Last Skier Standing tests the limits at Black Mountain of Maine

In 2024, 76 laps was the record set at Black Mountain of Maine for Last Skier Standing. (Black Mountain of Maine)

Becoming the “Last Skier Standing,” or even approaching the end of the annual endurance event, often requires an unprecedented level of pain and commitment. So, why does anyone ever come back?

The unique race, hosted each February since 2020 by White Mountain Ski Company, is the only known event that follows the backyard ultra-marathon format on touring skis. Participants must climb approximately 1,200 vertical feet to the top of a small ski resort, switch their backcountry setups to downhill mode and ski to the base before returning to the starting line, every hour on the hour, until only one racer is willing to complete a lap.

In February 2024, Justin Lagassey of Plymouth, N.H., set a record with 76 laps at Black Mountain of Maine, equating to 223 miles and 91,000 of elevation gain and loss.

Unsurprisingly, Lagassey declined a personal invitation from race directors Andrew Drummond and Monte McIndoe to return this year. Coming off a 73-lap performance in 2024 after going 62 laps the previous February, Brent Underkoffler also declined.

Yet several skiers who went deep into the event have come back to do it all over the next year. Cambridge, Mass. resident Ben Lane is preparing for his sixth straight year at Last Skier Standing after compiling a total of 221 laps in the previous five years of the event.

“If you had to sign up for next year on the next day, I think it would be hard to get people to return,” said Lane, who tallied the fourth-most laps (66) in 2024. “But by the time registration opens again in the fall, the cobwebs have faded enough for me to decide to do it again.”

Lane had used backcountry skiing equipment only a handful of times before he entered the first event in 2020. While he doesn’t have a specific training plan, Lane does morning laps at Wachusett Mountain leading up to the event, then prepares mentally for a very long weekend.

The event kicks off Friday with spectators, friends and support team members filling a small tent city at the base of Black Mountain of Maine in Rumford. It moved to BMOM in 2023 after three years at Black Mountain in Jackson, N.H. The course involves a brief skin around a corral at the base, before ascending about 1,200 feet over 1.25 miles on the blue square, Allagash, which is also the downhill route for skiers.

By Saturday evening, the crowds have thinned, the field has been cut considerably, and skiers start to battle sleep deprivation. Those who make it to Sunday often are in a delirious or detached state, handling the robotic motions of eating, drinking, foot care and gear swaps with about 15 minutes of down time between laps. Volunteers handle the timing, food prep and organization of the event, offering support to skiers (like Lane), who didn’t bring a support team. When darkness falls Sunday night and the resort empties as the last spectators head home or to Super Bowl watch parties, the remaining participants look for their personal motivation, their own reasons, to keep going until another dawn.

“It’s my people,” Lagassey said about pushing to become the sole finisher last year, with his wife and infant son waiting at the bottom of each lap. “I think it always comes back to the people. There’s some really great people in my pit and I didn’t want to let them down.”

While he pushed through to Monday afternoon last year and recovered physically within a few days, Lagassey said the impacts of sleep deprivation lasted months. The outdoor recreation teacher in Plymouth, N.H., said he’s hoping to return alongside several past finishers for the event’s 10-year anniversary in 2029, to find the true limits of his endurance.

Lane remembers falling asleep while skinning up the hill several times, only to be awakened by the sounds of ungroomed snow off the designated route. In 2023, Underkoffler dealt with serious foot issues that eventually led him to abdicate after 62 laps, giving his friend, Danny Romano, the opportunity to do one last lap for the victory. The following year, Underkoffler received support from his fiancee, Samantha Auty, and friend Zach McCarthy, and his feet were comparatively pristine thanks to a rotation of three pairs of socks and boot liners.

The physical therapist from Conway, N.H., said he went into the 2024 race looking for a personal best, with no intention of signing up in 2025. In fact, Underkoffler said he doesn’t even want to check in on the event via social media this year, giving it a full amount of space before he considers returning in 2026.

“I had to make sure I spoke it into existence by saying I would go for it (in 2024), and not do it the next year,” said Underkoffler, a former cross-country runner at the University of Vermont. “Whatever happens this year, I don’t think it will influence my decision. I’m satisfied with the last go, and happy to take a year away.”

Instead of visiting Last Skier Standing this year, Underkoffler plans to help some friends attempting the inaugural Last Nordic Skier Standing Event the previous weekend in Jackson. White Mountain Ski Co. is expanding its roster of races to this format in conjunction with the Jackson Ski Touring Center, utilizing a wide network of cross-country ski trails to create a 5.75-mile course that participants will complete every hour until only one nordic skier remains.

“Every year we try to add something new and exciting,” Drummond said. “These events are a space for people to challenge themselves and build community. If you happen to set a record, that’s great. It’s a bonus. But at the core of it, we’re just so happy to be out here enjoying what we love.”

Drummond’s partner, Hilary McCloy, a former member of the U.S. Women’s Alpine Ski Team, set the women’s record with 37 laps in 2023, then skied alongside Ilana Jesse in 2024 when she tied the mark. Jack Murphy set a new splitboard record with 45 laps last year, an impressive feat given the added weight and complexity involved with backcountry snowboarding set-ups.

Meri Harrington of Cambridge, Mass., was the last woman standing in 2022 at 27 laps, but when considering she had just signed up for the Boston Marathon the week prior to fill out a spot for a charitable foundation, she decided to stop to avoid any overuse injuries. After missing a year due to work commitments, she’s ready to return in 2025.

“I think of it more as an event than a race,” Harrington said. “So the people you meet, and the experience, for me, is more important than winning. Every year, the day after, I think there’s no way I’m doing that again. Then a couple weeks later I’ll be backcountry skiing with a friend I met at the event, so I start to think I’ll do it again to make more ski friends, and broaden the network.”

Technically, the winner in a backyard ultra format is called the sole finisher, and everyone else receives a “DNF,” short for “Did Not Finish.” The person who completes the second most laps is credited with the “Assist,” for pushing the finisher to the end. The inaugural finisher, Rick Chalmers, returned in 2021 but managed only six laps before retiring. Other than that, Ben Eck is the only finisher to return the following year. Competing on heavy telemark bindings each winter, Eck posted the most laps (61) in 2021, assisted professional skier Brody Leven with 64 laps in 2022, and did the third-most laps (55) in 2023 before dropping out due to knee pain.

“In some ways I felt I had something to prove,” Eck said about his performance in 2022, “And that was less fun. It’s cool when you’re trying to discover your own limits. But if your goal is just to win, I didn’t feel like it was worthwhile.”

Eck returned to support friends last year but won’t make it in 2025 because he recently moved to Boise, Idaho, where he makes frequent trips to the towering mountains of the American West to partake in his love for skiing. That’s the thing about Last Skier Standing — anyone who makes it past the first day, into the painful hours of the remainder of the event, clearly has a deep love for skiing.

“I definitely think that’s what gets me through it,” said Eck, who earned his doctorate degree in civil engineering at MIT. “You’ve got to walk uphill, and that hurts on those later laps, but then you do get to go skiing, and usually, that’s pretty fun.”