The Sweetness of Stowe
In the words of Michael “Lenny” Leonard, “this town is so quaint it makes me sick.”
It’s true: nobody milks quaint Vermont quite like Stowe. The views are picturesque and the buildings are nostalgically attractive. Taken as a whole, I got the impression that Stowe doesn’t mess around. Ever. Their dining facilities were pleasing, the food excellent, and all accompanied by live acoustic music. They have an exceedingly cool gondola which takes skiers from the mountain, over the parking area, over the access road, through a valley, and gently distributes them at a scenic all-wood base lodge area for lunch, spa treatments, or whatever else floats your boat.
The Mountain
The mountain itself is ridged and requires a different lift to get you to each section. This is the most logical setup for the terrain, though it makes cross-traversing the mountain difficult. Each lift has a good mix of trails for all experience levels. The mountain’s sole flaw is a function of its popularity: lift lines. The main gondola and the high speed quad were consistently swamped with skiers. The waits to ascend the mountain were enormous. However, the slower 2-person and triple seated lifts remained relatively empty. This discrepancy was odd, and coupled with the following interaction/altercation leads me to the statement: Stowe “locals” (read: probably rich people who frequent Stowe exclusively) are snobbish cowards who happen to have access to some of the best terrain in New England. Allow me to continue.
The People
Its 8am. I’m hustling with half a dozen other enthusiasts to catch first chair.
I turn behind me and ask a skier, “hey, I know you want to get up the mountain as much as I do, but do you mind if we let 2 chairs pass so I can take some time-elapse photos?” You see, I want to take photos without people in them as we ascend the mountain in the morning light (for your sake, dear reader). “Not on this mountain, kid!” says this jackwagon. Not to be deterred, and always a fan of up-close awkwardness, I get on a chair with him and his son.
During our trip up the mountain, he explains to me how hardcore Stowe is, how its not like other mountains, how he’s skied here for 32 years (though he just bought), about the dangers of glade skiing, and finally looking at my mountain pins he remarks, “this ain’t no Stratton Mountain!” He apparently didn’t notice my pins from Vail, Jay, Sugarloaf, and… Stowe.
How can I possibly extrapolate this one interaction to take it that all Stowe regulars are snobbish cowards, you ask? Easily and with prejudice, I answer. That the vast majority of skiers would rather huddle in line and wait for the warmer faster way up rather than endure an old double seater tells me enough. You will not see that at Jay Peak. Fact. Plus, that guy I met was a jerk…
The Skiing
As for me, I delighted myself by hitting up the liftline runs Hackett’s Highway and Upper/Lower Lookout. These double black diamonds were extremely fun and were less skied because they run exclusively for the double and triple chairs. Skiing under the chairlifts is one of my favorite ways to descend a mountain, but you have to bring your A-game. Your audience is there, suspended and bored, and you’re the show. At Stowe this was particularly fun because the lifts are very close to the ground. At one point a guy cheered me on as I caught my breath, he reached down with his ski and I hi-fived with my pole. We were cool.
Stowe is one of the best New England mountains I have ever skied. It attempts and reaches an impressive level of perfection.
Looking Ahead
Look forward to my pending post reviewing Killington Mountain and its knee wobbling nightlife!
So if you’re like me and your SpencerPrattFleshColoredBeardFace is kind of gettting old… stay tuned!
