The Ski Log Blog

When the second of three -- or is it four? -- nor'easters came through the Northeast in mid-March, the prognosticated highest snowfall was on the northwest corner of Massachusetts, where lies Mount Greylock and the Thunderbolt trail. I tossed around the idea of going there after shoveling out, but my wife talked some sense into me: It's a drive of nearly three hours one-way. Lo and behold, though, a Facebook friend -- you know who you are -- made the even-longer drive from his home farther west in the hinterlands. His pictures showed deep powder on this storied trail. My disappointment in having missed the chance to ski in this fresh snow was mitigated by knowing someone who had gotten into it. He highly recommended it. So when a free day and good weather aligned, I told the wife I could pull it off, and break up the drive back with a rendezvous with an old work colleague and friend who lives in the Albany area. It was a good plan. Details come later, but here's my sy...

Finally I made it to the lift at Val Bialas. Every time the lift has been running this winter, I've had a conflict. Either I was off skiing elsewhere, had a commitment off snow, or I was enjoying cross-country skiing in the park. I was determined, however, to use this wonderful resource within walking distance of our house. So on what will probably turn out to be the last day of the season at the neighborhood ski hill, I made it out. I put the G3 Alpinist climbing skins on my rock skis, the K2 Superstinx, c. 2001, and headed up the road across the street from my neighborhood. I could have just used the kickers, but I figured these glide a little better and, just in case I didn't buy a ticket or the lift weren't running at all, I'd rather have the full-length skins. This meant I needed pockets to stash them, however, so I donned my Flylow shell jacket with pockets made for this. It was more than I needed though not excessive. The snow was soft, as you...

Would I be happier living farther from the mountains? Or worse off? It's great to be close to the Adirondack Park and its 6 million acres and dozens of officially DEC-designated cross-country ski trails. I appreciate all that. But it's hard to be three hours from the High Peaks. That's where there are designated big-mountain backcountry -- that is, self-propelled, no-lifts -- ski trails. But that's no-man's land: Close enough to send their siren call but too far for realistic day trips. However, there is a real mountain (a hair under 4,000 feet) that's day-trippable. As a bonus, it has a marked, designated hiking or snowshoe route to the summit through state land. It also has an unofficial but frequently don't-ask-don't-tell ski route down. And it's in something of a snow belt and has reliable snow cover through all but the worst mid-winter thaws and, that route being primarily north- and east-facing, holds the snow well. After weeks of hemming...

I meant to start this in November. "Better late than never" is well-used but true. So here I'm going to try to abruptly hit the highlights of ski season this far. The second of March is as good a day as any, particularly when it brings a big snowstorm of several inches here at mid-day with no sign of letting up. It's refreshing the close-by snow and should mean skiing for at least a few more weeks without an overnight trip. Happy. It started November 16 at Mount Snow, Vermont. The Green Mountains had gotten a run of cold air, and Mount Snow got after it with snowmaking. By the time I arrived -- in Vermont to get my daughter for her week-long Thanksgiving break from collge -- the snow had melted down a bit. It was spring-ish conditions when I arrived, and only a handful of trails were open. But what was there was mostly in good shape. I enjoyed a couple of front-side trails and then one lightly bumped-up trail on the North Face, at times the only person on the tra...