reasoning behind skiing cont...

Oddly enough, it seems like in a few days you can sample a wide variety of the twists and turns the ski world has to offer, a hike up an unnamed abandoned resort in affords all the early season powder you can stomach in southern Vt, take it as a precursor, or trial of the true backcountry. or as a way of attaining true peace and quiet...




To get almost the exact opposite effect, get up really early to drive even farther north to make it to the races by 7.30, so that night your friends can pour cheap canadian whiskey from the balcony of a house down your throat (while you wear ski goggles), or shotgun beers out of an old ski boot (pics edited out,,,) so the next morning, 8.00 am in Ascutney Ville you will find yourself:

Music roaring, the vacuum cleaner sucking up the detritus of early early morning fun, the peace and quiet must out there somewhere; gazes shell shocked from the night before sit in deliberation, coffee brewing, a strong stomach wrenching pot takes the place of breakfast; Not a race day for the URI ski team due to an insurance mix up provides Max and I with free tickets on 6 to 8 inches of freshies... It could be an opportunity for all to get back in the roots, but new jersey, new york and rhode island beckon on a long humming ride home... Spirits are high on one end of things, and very low on the other. We get ready to depart the nightmare of a Taoist sage ("in the time of ruin the lord's children shall drink and make merriment long into the night while the lands are ravaged, the granaries full and the people hungry...")

snow the night before, around 2 am:



The deep spruce woods on the peak of Ascutney mountain are far from ravaged, and the land flush with prime real estate, cold and lovely. Last night served up a particularily lovely dinner from the Seedhouse cafe (http://www.bennetts1815.com/), is still going strong in this boy's belly. The food was delicious to the point of absurdity, served by a man named Peter who sported full chef atire and a Harvard Class ring (reason's for going North included straight economics, as well as a need to get out of the partially megalomaniacal metropolis of Boston/Cambridge). Twould be hard to find a more well traveled and rounded restauranteur, or one willing to cater in such a fine manner to two very grungy looking ski bum types... He did however seem grateful for our company, on a cold and rather empty Saturday night, but then again, everything about the place spoke low key: I feel this is somehow integral to the driving vision; i.e. people willing to go to great lengths to obtain a particular quality of life, or a quality of experience...