Tag Archives: Tuckerman Ravine

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Todd the Dairy Farmer

You know, you meet some real characters along the way when you have skied as long as I have. My friends from skiing are special, and I always look forward to reconnecting with them when the new season arrives. Some of them I see during the summer from time to time, and I always give them my tired old greeting…..” hey I didn’t recognize you with your clothes off.” But we laugh and catch up and can’t wait to see each other during the upcoming ski season.

I have also made some friends over the years by introduction from other friends. Like my friend from Vermont, ( now Tahoe), who introduced me to his friend from Vermont whom I always called Todd the Dairy Farmer. Todd skied with us at Killington from time to time and we also took him to Tuckerman Ravine back in the day. Todd was a big guy and kind of dressed like he was still working the farm in Vermont. Flannel shirts, baggy ski pants, and changed from cow patty stained work boots into ski boots. He didn’t say much, probably because I dominated the conversation like I usually did. But he was quiet and unassuming. But man did he ski fast. I learned in a hurry not to get in Todd’s way.

Tuckerman back in the day with Eric.

Now when you paired up my friend Eric, ( from Vermont and now Tahoe) with Todd, it became an unsaid race between the two and I always followed behind because you didn’t want to get caught in that fray. All of us in those days had 207 GS skis and never wasted any time flying down Cascade and Superstar at Killington, and all points skiers left and right. Eric, as I had always known, was very competitive. He still is. Todd always took up the challenge. The best part about Todd, aside from his competitiveness with Eric, and his lightning fast turns, is that he had already put in a full day on his dairy farm before he had met up with us. He told us his day usually started at the wee hours milking the cows, feeding them, cleaning the barn, with most of the work done before the sun rose. So, when Eric and I thought we were the tough guys being there at the crack of dawn drinking coffee before the lifts started, Todd had put in a full day. He was now ready to rocket some turns before he had to return to the farm. He didn’t say much, like a lot of Vermonters, but when he clicked into his bindings, it was game on.

We usually got a lot of runs in before most of the crowd made their way to the old K chair, and it is no wonder. I was always leary of someone coming out of a side trail and meandering out into our way. The closing speed would have been devastating to the approaching skier, and I always tried to be careful. But those two would never look and run after run, it was a race to see who could get to the chair first. Again, nothing was said. Even on the chair, it was small talk about the farm, life in Bethel, and in general conversations that had to be drawn out of Todd. I had no problem telling them my tales, but these Vermonters were pretty close to the vest. Then it was game on again as we rocketed off the chair lift.

Skis are always first in line with Eric- even to this day.

We took Todd one time to Tuckerman Ravine and he had no problem with the camping, or the climbing to ski. I was not certain whether he had been there before or not, but Eric and I gave him our tips and perspective. But as soon as we climbed to the top and were ready to click into our bindings for our run, Todd was off and Eric chased him all the way down to Lunch Rocks where we stopped and got ready to climb again, and again. We thought maybe Todd would tire out with all the climbing, but we underestimated him not only for his fitness, but his toughness and skill, skiing lap after lap on very challenging terrain. Todd didn’t stay as long as we did during the week, because he had to make it back to his beloved farm. But he made his mark at Tuckerman, and with us, who totally respected the big guy.

It has been years since we have skied with Todd, and I asked Eric this past season if he keeps in touch with him. He said that he had not, but wanted to find out how he was doing. We talked about him on the chair at Diamond Peak, and rehashed the old stories of Todd. He was, and still is, kind of legendary in my mind. It is another example of people that you meet during your life in skiing. Sometimes the stories are embellished. But I have to say, with Todd, my memories of him are pretty accurate. I am hoping he is still skiing and still has his farm. Native Vermonters tend not to ski so much and leave a lot of it to the tourists. But Todd was an example of a native who loved his skiing and always put it out there in a big way with us.

I think of a lot of the people who I have met skiing. Interesting people who can’t wait for winter, like me. I can’t wait to see them soon. I have my locals, but also friends spread out all over in ski country. It gives me the incentive to go see them. Hoping we have a good season and remember to ask me to tell you some Todd stories on the chair lift. Thanks for reading and think snow.

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” Enter His gates with thanksgiving and His courts with praise. Give thanks to Him and praise His name.” Psalm 100:4.

Happy Thanksgiving to all of you.

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Memories of Tuckerman Ravine

So, last week, several of my younger ski pals made the trek from Western Pa. up to Pinkham Notch, New Hampshire to ski the famed Tuckerman Ravine. One group was a father and son duo, Eric and Jes Sauereisen. Eric and I have been friends for a long time, and it was his first trip to Tuckerman. He and I have talked about it for years but he finally got to ski it with his son. Great experience that they will never forget.

Jes and Eric. Father and son taking on Tuckerman Ravine. Both excellent skiers.

The second group that was there at the same time and didn’t know it, was the trio of Jason Eshleman( of Chair Report fame), Jason’s long time Vermont friend -Makaio Maher, and John Gerardi. John and Jason are excellent skiers and Makaio is a skilled snowboarder. Skiing/riding Tuckerman for the first time was just what the doctor ordered for them at this time of year.

The Three Amigos preparing to climb
Jason climbing the Left Gully.
Seven Springs legend- John Gerardi
Jason and Makaio. Lifelong friends.

Seeing all their posts on Facebook brought back a flood of memories for me. I skied Tuckerman Ravine 7 times and twice one year- returning on the Fourth of July. I would meet my pal Eric Durfee up there and we would climb up Sunday night, get situated in a shelter at Hermit Lake, and spend the week. As many of you know, there are no lifts and every bit of vertical feet that you ski, you earn by climbing.

The climbing and the skiing are steep.
Eric and I back in the day. Young guns.
Our external packs weighed in at 85 pounds. We were there for the week so we had to take everything.

Lots of memories, like when we skied Dodge’s Drop without climbing it first. We broke our rules that we had to climb everything that we skied. We were caught in the fog up top and skied down Dodge’s. Little did we know that we had to slide down on a frozen waterfall until we reached the snow again to finish the run. We laid the only tracks in Dodge’s that day and people were commenting on that from the Hermit Lake shelter area. We smiled. Eric did it with a cast on his wrist which made the most challenging run ….even more challenging.

Storms roll in and out on Mt. Washington, and one time, I sunk in up to my waist climbing Hillman’s Highway. I was a little scared because if I had sunk all the way through, they might have found me in late spring. Eric pointed out the storm behind me rolling in and said we had to get a move on. He was unphased by my precarious position.

You had to be careful to watch for falling rocks and ice as the days would warm up. One day, a Volkswagen sized rock bounced right over our heads. We ducked to the chorus of some people above us yelling at us to get down on the ground. One year- we watched as a group of people had a rope lowered into the crevasse that always opened up below the headwall. Seemed like some guy accidentally skied into the crevasse and it took a team of rescue workers to get him out. They might have found him in the spring as well.

Fourth of July runs
Dodges Drop
Doing the Mt. Washington Hillclimb back in the day. Sunny and warm at the base, 46 degrees and fog midway, and 41 and sleeting at the summit. In September.

Tuckerman Ravine( not Tuckerman’s- common mistake) has a lot of history too. Back in 1939, an Austrian tucked the headwall and skied on to the Sherburne Trail to win the famed Inferno race. His run was legendary, and you can read all about it. I had the good fortune one year to meet him and hear him tell the story for the New England Ski Hall of Fame. Lots of famous skiers have made that trek. You can somehow feel that history every time you are there.

But getting back to my friends, you have to hand it to them. Not too many people from around here make the 13 hour drive, climb up the Sherburne Trail to the base of the Ravine and keep climbing to the top to ski. It is a rite of passage for New Englanders ,but for those of us from Western Pa, it is not a regular stop. Lots of driving and work to get there, but oh so worth it. Jason and his gang are definitely going back, and I am sure the Sauereisen’s will be returning as well. These days I am happy to live vicariously through them and hear their tales as I dream about my past exploits there. I am happy with chairlifts these days, and comfier weekday living spaces. LOL! North Conway and Pinkham Notch are special places and I am glad that my friends got to experience the climbing, the history, and the skiing. Cheers to them for sure. Thanks for reading.

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The Older We Get- The Better We Were.

Howard Johnson’s at Tuckerman Ravine- 1984

So, I was surprised this week when my friend Eric, from Tahoe( formerly of Vermont), mailed me some pictures from way back when we skied Tuckerman Ravine together. Looking at these 40 year old photos, I thought back to a time when we laid down the only tracks one day in Dodge’s Drop ( and Eric had a cast on his wrist). We had some good times up there as we skied it many times together. But the thing that is amazing about this picture is the equipment we used. I mean, look at the skis. Probably 203 or 205 cm GS skis. Look how narrow compared to today’s equipment. 

External frame pack made for interesting attachments. 

The other interesting thing about these pictures was the external frame packs we used. We added cross bars with latches and wingnuts to secure the skis to the frame. He was from Vermont and naturally used wood. I was from the steel city and with the help of my dad, we used aluminum cross bars. All in all, with the boots secured in the bindings, our clothing and food for the week, sleeping bag and mat, the pack weighed in at around 85 pounds which was a pretty good load to haul to the shelters where we stayed. One year, I thought I would save some time and make peanut butter and jelly sandwiches ahead of time. By the time the week ended, that package of sandwiches had been slept on, eaten from, and generally the once nice, neat stack of sandwiches had turned into a peanut butter dough ball. Lots of memories came flooding back to me as I opened the envelope this week from my friend. 

In today’s world, people who climb and ski as we did, use internal frame packs. There are slots in the side of the packs that allow easy placement of the skis and the internal frames are much better suited to securing a lot of cargo. Lots of guys today use skins on their skis for climbing, and AT equipment to hike and ski to their destinations. Eric and I basically hauled our alpine equipment up to the shelter, and from there basically climbed up in our ski boots with our skis over our shoulders. Equipment surely changes and evolves over the years and skiing is no exception. 

Pro Skier Cody Townsend climbing with his internal pack and AT gear. 

The other things that evolve over time are the stories that we tell about the old days. Sure, there are embellishments, the runs are bigger and badder than perhaps they were, and the stories that we tell each other evolve with the passage of time. But like my friend Paul Vey still says many years later, our trip down Corbet’s Couloir at Jackson Hole, was the highlight of his athletic career. He played Div 1 basketball at UVM and that is still saying something. Somehow the beers taste better when the stories start cranking up. Eric’s wife Helen usually disappears when she starts hearing the old stories. She has heard them way too many times. But when pictures like these start showing up again, they remind me of a time gone by and the good times that we had. I mean, we are still at it – 40 years later. Maybe not camping and hiking Tuckerman Ravine anymore, but still skiing in some pretty good places and having a pretty good time. And still skiing relatively well. 

Eric and our other skiing pal Hutch at June Mt., California. Yes, the beer tastes better when the stories start flowing. 

So, if you get a chance, go look in your old photo boxes and take some time to review your old times with great friends. They will remind you that friendships are important and like equipment and stories, they evolve over time. Having friends that you can still do things with after many years is a true blessing. Encourage each other to stay in shape, stay at it, and make the effort to get together whenever you can. And always remember- the older we get……………the better we were. Thanks for reading. 

40 years later at Mammoth Mountain, California. 

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The Headwall at Tuckerman Ravine

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Still At It

The Minarets as seen from the top of Mammoth Mountain, California

When I say still at it, yes! Just came back from some amazing skiing in Mammoth Mountain, California. A real treat and was still at it for the winter of 2022-2023. A bonus trip came my way with my good friend Eric Durfee. But “still at it” also means that I am still skiing with my friend Eric for over 45 years.

Yours truly and Eric Photo courtesy of Eric Durfee
Yours truly and Eric roughly 43 years ago at Tuckerman Ravine, New Hampshire

We have had great adventures skiing, and this week was another on our list. The skiing in Mammoth was incredible for May. Mid Winter conditions with so much snow that they believe they will ski until September. I took a 5:15 AM flight out of Pittsburgh last Monday and arrived in Reno at 9:20 AM and Eric picked me up at the airport and we drove the scenic RT.395 to Mammoth. We were in the chairlift by 1:40 after I changed in the parking lot. Boxer shorts flapping in the wind. The week gave us interesting weather as it was usually sunny in the morning and clouded up significantly in the afternoon which made the visibility late in a day a little challenging up top. But we made our way to the lower runs and did just fine.

Added bonus skiing with Bill Boucher at left( friend from Seven Springs, Pa) and Pat Feeney of San Francisco. Have not skied with Pat for 40 years. It was wonderful to see him. Both of these guys still ski well. Photo courtesy of Eric Durfee

The great thing about skiing with Eric is his enthusiasm for the sport. 121 days on the snow this year and would have had 14 more if he had not injured his thumb. But he is a student of the game of skiing, and has really worked hard on getting his turns to be more in line with modern technique instead of old school. I am old school too in that I ” A- Frame”, which basically means that I can have my weight on the downhill ski but the inside ski is rather docile. But we worked on a lower stance, a wider stance, and moving the inside knee actively into the turn like the racers do. Eric has it down pretty well and I am getting there. Nice to work on something new at 68 years of age. Generally speaking, Eric and I can ski anything, but working the new technique with the skis that work well with that kind of technique is really enjoyable. We had the wives with us in Oregon recently and that was a lot of fun skiing with Helen and Janet. But to have a bonus week with your friend of 45 years, ripping GS turns, and getting the added treat of some fresh snow was truly memorable.

Speaking of racers, the US Women’s Speed Team was there this week. We really got to see the edge angles and the inside knee move into the turns.
Dave’s Run off the top of the Gondola.
Our fresh tracks after a 9″ snowfall one night. Total accumulation at Mammoth summit this season is over 900 inches. A record. Photo courtesy of Eric Durfee

Groomers getting ready for a summer full of camps and park activity. Photo courtesy of Eric Durfee

But the really memorable thing about being “still at it” is that I can see Eric maybe a couple of times a year, but when we get together, it is as if I had never left. Isn’t that the way it always is with a good friend? We take up right where we left off and continue to tell our old stories and make new ones along the way. When you can drive for three hours each way, and stay for a week and not run out of any conversation, you know you have a great friend. We talk politics, skiing, and life in general and he always has some sage advice for me as well as a way to shed some light on topics in a different way than I hear most of the time. They say to have a friend is to be a friend and Eric definitely embodies that sentiment.

So yes- we are still at it. Skiing is a great sport and it gives us an excuse to get together and enjoy the mountains. We are getting older and we realize our limitations, but for the most part, we are in good shape and can still enjoy making turns and look forward to doing it for many years to come. I have made many friends through skiing, and am perhaps one of the only people around my neck of the woods that gets a little bummed out when winter is over. As I sharpened and waxed my skis for the last time this season, I was a little down. But I look forward to the next season and will enjoy the summer activities with the mountain bike crowd. But when those first flakes start to fall later this year, I will be ready for 2023-2024. Thanks Eric for always keeping me in the game. Thanks for reading.

Photo courtesy of Eric Durfee

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Over the Edge

Mammoth Mountain, Ca.

Years ago, my friend Jack Banbury and I started to go on ski trips with our pal Eric Durfee who at that time lived in Vermont. Eric would take us to places that were a little bit out of our comfort zone and it kind of went like this. Eric went over the edge first, then I saw that it can be done, so I think positive thoughts and went over next. I heard Jack laughing behind me. He reasoned that if Pat can do it, so can he and we all followed Eric. Many different places like the Palisades at Squaw( now Palisades-Tahoe), Corbet’s Couloir in Jackson Hole, and many other iconic drops that make you think about your first turns.

Eric and I went to Tuckerman Ravine in New Hampshire for many years and skied down some really steep walls there that we climbed first. One year, we hiked in the fog over to Dodge’s Drop and broke our rule of never skiing anything that we had not climbed first. But we made it and were the only tracks in there for the day. Eric did it with a cast on his wrist which is another story altogether.

The Headwall at Tuckerman Ravine

Fast forward a few years and Eric’s childhood pal from Vermont started to come with us. Mark Hutchinson was a ski race coach at Stowe and a Level III PSIA ski instructor with a lot of experience. He is a nice smooth skier but we both continued to follow the “alpha dog”,as Hutch calls Eric, down some interesting places at Mammoth Mountain, California and Mt. Rose in Nevada. Same situation, Eric showed us how it is done and then Hutch and I looked at each other, mustered some courage, got rid of any negative thoughts, and proceeded to ski down some iconic drops. Places like ” Dave’s” and “Paranoid’s”. Better judgement said “no” to some drops which Eric skied. But for the most part, we followed the “alpha dog” and breathed a sigh of relief when we had completed the run. In fact, most of the drops that I have done in my life were with Eric and all of them were most memorable. I can honestly say that most of my really good skiing experiences have been with these two guys. We have been skiing together for years and we still put them over the edge from time to time- just to make sure we still have it. The thing is as you age, your experience with these things comes into play. We know how to make the turns. We just need to make sure we are in shape and use good judgement when it is warranted.

Chair 23 at Mammoth- serving up some great “drops”
The Chutes at Mt. Rose, Nevada
The cornice this year at Dave’s Run at Mammoth- whoa!!! Not sure I would be challenging that.

Recently we have been taking trips with our wives and have a nice one scheduled again this year up in Oregon. But I ski Deer Valley, Utah with my wife and some friends from Philly (The Flying Smittys), and locals Patter and Tom Birsic, on another trip each year. When the opportunity arises and the conditions are good, I make my way over to the Daly Chutes at Deer Valley and look over the edge on the cornice above a series of steep drops. I think of Eric and Hutch when I am there and as I peer over the edge, I think about my first turns, get all the negative ” what if” thoughts out of my head, and use the experience that I have over the years to begin a series of turns down to where it flattens out a bit. Skiing these things are part of the western experience that you pay your hard, earned, money for and each year, the challenge is there. As I get older, I assess the risk and the reward and if my experience and feelings at the time are in order, I drop in. But if not, I will defer to another day and time. But the feeling of making some really steep turns down a vertical face is quite intoxicating and one of the reasons why I try to stay in shape by riding my mountain bike. My friend Pete always explains that I am not really a cyclist. I am a skier who cycles to stay in shape. Even though I live in the mid-Atlantic and ski locally most of the time, I love to head west and ski these challenging runs to keep the flame alive. Janet lets me go and burn a few which I appreciate. And when I get together with Hutch and Eric, the “stoke” is still alive as the young chargers say.

Eric and Hutch sipping a cold one at the June Mountain Brewery a few years back.

I am looking forward to what the new ski season will bring with these guys and the ladies. I am sure we will get some chances to “burn a few” together. We may even have a time or two when the ladies need a rest to “peer over the edge” at some things and see if the “alpha dog” thinks it is a “go.” Hutch and I will look at each other, decide, and then eventually make our way back to the ladies for some relaxed smooth turns with them. But we will have that twinkle in our eye if we did something fun with Eric. Just like the old days. The older we get, the better we were. Thanks for reading and think snow.

The Daly Chutes at Deer Valley
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Playing Hurt

From the Best of Chronicles of McCloskey

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From the Best of Chroniclesofmccloskey.com

This is a picture of my friend Eric Durfee and me back in the day at Tuckerman Ravine. We used to ski and camp there a lot  in the spring and although there was enough adventure for the both of us up there with changing conditions and falling ice chunks the size of Volkswagens, we never had an injury while skiing there. Back home after one of those epic trips, I was walking by the tennis courts in our county park, stepped on a tennis ball and broke my foot. People asked me,” Pat – did you do that on your ski trip?” I responded in the negative and told the rather boring tale of the tennis ball. You see, most injuries I have ever had in my life have been mundane, boring circumstances which is how most people get hurt anyhow. Not paying attention…

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Creative Genius

You don’t have to be a Picasso, or Brahms or Mozart, or even Martin Scorsese to be a creative genius in my book. Lots of my friends are really creative and can look at an opportunity, or a problem, or a riddle and figure out how to best create a solution. Perhaps the best creative genius that I knew, who was able to solve most problems and riddles, was my father. A Carnegie Tech mechanical engineering graduate, Dick McCloskey saw most things as a fun challenge. His engineering mind was always at work and he relished the opportunities to create solutions that would last. He could plumb, do electrical work, solder, and artistically create things like the treasure chest that he made me as a kid. I still have it some 55 years later and store my mountain bike maps there. My dad made us an ice skating rink in the backyard by using 2X4s as rink perimeters and a large roll of Visqueen plastic as the liner to the rink. He would fill it with water every winter and we were not allowed on it until it was completely frozen for fear the skates would cut the plastic. Many nights were spent on that rink on the back patio and it was the centerpiece for the neighborhood kids for winter entertainment.

When I first started to go to Tuckerman Ravine in the spring for the ritual of spring skiing, I needed a way to lash my skis to the external pack that I owned. My dad rigged up some aluminum tubing with some hasps and wing nuts and presto, I had a frame that allowed me to attach my skis with the boots in the bindings to the outside of the pack. Skis pointed to the sky on either side of the pack.

Interestingly, my friend Eric who lived in Vermont at the time, was faced with the same challenge and he made his supports from wood. We have laughed about that in later years as the boy from Steeltown had metal supports and the boy from Vermont had supports made exactly the same from wood. Creative genius from two different perspectives.

But the masterpiece which was created around the same time by my dad, was the ski bench that he made me and I still use some 42 years later and is featured in my blog photo here. I remember going to my dad and saying to him that I needed to have a bench now that I knew how to tune my own skis. Thanks again to my creative genius friend Eric Durfee ,who taught me everything I needed to know about tuning skis. He was also perhaps the best ski instructor I ever had but that is another story. I told my dad that I needed to have a bench using the vices that Eric had given to me and he looked those over with great thought. What popped up in his creative mind was something I would never have imagined. A door from the hardware store complete with hinges. He knew that I needed to have a place for my bindings to fit and he cut the door to the specifications of my skis allowing the bindings to rest in a cut out hole in the door between the two vice pieces. He then mounted the door on the wall of my townhouse in the garage with supports underneath either side of the horizontal door. When I was finished tuning my skis. I flipped the door up to be secured by a hasp on the wall and pushed the supports up against the wall and the whole bench was out of the way until the next time I needed to use it.

The interesting thing is I still use the bench today and as an aside, it also serves as a refrigerator in our garage for items that my wife wants to keep cold. My dad never saw that coming, but the creative genius of my wife allowed her to think about a place to keep things cold in the winter and as long as I did not get metal filings or wax in the food, she was open to storing things on my ski bench when it was not in use for it’s original intent.

I could go on and on about my dad’s creative genius. There were so many things that he made for me that we enjoyed together when I was a kid. Today people just buy things. My dad made them, and his love for creating solutions is something I will never forget. Perhaps the biggest benefit about my dad’s creativity was the chance for me to spend time with him. I cherished those moments and I think about him every time I open up that bench, heat up the iron to wax the boards, and get the file ready for the side edge tunes. My dad never skied, but he and my mother made sure my sister and I did and I am in their debt so many years later. Creative genius is more than just the solution. It is the catalyst to education and a chance for guys like me to appreciate and look back so many years later with thankfulness and love for my dad and mom. Although my creativity is on the other side of the brain, I still look back with respect and love for those who educated me with their ability to see the solution. Thanks for reading.

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Playing Hurt

From the Best of Chroniclesofmccloskey.com

This is a picture of my friend Eric Durfee and me back in the day at Tuckerman Ravine. We used to ski and camp there a lot  in the spring and although there was enough adventure for the both of us up there with changing conditions and falling ice chunks the size of Volkswagens, we never had an injury while skiing there. Back home after one of those epic trips, I was walking by the tennis courts in our county park, stepped on a tennis ball and broke my foot. People asked me,” Pat – did you do that on your ski trip?” I responded in the negative and told the rather boring tale of the tennis ball. You see, most injuries I have ever had in my life have been mundane, boring circumstances which is how most people get hurt anyhow. Not paying attention, in a hurry and things happen.

Interestingly my friend Eric and I were talking the other day about my recent severed tendon in my hand which was done in a hurry shoving my bike in my Jeep. We recounted our past tales of injuries. Like when Eric rode the Tour of Cayuga Lake 90 mile road bicycle race with a cast on his hand fitted to the bike handlebars. I chimed in with my similar tale of skiing with a wrist cast molded to fit my ski pole. I finished a Utah trip skiing like that. I also told him about my time when I skied for 6 weeks in the winter on my left ski only. I broke a bone in my right foot and fitted the cast into a moon boot with a lot of padding. Skied most of that winter on my left ski which in the long run was good for my skiing. It made my right turns as strong as my left turns when I returned to skiing with both skis.

But my friend Eric takes the cake though when he reminded me of the time we skied Dodge’s Drop up at Tuckerman Ravine. We did not obey his old ski coaches edict(Joel Bostick from Cornell), which stated that you should never ski anything in Tuckerman without climbing up first to have a look. It was a foggy, dreary day and we found ourselves at the top of Dodge’s and decided to go for it even though we had not seen what it looked like from the bottom. We got about a third of the way down when we came upon a frozen waterfall. The dilemma was before us as to how to navigate this. I basically put my skis horizontal to the slope and slid down the waterfall sideways on my rear end- or right cheek basically, until I reached the snow again. A shaky move but I pulled it off. Eric had the more heroic move by placing his tips and tails between two rocks, balancing himself, and then jumping straight up into the air,turning downhill, and straight-lining until he reached a comfortable spot on the snow. The amazing thing is that he did all of this with a fiberglass wrist cast. Two skis, one pole.

As we sat at HOJOs having a beer later in the day, on the deck, we saw that our tracks were the only tracks in Dodge’s that day and the deck conversation with some guys was focused on ” those two guys” who skied Dodge’s that day with the frozen waterfall and all. We smiled as we drank our beer.

 

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Fourth of July Turns

Outside of setting my neighbor’s awning on fire with a bottle rocket launched by my grandfather, one of the most fun Fourth of July weekends was skiing at Tuckerman Ravine up in New Hampshire. That weekend was the second trip to the Ravine for the year with my pal Eric Durfee and we coupled great turns on corn snow with water skiing, golf, tennis, and jumping in his dad’s pond and swimming in Lake George. I came home exhausted but making ski turns in July was a real treat. I can recall the sunshine in the bowl, the beads of sweat forming on my forehead and climbing with my pack in a t-shirt and wind pants. July snow is dirty on the trail from all the freeze thaw events but the fragrance of pine trees, the rushing water in the streams, and the general communal feeling of extending the ski season was pretty cool.

A number of years later, I had a meeting in Fresno, California. I called my pal Jeff Rose from Philly who was also attending and I said, ” Hey man, how would you like to ski Mammoth Mountain on the weekend before and after the meeting? He was all in, being an avid skier, and as we came through our shirts in 108 degree temps in Fresno, the locals looked at us like we were nuts with all the ski equipment. Rose conked out on me as I drove through Yosemite in the pitch black night, but we made it to Mammoth at 3:00 AM. Bleary eyed, we awoke to blazing sunshine on July 19th. The latest I had ever skied in my life. Again- the feeling of getting over on something by extending yet another ski season was first and foremost on my mind. That year, Mammoth closed at noon but we were the first on the lift in the morning and made tons of turns on bullet proof ice which miraculously turned to amazing corn snow for just a short while until it turned to mush. Corn snow is fickle. It forms in the sunshine for a brief time and rewards the faithful with hero conditions. That brief moment when the corn snow is perfect has to be harvested as soon as possible. It was amazing to see how soon it turned to slop and we exited the mountain right at noon. The afternoons were spent sitting in the hot springs, drinking a beer and regaling the locals about our forward thinking to ski while on a business trip.

I have not had the opportunity to ski that late in a number of years. I know they are hiking up Mt. Rose now with good snow still in the Chutes. Nevada folks are dedicated and with the snow pack out there this year, they will most likely be skiing and hiking long into July. Mammoth will be open again and also Squaw Valley,California in Tahoe with a remarkable announcement, will have one chairlift open all summer into the next ski season. I will be there for a wedding in September and if they have that chair running as promised, I will definitely take a run or two to set a new personal record.

Why do I talk about skiing in the summer? My mountain bike friends set their watch to when I will start to talk about skiing on a ride. I look at my equipment in my garage and take the obligatory edge feel when I pass my shelf on the way to get my bike. I guess my enthusiasm for sliding on snow carries me through the year as it is the most fun outdoor activity in which I participate. Only 5 months to go. Plus, I love the winter. Not that I don’t like the change of seasons, but in those rare occurrences when I can ski outside the regular season, I thoroughly enjoyed it. My pal Bill Yalch out in Colorado will be camping in his van and getting the last turns of the season this year. He may have to do some climbing, but he will harvest that beautiful corn in that way too short window of time. Think snow? No- not yet? Thanks for reading.

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The Tribe

I am reading an interesting book by Dr. David J. Rothman called,” Living the Life- Tales from America’s Mountains and Ski Towns”. I thought it was going to be some fun stories about the ski life but it has turned out to be so much more in the description of the lifestyle of the sports that we are all passionate about. Dr. Rothman suggests that there was a certain “cause and effect” that took place when we realize that something that we were attracted to as an outdoor activity became a passion. The resulting experiences and stories are shared by a group of people that are communities in effect and we understand the stories that we tell about ourselves.

I remember coming back from Tuckerman Ravine2013-02-05-the-bowl one year and telling my folks about the steepness of the skiing and the ice block avalanches and the weather and the total experience of being in the mountains in it’s most raw state, and my mother’s response was, ” That’s nice dear- would you like some more potatoes.” Not my mom’s fault but she just didn’t get it or appreciate it. But the Tribe does. That is what Dr. Rothman so eloquently describes in his book and what I am about to describe here to you.

There are groups of people who I call fans. They are football fans, baseball fans and many of them have played the sport but most of them are fans of a sport in which others perform. In sports like skiing,mountain biking and snowboarding, there are groups that are formed and friendships made that last a lifetime. IMG_0803 These groups also merge into what I call ” The Tribe” which is a gathering of many groups celebrating the passions of these activities. The gathering of the Tribe can take place at a mountain bike festival, a race, or at the bottom of the slopes in the springtime for instance at a ski area where folks are celebrating the weather, the friendships, and the stories around a beer and a burger on a sun splashed deck.

If you are not involved in a group or a Tribe of people, chances are you will be lost in the conversations of the Tribe. ” Hey- did you see that endo that Joe did over the bars into the creek with all that splooge on his face?” ” Hey- did you see Mike ski down that couloir with rocks on every side?” ” I looked down that couloir and had to really think about that first turn.” ” How about that climb out of the canyon?” ” How about that rock strewn singletrack with the slimy root section- hairy wasn’t it?” These are the types of conversations that infuse the gathering of the Tribe at a festival, race, or ski area. IMG_0723

The disappointing thing about being with the Tribe of your peers, is that when you come back to work, or home and try to recreate the vibe of that weekend or time spent with the Tribe, you cannot adequately describe it. But the cause and effect and the passion that resulted in the decision to join a group and the several times a year gathering of the Tribe, is necessary because these are the people who are ” your people.” Nothing against your co-workers, family, friends who may not participate but there is nothing like the feeling of when the Tribe gathers and the stories begin at the end of the day around a campfire or an outdoor deck. IMG_0811

Recently the local mountain bike tribe gathered in the Laurel Highlands for a celebratory ride for a birthday of a friend. A whole cadre of folks came out representing many groups of riders all there to celebrate the big day of one of our own. Elaine Tierney, of Mountain Bike Hall of Fame and Dirt Rag Magazine notoriety, said it best when she was amazed at the gathering of different age groups represented. Elaine remarked,” We have people riding here in their 20s, 30s, 40s 50s and 60s. All age groups riding together and enjoying all that the mountains and the friendships have to offer. Age means nothing when you are passionately involved in a sport like mountain biking, skiing, or snowboarding. So, I always encourage older folks not to shy away from an activity because they think they are too old. There is a group for you and also a Tribe who will welcome you with a smile, a beer, and conversation that you can understand once you are a member. Thanks for reading. Be a follower of the blog