My first “real” day of skiing was in-state, at good old WaWa. It’s possible that COVID-19 travel restrictions may mean I don’t ski a single day outside of Massachusetts. I expect to become acquainted with the likes of Berkshire East and Jiminy Peak before too long.
Thanks to COVID-19, skiing at WaWa is a time-restricted, by-reservation-only affair. I bought my slot for the day’s early session, 7:30 to 11:45. Conditions were about what one should expect for an early season day on all-manufactured snow. By about 9:30 what little powder there had been in the middle of the trail was gone, and I kept to the sides, where it had been shoved.
The Boston area got some snow the night of October 30th: two to three inches in parts!
I awoke early Halloween morning deadset on skiing a small hill near my home: Underwood Hill, which leads down to the Underwood Pool (which a few years ago replaced its namesake, the first public swimming pool in the United States). As I loaded the car with skis and boots, the words to Billy Joel’s You May Be Right played through my head: I may be crazy. I knew that when I returned home, and my wife woke up, she would just shake her head and sigh.
A family arrived with sleds at just about the same time I did, and the Mom gave me a thumbs up as I proceeded with my ridiculous suburban ski adventure.
After six laps I had gotten about as much satisfaction as I think that hill could deliver.
So that was my first outing of the new, still uncertain ski season. Six laps of a forty-one-foot-vertical hill.
It’s gotta be all up from here.