You know, whatever you do in life, it is important in my opinion to do it with passion. People have romantic passion. They have passion about their work or spiritual life. But passion is what makes a good athlete great, a businessman successful,and a marriage that continues to grow. Life in general is much better if you find at least one thing where passion dictates the path on which you travel.
Another dimension of passion is how you approach a hobby or a sport in which you participate. Golf is a sport where most participants see it as a lifestyle rather that just something that one does. You either play golf, or you are……….a golfer. Skiing is a similar pastime where it becomes part of the fabric of your life if you approach it with passion and dedication. That is what happened to me through the efforts of my folks who did not ski by the way. I remember it was my dad”s birthday in March of 1962 and he took my mother, my sister and me to Seven Springs Resort here in Western Pennsylvania for the first time. It was a horrendous night on the turnpike but my folks thought that this would be a great sport for my sister and I to learn. Fast forward to a year later, I will never forget the feeling as I awoke on Christmas day to find a pair of Innsbruck wooden skis with cable bindings and Saska leather boots which were lace boots. My dad bloddied his knuckles many times tying those boots for me until he made me learn how to do it correctly. My folks had thrown the bait to me and I grabbed it and was hooked for life. Every day I called the ski report to listen to the god of all skiing, Lars Skylling, give those famous words on the ski report……….” The skiing is GOOD to EXCELLENT!!!” I read the Seven Springs brochures cover to cover until they were ragged and was thrilled that I got to ski at night on rock hard ice and brutally cold conditions. But I was hooked and the experience fueled my passion to this day. God bless Carol and Dick McCloskey. They would love to see that 51 years later, I am still following my passion to ski.
Bob Rose, Sally Rose, Barley Rich and Dixon Rich, who were our neighbors, took all of us neighbor kids to the next level when they bought a farm house on County Line Road right near Seven Springs. Every weekend we would pile into the Rose staion wagon and hit the mountains for the weekend. My mom would have dinner ready for me at 4:30 and I would wait by the phone for Bob Rose to call and tell me what time he was picking Molly and me up for the ride to the slopes. We had so many great times in that farmhouse and at the slopes. It’s funny, today you would never think of dropping off a kid to ski all day, give him some ravioli money for dinner, and them pick up the kid at 11:00 passed out in front of the huge fire in the ski lodge. But that was how we rolled in those days. We were skiing all day and night until Bob came by and woke us up with the familiar salutation,” Wake up dummy – time to leave.” I loved Bob Rose and Sally and Barley and Dixon. Great neighbors who had a “passion” for skiing and a “passion ” for kids.
People ask me today, how many ski areas I have skied in my lifetime and I tell them 107. They ask why I still ski around Western Pa when I have the opportunity to ski elsewhere and I tell them that I can’t be out west or in New England every weekend and that I like to make turns no matter where I am. There is nothing better than stepping into your bindings, pushing off, pressurizing your ankles and making that first turn of the day. No matter where you are- it is fueled by passion. Just like the golfer who steps to the first tee, gets settled, makes that nice loose swing and flushes one right out the middle of the fairway. The feeling is marvelous just like a turn. You don’t appreciate these things unless you have passion. If you don’t have it, do yourself a favor and get involved in a hobby, a sport, or another pursuit that offers you the rewards of hard work and commitment. By the way,the picture is of one of my first ski passes. That fat little kid is still doing it 51 years later. God Bless

The picture you see on my home page is a youthful version of yours truly a long time ago in a galaxy far far away. Tuckerman Ravine,New Hampshire is the venue and home to some of the most vicious weather in all of the earth. The winds that have ravaged the summit of Mount Washington which is directly above the Ravine have been clocked at 268 MPH which are the highest wind speeds ever recorded. Tuckerman Ravine is also home to the annual rite of passage for many New Englanders in the spring who are seeking a rugged adventure coupled with the thrill of skiing 50 degree plus couloirs that ribbon the face of the Ravine.
For seven years in a row, my good friend Eric Durfee( now residing in Incline Village,Nevada) and I packed up our external frame packs with food, beverages, sleeping bags and pads and our skis with boots secured in the bindings and trudged up the AMC Trail to the Hermit Lake Shelter Area. Here you can rest for the night in a “lean to” shelter which can be secured by contacting the Appalachian Mounhtain Club in Pinkham Notch,New Hampshire. It was always an interesting night hike with Eric because it involved an all day drive for me from Pennsylvania coupled with the 3 hour trek from Vermont ( home to the Durfees at the time) and a 2 hour hike up to the shelter dependent on trail conditions. One interesting night, I had the good fortune of downing 2 Big Macs and a large Coke in record time because my starvation level had reached its peak during the passage through North Conway,New Hampshire. You would think that a quaint little town like North Conway in the valley below the Presidential Range would be void of fast food but as we all know, the Arches extend them selves world wide in the most remote of places. Needless to say, I welcomed the sight and inhaled the tasty two all beef patties, pickles, lettuce, special sauce, on a sesame seed bun in record time and began my trek to Hermit Lake.
About half way up that night, I got a rumbly in my tumbly as Winnie would say and the 80 pound pack was ejected to the side of the trail as I rocketed to the nearest remote place and rid myself of the most vile biomaterial I have ever witnessed. This unfortunate cycle continued for 4 more rounds until I reached the shelter dehydrated and pale as the icing on a wedding cake and a long way from home. Eric claims that the echos in the woods that night seemed as if a wounded wolf was stuck in a trap as the pain of that gastrointestnal adventure reverberated in the serene pine trees of the Presidentials.
After a restful evening in the shelter, save for the romantic interludes of a Canadian couple at the other end of the shelter, we woke to clear skies and happy climbing to ski some of the most storied runs in all of skiing. To the left of the Headwall is The Left Gulley and Dodges Drop. As you summit these ribbons of joy, the slope begins to get real vertical and you can actually reach in front of you and touch what you will ski. The technique is always to kick steps on your way up with your skis over your shoulder and your ski boots on. Once you reach the top, you basically shove the tails of your skis into the vertical slope, gingerly slip into your bindings and drop into your first turns. A person in decent shape can make about 6-8 runs per day. The weather is always changing and you can be in a T shirt and wind pants one minute with the sun warming your face and facing a raging snow storm with 90 MPH winds in the blink of a frostbitten eye. But these are the adventures that you long for when you go to the Ravine and although my friend Eric says that there are hundreds of Tuckerman Ravines throughout Nevada and California, there is only one Tuckerman with its famous stories and infamous personal stories shared by skiers all over the world.
So as you look at this young fellow on the home page, you will see the adventure, the joy, the excitement of a 27 year old guy with the world of adventure ahead of him and behind him to some extent. As I continue to blog away here for you, I hope to present some fun, some romantic and exhilarating times and the notion that if we all continue to do the things that we always liked to do, we can enjoy life well into our 80s and maybe 90s. BS you say?? I think not. As Dylan Thomas would say…………” Do not go gently into that good night……….RAGE RAGE against the dying of the light.” God Bless.

Hi Friends – well I am trying to start a new blog recounting the many stories of my skiing life for the last 51 years. Many of these stories you may have heard and many may be new, but i can guarantee a lot of laughs and a lot of fun if you follow and spread the word about this blog. I will do my best to keep up and post as many stories and pictures as I can. So jump into the http://chroniclesofmccloskey.com and see the fun begin.