One of the main benefits of living in the area we moved to in New Hampshire is the close proximity of skiing. I grew up on the mountain, specifically Mt. Hood in Oregon. To people in the Rockies or Sierras, I’m sure they’d fine many faults with the terrain and snow quality of the Cascades, but it is a Big Mountain with plenty of steep and broad skiing. Powder is a bit hard to come by, but not unheard of, and the pack is usually pretty good.
I’ve only skied New England once, in the early 90’s, and it was a like going on an ice rink, but on skis. Snowmaking should have solved some of that problem, though. I think the draw, though, that overrides the potential quality of snow and terrain is this: quantity has a quality of its own. When you live less than 15 minutes from the parking lot from the nearest chairlift, your excuses not to get some turns in after work go down to near zero. That’s the hope!
In preparation for the winter, yesterday we went to the Mt. Sunapee Ski Club’s annual ski swap, and it was great. Masked crowds went from table to table getting used — and cheap! — equipment for the impending season. I didn’t need anything, but the girls definitely required outfitting. No matter what Danica and I tell them, they still insist on outgrowing their previous year’s stuff. So for Grace, new boots and poles. For Clare, skis, in addition to boots and poles. Next week after we get our stuff delivered to the house, we’ll still have to go through the rest of the gear, but that’s the big stuff. And the nice thing? The final bill was just over $100. Noice.