Skiing in Vermont
A couple of weekends ago, the Boy's boss offered to let us stay at his vacation home in Stratton, Vermont. It was an unexpected invite, but we had no weekend plans at the moment and jumped at the idea of our first ski trip this winter.
Bright and early Saturday morning (7AM) the Boy's friend ("the Russian") drove in from Brooklyn to pick us up. Surprisingly, he was stuck in traffic getting into the city and looked beat when he arrived. He'd been up till 4AM the previous night partying with a bunch of friends and could barely keep his eyes open (bad, bad...so dangerous!!). So, the Boy and I loaded up his car as the Russian climbed into the back seat and passed out. The Boy took his keys, hopped into the driver's seat, and handed me the directions to navigate. Four hours later, we arrived in Pittsburgh.
Just kidding! Haha. We made it to Stratton quite smoothly at around noon without ever getting lost. We went straight to the mountain to get a half day of skiing/snowboarding in before relaxing at the guesthouse. But first, we gobbled down tupperwares full of pasta salad that the Boy had prepared the night before. Now we were ready to take on the mountain. I went straight to the ski rentals. Never before had I met such an incompetent staff (looking back, this probably isn't true). There was barely anyone in the shop, and I had to continually bother people to help me. I then made the mistake of leaving the rentals place without trying on both of my skis first.
We decided to start off light and ascended the lift for an easy beginner slope. It was freezing cold out there (6 degrees Fahrenheit)! Thank god I rented a helmet to keep my head and ears warm. My lips, cheeks and chin started tingling until my entire face felt like it had been shot up with novacaine. Ten minutes later (no joke), we'd reached the top of the mountain and exited the lift. Now with the wind, I was getting worried that I'd get frostbite. I couldn't feel my fingers or lips anymore. The boys threw down their snowboards and started boarding up, while I plopped down my skis and tried to snap my boots in place. The first ski snapped on, but the second ski didn't look like it fit. The place where my boot should have snapped in looked way too big for any part of my boot to make contact. Damn it! Those morons at the rental place were too busy chatting with each other to bother fitting my skis properly. They only adjusted one side!! Argh! It took 10 minutes to get to the top of the mountain, and now it would take another 10 minutes to ride the lift back down and then another 10-15 minutes to get them fixed and then another 10-20 minutes to get back up with the lines!
As I fumed and cursed, the boys noticed the snow patrol's office nearby. We walked over and knocked on the door. Thanks to them, it wouldn't have been a total waste of time! They were able to adjust my ski so that my boot would snap in, but there were some other adjustments that they were not allowed to make that I could fix at the ski shop. But at least this way, I'd be able ski down the mountain with the boys rather than have to ride the lift down.
It was freezing cold, but the snow was nice and powdery! It was the softest, thickest snow that I'd skied in on the East Coast. So thick that my skis would trip over a pile, and I'd fall out. When we got to the bottom (a very long ride down), I got my skis fixed. The Russian bought a ski mask and hand warmers. I got a pair of hand warmers from the Russian and took the Boy's scarf to wrap around my face which was frozen white as snow by now.
We rode the lift up again and did a few more nice, long beginner runs before calling it a day and going back to the guesthouse. The cold had gotten to us, and we couldn't stand being outside with frozen digits and blue lips anymore.
The guesthouse was about a 10 minute drive away. The Boy's boss had built a mansion and guesthouse upon many acres of land. The street leading up to the house was named after the boss. And what a mansion it was! The entire place looked like a ski lodge built to house a hundred rooms! Our jaws dropped in awe as we drove up the circular driveway. Unfortunately, we would not get to see much more than just the outside of the house. The Boy's boss has a policy that no one stays at the mansion when the master is not in.
Right next to the mansion was a pretty sizeable red barn-this was the guesthouse. The boss's caretaker met us there to let us in and show us around. As the Russian pulled his car into the garage of the guesthouse, our eyes lit up as we saw some of the nice toys that the boss was storing in there. There were two ATVs, two snowmobiles and plenty of ski/snowboarding equipment. A door in the garage led to a full sized basketball court. The caretaker led us up the stairs to a very nice two bedroom house with a fully stocked kitchen complete with a dishwasher, high tech microwave and subzero fridge, living room with a movie theater sized TV, and dining room. The Boy and I claimed the master bedroom which had a very large, comfortable bed and one of those antique-looking, porcelain bathtubs. This was better than any hotel or lodge we would have rented.
We ordered steaks and lobster rolls in for dinner and had a nice night lounging in the guesthouse. The next morning, we woke up early to get in a full day of skiing at Stratton again. It was freezing cold again, but the night laid out a very nice, thick blanket of snow for us. But for some reason, Stratton was obsessed with keeping the snow thick and had their snowmakers on full blast. I'd seen snow makers before, but none so intense as these which were blowing snow out at such a furious pace that they managed to create a mini blizzard over many parts of the mountain.
This time, we went down one beginner slope to warm up, and then went straight to the intermediate slopes. The blizzards were intense on these slopes. It was really quite irritating to ski through, as you really couldn't escape having little ice pellets constantly shooting out at your face as you careened down a slope. How were you supposed to see?! And then they would stick to your eyelashes and freeze the top and bottom lashes together so that you could barely open your eyes. I fell through much of this. By the time I'd finished with the slopes, my helmet was covered in a layer of ice, and I had icicles hanging off my hair. Some of them I broke off. Others I had to wait to melt off when the car's heat kicked in on the way home.
Bright and early Saturday morning (7AM) the Boy's friend ("the Russian") drove in from Brooklyn to pick us up. Surprisingly, he was stuck in traffic getting into the city and looked beat when he arrived. He'd been up till 4AM the previous night partying with a bunch of friends and could barely keep his eyes open (bad, bad...so dangerous!!). So, the Boy and I loaded up his car as the Russian climbed into the back seat and passed out. The Boy took his keys, hopped into the driver's seat, and handed me the directions to navigate. Four hours later, we arrived in Pittsburgh.
Just kidding! Haha. We made it to Stratton quite smoothly at around noon without ever getting lost. We went straight to the mountain to get a half day of skiing/snowboarding in before relaxing at the guesthouse. But first, we gobbled down tupperwares full of pasta salad that the Boy had prepared the night before. Now we were ready to take on the mountain. I went straight to the ski rentals. Never before had I met such an incompetent staff (looking back, this probably isn't true). There was barely anyone in the shop, and I had to continually bother people to help me. I then made the mistake of leaving the rentals place without trying on both of my skis first.
We decided to start off light and ascended the lift for an easy beginner slope. It was freezing cold out there (6 degrees Fahrenheit)! Thank god I rented a helmet to keep my head and ears warm. My lips, cheeks and chin started tingling until my entire face felt like it had been shot up with novacaine. Ten minutes later (no joke), we'd reached the top of the mountain and exited the lift. Now with the wind, I was getting worried that I'd get frostbite. I couldn't feel my fingers or lips anymore. The boys threw down their snowboards and started boarding up, while I plopped down my skis and tried to snap my boots in place. The first ski snapped on, but the second ski didn't look like it fit. The place where my boot should have snapped in looked way too big for any part of my boot to make contact. Damn it! Those morons at the rental place were too busy chatting with each other to bother fitting my skis properly. They only adjusted one side!! Argh! It took 10 minutes to get to the top of the mountain, and now it would take another 10 minutes to ride the lift back down and then another 10-15 minutes to get them fixed and then another 10-20 minutes to get back up with the lines!
As I fumed and cursed, the boys noticed the snow patrol's office nearby. We walked over and knocked on the door. Thanks to them, it wouldn't have been a total waste of time! They were able to adjust my ski so that my boot would snap in, but there were some other adjustments that they were not allowed to make that I could fix at the ski shop. But at least this way, I'd be able ski down the mountain with the boys rather than have to ride the lift down.
It was freezing cold, but the snow was nice and powdery! It was the softest, thickest snow that I'd skied in on the East Coast. So thick that my skis would trip over a pile, and I'd fall out. When we got to the bottom (a very long ride down), I got my skis fixed. The Russian bought a ski mask and hand warmers. I got a pair of hand warmers from the Russian and took the Boy's scarf to wrap around my face which was frozen white as snow by now.
We rode the lift up again and did a few more nice, long beginner runs before calling it a day and going back to the guesthouse. The cold had gotten to us, and we couldn't stand being outside with frozen digits and blue lips anymore.
The guesthouse was about a 10 minute drive away. The Boy's boss had built a mansion and guesthouse upon many acres of land. The street leading up to the house was named after the boss. And what a mansion it was! The entire place looked like a ski lodge built to house a hundred rooms! Our jaws dropped in awe as we drove up the circular driveway. Unfortunately, we would not get to see much more than just the outside of the house. The Boy's boss has a policy that no one stays at the mansion when the master is not in.
Right next to the mansion was a pretty sizeable red barn-this was the guesthouse. The boss's caretaker met us there to let us in and show us around. As the Russian pulled his car into the garage of the guesthouse, our eyes lit up as we saw some of the nice toys that the boss was storing in there. There were two ATVs, two snowmobiles and plenty of ski/snowboarding equipment. A door in the garage led to a full sized basketball court. The caretaker led us up the stairs to a very nice two bedroom house with a fully stocked kitchen complete with a dishwasher, high tech microwave and subzero fridge, living room with a movie theater sized TV, and dining room. The Boy and I claimed the master bedroom which had a very large, comfortable bed and one of those antique-looking, porcelain bathtubs. This was better than any hotel or lodge we would have rented.
We ordered steaks and lobster rolls in for dinner and had a nice night lounging in the guesthouse. The next morning, we woke up early to get in a full day of skiing at Stratton again. It was freezing cold again, but the night laid out a very nice, thick blanket of snow for us. But for some reason, Stratton was obsessed with keeping the snow thick and had their snowmakers on full blast. I'd seen snow makers before, but none so intense as these which were blowing snow out at such a furious pace that they managed to create a mini blizzard over many parts of the mountain.
This time, we went down one beginner slope to warm up, and then went straight to the intermediate slopes. The blizzards were intense on these slopes. It was really quite irritating to ski through, as you really couldn't escape having little ice pellets constantly shooting out at your face as you careened down a slope. How were you supposed to see?! And then they would stick to your eyelashes and freeze the top and bottom lashes together so that you could barely open your eyes. I fell through much of this. By the time I'd finished with the slopes, my helmet was covered in a layer of ice, and I had icicles hanging off my hair. Some of them I broke off. Others I had to wait to melt off when the car's heat kicked in on the way home.
posted by LANYTransplant at 6:04 PM
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