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The first day of the second COVID-19 ski season is in the bag. This was an uncrowded mid-week day at Loon Mountain. With 11 trails open, there was just enough variety to keep going all day without getting bored.
It was a rough season, mostly spent in-state. The lines at WaWa were awful, so I ventured out to Berkshire East, which is a great little place. NH and ME opened up late in the season, so I got to hit Loon, Cannon, and Sunday River.
Day 3: Wachusett![]() | ![]() |
Day 4: Wachusett![]() | ![]() |
Day 5: Sunapee![]() | ![]() |
Day 6: Berkshire East![]() | ![]() |
Day 7: Wachusett![]() | ![]() |
Day 8: Berkshire East![]() | ![]() |
Day 9: Berkshire East![]() | ![]() |
Day 10: Berkshire East![]() | ![]() |
Day 11: Cannon![]() | ![]() |
Day 12: Cannon![]() | ![]() |
Day 13: Sunday River![]() | ![]() |
Day 14: Saddleback![]() | ![]() |
Day 15: Loon![]() | ![]() |
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.
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I took Friday off, driving up to Killington Thursday night. After a bite at a friendly pub I settled down in my room at the ever-practical Killington Motel.
I got up early and made one of the first Gondola cabins.
The snow was in fine shape, but a little more natural stuff would have made things better. They have gone bonkers on snow-making, though, piling on to Superstar and aiming to ski into June.