March 17, 2010
Cherish every last chance for spring skiing
by Tony Chamberlain/
Remember, snow hangs in the mountains after it's long gone from the flatlands. (photo: Tony Chamberlain)
A friend left a noon email today.
“Sugarloaf. Winter conditions. Amazing snow. No one around. Get here!”
I’m used to random, slightly demented messages from my slightly demented ski friends over the years, and come to rely on them as well as cherish them popping into my email list.
Just like the season itself – erratic and unpredictable – skiing and riding this time of year must be dealt with spontaneously. Keep your skis and stuff, if not in the car, at least in the hall by the door.
When you get the call, go. Don’t think about it. You can pick up the pieces of “real life” later. After all, this beautiful snow we have in New England, once it runs off to become trout water, is going to be gone a long, long time.
As often noted, spring creates its own set of conditions in ski country, and the general rule of thumb is to find the areas that receive or create the most snow. Higher elevations and northern extremes usually fill this bill, as do areas with lots of glade skiing and well-shaded trails.
Like Sugarloaf and Saddleback, Jay Peak, in Vermont’s Northeast Kingdom, can rightfully claim to be among the snowiest ski areas in New England, and fits the other categories for superb spring skiing and riding.
Once lucky enough to stay in the apartment in the tram house at the top of Jay, I realized just how high and far north we were. Called Elevation 4000, at night you could see the glow of the Montreal lights in the distance, and that year Jay averaged over 300 inches of snow.
This year, Jay is pushing nearly 350 inches, and the area has some of the finest glades in the East – plenty of dark woods that hold the snow until the last skier is down – maybe around the Fourth of July or so.
Last spring on one warm sunny morning we played hooky and found ourselves in the first tram ride up to the summit – which is actually just a smidge under 4,000-feet. The snow was firm, even a little glazed in our tune-up run but the air was rapidly warming under a cloudless bluebird day.
Among Jay’s 76 trails and runs are a bevy of long, ego-stroking blue cruisers such as. Green Beret and Jet, which we limbered on down to the long runouts at the bottom.
Over on the left side are a number of shorter, steeper runs, such as Timbuktu, which was just loosening up, and without much traffic presented as perfect a spring run as I can remember.
As I say, glade skiing is everywhere on Jay, and the difficulty in steepness and denseness of trees varies widely, so no one is left with an excuse for staying out of the woods.
As the day warmed we made our way into Stateside Glade, rated blue and very manageable by mid-level skiers and riders. Hell’s Woods and Expo Glade are another matter, though not too daunting, especially as the surface softened.
My knees limit my bump activity these days, but once lured into moguls on the U.N. trail we were happy to find the softness was most forgiving, and the amount of bump skiing I allowed myself, limited at best, was a thing of joy.
Like most Northeast Kingdom destinations, there is a mistaken notion that Jay is remote and hard to reach. Those of us coming from the south who take the route up I-93 through Franconia Notch have discovered the drive is no further than that to Killington.
