After several days of beautiful sunny weather here in Northern Vermont, the wind picked up today, and brought rain with it.
Our first few ski runs of the day were fun. Even though the sky was grey, and the wind was gusty, the snow was soft and we all enjoyed having the mountain pretty much to ourselves now that most of the tourists are gone.
After a few groomers, one friend suggested we hike out to the back bowls and see if we could get one last run in the backcountry before the warm weather takes the last of the little bit of snow that’s left. I hesitated. I had hiked up there about a week ago and the snow coverage was already thin at that point…. but there was still probably enough to pick our way down.
We decided to hike out to the entrance we call the “Geriatric” (because it’s one of the easier lines in the back bowls), and just see what it looked like.
We got there and it looked okay - not a lot of snow, but the ground was covered. I’d seen it in worse shape. We headed in and picked our way down, hopping over bare spots, and traversing here and there to find the pockets of snow that hadn’t yet melted. We avoided parts we knew had been in the sunshine all week, and tried to head for what would have been in the shade.
Skiing in the woods this late in the season is an entirely different experience. It’s warm, and you can smell the pine sap. For me, skiing on packed down snow and ice is a lot easier than powder, so I could maneuver through tight spots and jump over small dirt patches if I needed to. (There’s a reason Vermont skiers say we’re “Born from ice.”)
The Geriatric ends at a road, Route 108, that is closed in the winter. When we popped out of the trees and onto the road, there just happened to be a person taking nature photographs. He was so happy to see us. “I got some great shots of you three!:” he smiled and waved as we skated passed him.
The road, usually covered in snow in the winter, was covered in very wet slush and a thin layer of ice. You could see the yellow lines through the ice, and our skis made a clackety-clack sound as we coasted along. But there was just enough to get us nearly all the way to the bottom, and we laughed the whole way down, passing the occasional hiker or dog walker.
“How was it?” they each asked.
”Beautiful!” I answered.