And the difference between Stowe and Breckenridge -- where people have been snow-sliding for weeks -- is about a mile of atmosphere.
Years ago in Orono, Maine, where my college roommate Sandy Crouchley got me into skiing, we would not even bring our ski stuff back to campus until returning from Christmas vacation. And if skiing isn't on the menu in that part of deep Maine, it probably isn't happening anywhere.
Not that I mind the battle of press releases that goes on this season -- hey, it looks good to have your lifts running first -- but it seems an awful lot of expense and psychic energy gets wasted to market snowsports in the thinnest of seasons. Skiers and riders would do better to stay interested through March and into April, when the cover is still usually deep and the climate most genial.
Oh well, we'll be skiing soon enough, and I have my usual list of preseason resolutions composed and ready to ignore -- like rule No. 1 about really getting in shape for the season this year. Already blown that one.
Some of the others:
This year, I really want to take these aging football knees back into some mogul fields. Not big bumps, or icy bumps, or close-together bumps. But just some of those nice soft rolls that get you skiing with rhythm as you gain some mastery. Years ago on much longer skis, everyone did bumps for fun, and I'm not sure just when I got lazy and stopped seeking them out.
Related in spirit is my resolve this season to get at least one day of snowboarding in. I've been threatening it for years, and I'm ready to take up a standing offer from Jake Burton to give me a lesson. The only condition is that we do it on a hill far, far away, with no witnesses. One way or another, you'll be reading about it here.
