.

I started the approach to Franconia Notch and Cannon loomed large. By now, I had compared snow reports on my phone, and I knew Cannon had received more than three times the few inches that Jay had received. It was almost two o’clock, not much time left for the lifts. But, I had the sudden urge to stop at Cannon and resume my ski day, with my helmet and with leftovers from a foot of fresh.

I was glad I stopped! The skiing at Cannon was phenomenal. While I was many hours late to first tracks, I used my knowledge of the mountain to find the best snow and enough untracked to justify a powder day tag. It was only the second day I have ever skied two areas on the same day, and certainly the first time I had done so without planning it that way.

Jay Peak: Knee Deep

Paydirt.

Two feet. Knee deep untracked. Every single run.

Can one day change the malaise of an entire season? Almost. It cannot change the past, nor the season’s future trajectory. But it still ranks right up there with all of the other knee deep untracked days that I have experienced. They are not a given during any season. Even a powder hound like me can go years between knee deep days. They are always special.

Especially when I found myself dropping the best untracked lines of the day for my last run. What!?!? Nuts.

It all melts down after this, perhaps the season’s best (and only significant) hurrah.