Ice, Wind, and...Powder

Sunday was a weird one at Stratton. The weekend full of free skiing and beer fests I had imagined on Thursday had collapsed by the time I poured my fourth cup of coffee on Friday. My ride to Smuggler's Notch, where Warren Miller was treating me to a day of early-season skiing, had selfishly decided to get a job at Mount Sunapee. The job was to start on the weekend...Sunapee needed snow made or something -so my friend was out. Then, my German friend -the third of our weekend trio- bailed. So no Smugg's, no Stowe, and no Beer Advocate Beer Fest (held at Smugg's Saturday night) for me. And those beer fests are awesome. Damn it.

Then, perhaps realizing the err of their ways,

my friends wanted to ski after all and called Saturday to suggest a Sunday at Stratton. Resisting the urge to call them the liars I felt they were, I agreed to salvage the weekend with them. After all, I've really been in a Stratton mood lately.

The day started off nicely, as we rode on Warren Miller's tab. The snow was pretty decent-they had gotten a few inches of natural goodness to cover the hard packed powder. The lines were nonexistent-even for the gondola, which was being operated by a liftie who apparently didn't know how to count. The board by the lift said that 36 trails -or about 40%- were open, making for the largest percentage of currently open terrain in New England. Five lifts were running, including two to the summit where we were greeted by 12 degree air. Visibility was not great, but the conditions were pretty pleasing for the early portion of the day.

Then, a wind that would have pleased a Chicago sailor picked up. At 28 mph, the wind was just two measly mph from shutting down the lifts and the air went from 12 to colder than a well digger's arse. The gondola was swaying and landing roughly and many of the trails were being revealed for the icy runs that that had been all along. Worst of all, I discovered that the ubiquitous "Waffle Haus" chain had to rename itself the "Waffle Cabin," thus eliminating scores of easy jokes to direct at my German friend every time we skied together. Something about a "copyright infringement" I was told (they couldn't have done better than "Waffle Cabin?").

Sure, it was cold, the liftie ignored whatever line we got into for some reason, and the few inches of fresh snow was being exiled to the woods, but it was still a worthwhile day. Some of the powder was piling up on the sides of the trails and we found some good runs. The wind also chased out most of the people that were there and the Waffle Cabin still smelled like the intoxicating Waffle Haus that I had grown to love. Not to mention it was a free ticket and the evil Dr. Melt was nowhere to be seen on this chilly late-fall day. All in all, a solid early season session.

-Captain Avalanche, New England