Perhaps it’s my heritage, but I think of spring skiing in the same way I look at a traditional “Irish wake.” It’s a time of mourning, when the inexorable march of time brings my favorite season to a close. But it’s also a great opportunity to celebrate everything that we skiers and snowboarders are grateful for.
Thanks to the unpredictable nature of New England weather, even a true spring outing can have a true winter feel. Last April, my wife and I (together with our daughter Brynne) met up with some friends at Sunday River. The plan was to enjoy some nice weather and some nice easy turns, my first since having spine surgery the previous November. But Mother Nature had other ideas.
The snow flurries started during our drive from Boston’s North Shore, and by the time we got to our suite at the Jordan Hotel, it was dumping pretty good. As we enjoyed our ribs and brisket from Smokin’ Good BBQ and sampled a variety of tasty bourbons, I kept glancing outside.
The snow kept accumulating, quickly. By the next morning, we had at least 8 inches of sugary powder, and I remember saying to Lauri, “Welcome to spring in New England.” We had mid-winter conditions, in April. Crazy.