Arising from the Valley

Here in the U.S. it is the holiday weekend commemorating the life and work of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. It is also one of the busiest weekends of the season in the ski industry. Consider also that Okemo is the busiest (by skier visits) ski resort in the Eastern U.S., and you may begin to understand what our mountain and our village of Ludlow are like at times like these. It's absolute madness here, and we're grateful for it.

The vast majority of our guests at Okemo travel from the Northeast corridor, especially from Connecticut, the northern suburbs of New York, and from the metro-Boston area. They tend to drive to Vermont on Interstate 91 which generally follows the Connecticut River along the border of Vermont and New Hampshire. I took the photos here this morning from the road where I live, looking Eastward towards the river in the direction from which so many of our guests have arrived.

Having so many people here who have traveled from many of the same towns lends the resort a bit of a festival atmosphere. Each day during a period like this one, the staff, having geared up for this important stretch, shares in this spirit, opening our doors in the figurative sense to all our visitors. And, once the sun goes down, we retreat again to our homes to remember why we do it and to recharge our batteries for the next day.

Not So Quiet

The nearly two week holiday stretch is now over, and during that time Vermont and the Green Mountains really bared their teeth for us and for our guests. Last weekend started with a downpour which quickly froze over. We then got several inches of snow, followed by incredibly high winds and brutally cold temperatures for a few days. Then by mid-week we received more snow, flashes of blue in the sky, more wind and, again, more snow. It's snowed all night Friday night, all day Saturday, and it's supposed to keep up through the end of the day on Monday. Today, Sunday January 3rd, the wind picked up to a severe level, sending our guests running back south from Vermont like a racing yacht with its spinnaker flying. For that matter, the wind and cold (with wind chills well below zero Fahrenheit) left just about everything flying about, including a lot of debris and nearly including the chairs on our lifts which made for some pretty harrowing rides up the mountain. In typical fashion, our instructors and other resort staff maintained good humor about it and found solace in some great tree skiing and some hearty and very good-natured kids in our classes. This coming Tuesday, with the holiday vacationers all back in school and at their desks, the skiing and riding is going to be terrific and we'll all consider it a reward for a job well-done during this very busy stretch.

Speaking of the sounds of the weather, during the severely cold days last week a number of us remarked on the noise made by the snow under our feet as we walked as a good indicator of just how cold it was. There's a distinctive squeak to sub-zero (Fahrenheit) snow, and after the heavy winds subsided, it was a welcome reminder of the quietude and subtle joys that winter brings here in the mountains once the crowds have gone. Listening to the sound of the snow and thinking of the breathing room we'll have in our post-holiday stupor also reminded me of one of my favorite Robert Frost poems, entitled Good Hours. I definitely won't be strolling about the neighborhood this evening, but the vivid picture Frost provided will become a welcome reality once the present storm passes:

I had for my winter evening walk--
No one at all with whom to talk,
But I had the cottages in a row
Up to their shining eyes in snow.

And I thought I had the folk within:
I had the sound of a violin;
I had a glimpse through curtain laces
Of youthful forms and youthful faces.

I had such company outward bound.
I went till there were no cottages found.
I turned and repented, but coming back
I saw no window but that was black.

Over the snow my creaking feet
Disturbed the slumbering village street
Like profanation, by your leave,
At ten o'clock of a winter eve.

By way of a more audible example of what we've been facing here, I recorded the video below in front of my house late this afternoon. It includes audio that sounds like something straight out of the special affects department with the wind howling and the trees groaning their disapproval.

I hope 2010 brings good health and happiness to all of my friends and family, and the time to appreciate the quiet joys of life.