note: east coast flat light and a crap digi create crap photos but you get the idea
Phone rings, head splits, legs ach, fumble for the phone, “Yo, let me look, no not much, looks like a pretty weak snowfall, yeah let’s do 9:30, ciao.” Uh, so I take the hit for the team, suffer the hang-over, and where’s my redemption? As any good rider knows, the surest way to ensure a solid snowfall is to sacrifice your head to the depths of Milwaukee’s barrels. Screw it, it’s a snow day regardless, I am hitting the hill.
explanation of 7YW here
Winter is pretty nasty business; it makes digits hurt, cars crash, and turns even the most mundane outdoor task into an laborious ordeal. Yet against all odds, there are people that absolutely love this season and most hold at least a marginal romantic view.

I count myself in the former and have a theory for the latter. You see, winter brings the greatest holiday in the world to children across the North, the snow day. An unexpected windfall, it is generally coupled with heaps of snow for sledding, throwing, and eating. As adults, we seldom have the pleasure of experiencing the sacred sensation of the snow day and sadly we start to view winter more for its downfalls, steadily losing the mystique. I hate to admit it, this was precisely the case for me over the past few winters, “dammit, more snow, my back hasn’t stopped hurting from the last shoveling operation.”

Sunday night I steadily watched radar, reports, and tapped into the rumor mill. Based on the consensus that nastiness was forthcoming and having spent far too much time in airports this year, I made the decision to shift my travel plans. With a snow day in effect, I contacted sister Carrie and set the plan to hit Sugarbush up.

Arriving at the predetermined time, braving the treachery of Ap gap covered in snow and idiots, I anxiously awaited sister’s appearance. Carrie finally emerged from the lodge at 10:15, adequately pissed about the extended season’s pass line, but ready to slash the white wave. We were greeted by a solid 6-8 fresh and the skies were absolutely puking gorgeous light pow pow. We kicked it up the hill with the quickness, chewed through the chowder, slithering our way into the woods.


What the woods, Dec. 3rd, Vermont, seriously, yeah and with a base to boot. Rolling with the big grin, we popped out onto a “less open” trail, oh well, it is too early to clip passes, we didn’t know it was closed, whatever fresh tracks to be had. I can’t remember the last time I scored completely fresh tracks for an entire run on the east coast, probably about 7 years back. Unreal, so good, it really was questionable if it was legal.

On the ride up, we could see legions of poachers attacking the bounty behind the yellow band. Miraculously, our wee stash stayed virtually untouched and we were able to nab two more pristine runs. The snow continued and by our last run it may have been a foot strong. Epic.

As the day wore on and legs wore out, I relented on my original declaration to ride no slow lifts and we ascended the peak. The coaster down was right on, heelside lay-outs for days, so much fun, shifty ice tap, method, melon, the best day of the year, we retired to the liquid refreshment portion of the day.

There is no greater stoke than the resort bar on a powder day, the collective clientele reveling in the conquests and grandeur of the day, a toast to the beauty of life. And the snow day came to a close, but the snow keeps coming.
Get out there, make your own snow day, it is fun.
Thanks dayglow guy, you made the day complete.
7YW0708 – It Sucks Less – Seth.