MT. WASHINGTON VALLEY, NEW HAMPSHIRE, USA - Nearly 2 million people are killed each year while trying to ski downhill for the first time. Ok, ok...that's not true. But, when the assignment came in to do a skiing story, I said I'd do it on one condition...that the story would be called "Skiing for Non-skiers".
Agreed. And, off I went. I was scared you-know-whatless! After all, I will hopefully reach the ripe old age of 50 this year and I hadn't tried downhill skiing for over 25 years.
My Sorry Skiing Past
I hadn't tried alpine skiing since the early '70's, when I was fresh out of college. My best friend from MU J-School settled in Aspen and I went to see her each winter for three years in a row. In the early '70's, the Graduated-Length Method (GLM) was used to teach us novices how to ski downhill. I went to ski school each year and only got worse and worse. GLM featured short (about 3 feet long) skis the first day, slightly longer skis the second, longer on the third, and so on and so on. After a few days they finally gave us poles. Before that, we were supposed to just flap like birds. This was all designed to teach perfect parallel skiing. The word "snowplow" was never uttered. I hated every minute of it. But, I loved Apres-Ski! We were pretty laid back in the early '70's.
Well, guess what? The GLM didn't work. Sort of like the Vietnam War. But, in both cases, no one really knew they didn't or wouldn't work until several years later. After three years I felt so intimidated that I would only visit my Aspen friend in the summer...when there was absolutely no chance of having to try skiing. Aspen has a great music festival in the summer, and that was enough for me. I considered taking up yodeling, but was pretty sure I couldn't find a place to practice.
Starting Over
So, in January 1999, I headed off to the Mt. Washington Valley in New Hampshire, where I discovered slopes that were kinder and gentler...more huggable...without the evil specter of GLM. Since I live in Manhattan, the easiest way to get to New Hampshire was to fly up to Portland, Maine, meet some friends, rent a vehicle and drive an hour or so up to the Mt. Washington Valley. My pals were from the South and Midwest and we all flew in on US Airways flights from various hub-cities and met at just about the same time in Portland. Our vehicle had all sorts of 4-wheel drive capabilities. Oddly enough, our designated driver was from Florida! I cowered in the back.
To get things off to a civilized start we stopped for tea at the picture- perfect Admiral Peary House B & B in Fryeburg, Maine...the very southern tip of the Mt. Washington Valley. Owned by Nancy and Ed Greenberg, along with Max-the-Terrier, this is a wonderful place to stay. Each room is more well done than the next, and in the winter, two-day packages start at just $129 for two (total). And, like a total loon, I asked Ed why it was called the Admiral Peary House. Ed's a nice guy and very nicely explained that the place had indeed been the home of the man who discovered the North Pole. He then prompted Max to do his show-stopping trick: Roll Over. Max got some blueberry coffeecake for that!
The Mother Lode...Mt. Washington Valley
If Norman Rockwell, Stephen King, J. D. Salinger, Robert Frost and Grandma Moses somehow all got loaded on a Saturday night and started tripping, their hallucinations wouldn't even come close to the beauty of this place. The valley runs some 50 miles around and along side the 6,288-foot-high Mt. Washington and features truly picturesque towns, inns, rushing streams with covered bridges and ski runs which dot the valley and its notches.
And, then, there are all those outlet malls. Oops. But, sometimes you just gotta shop! I snagged a couple of pairs of long johns ($7.99 each) at the K- mart in North Conway (the main town) and will wear them forever. Kids of all ages laugh their heads off when you wear the bottom part as a hat.
We checked into the Bretton Woods Country Inn at the Mt. Washington Hotel and Resort. The main hotel shimmers, day and night, like a giant space ship from the past that has somehow landed in this gorgeous valley. It's the last of the old grand hotels that used to line the valley at the turn of the last century. In the 1940's, during the beginning of the end of WWII, world leaders gathered in the hotel's beautifully preserved Gold Room to form what would become the World Bank and International Monetary Fund.
The 200-room hotel, listed on the National Registry of Historical Places, has never been open to guests in the winter but will, for the first time in history, be open for the 1999-2000 winter season. In fact, the party to mark the new millenium will be the blow out of both centuries in the Mt. Washington Valley. But, the smaller inn is open this winter and is just down the hill from the main hotel.
I checked into my cozy room and got ready for dinner. In the background the impeachment proceedings were droning on and on, on the TV. But, wait...didn't all that begin here in the first place? I thought, "Oh just shut up, and let Bill alone...he told us he was a horn dog in 1992...in New Hampshire".
Anyway, that's the last time I thought about politics for the next four days. Dinner that night was in the main dining room at the Notchland Inn in Hart's Location. This granite mansion built in the 1860's is a stunner. Along with a perfectly preserved original Gustav Stickley parlor, the inn has 12 beautiful guestrooms and suites. It is owned and operated by Ed Butler and Les Schoof and Coco, their friendly and sweet Bernese Mountain Dog. And, the dinner, was a pleasant surprise. The chef, James Hunt, a graduate of the Culinary Institute of America, turns out traditional and more adventuresome dishes that are well worth the trip. I could eat his lobster stew (do I hear the Maine surf?) and rack of lamb continuously until I died. Rates, including lodging, dinner and full country breakfast range from $180-$265.
D-Day
My first downhill ski lesson in over 25 years was scheduled for the next morning. I thought, "OK...this is it...if I can do it...anybody can".
At 8:00 AM I clomped down to the dining room in my circa-1971 National Guard-issue combat boots and a pretty decent outfit of Obermeyer ski clothes. I stopped off in the dining room and wolfed down a great breakfast (I never eat breakfast except when I travel) of real blueberry pancakes, sausage and maple syrup. The butter and syrup alone could be a great little entree for me! Or, perhaps, even a beverage...served hot! Slurp!!!!
My group and I...all first timers...gathered at the beginners' slope of the Bretton Woods Mountain Resort (part of the Mt. Washington Resort complex) for our lesson. We had been outfitted with state-of-the art skis and...POLES! But these skis were different than the ones 25 years ago. They were "shaped"...sort of like an hourglass. And, they were a little shorter than the ones years ago. All the better to cover the ground with...we were told.
We took baby steps, we practiced turning, walking up hill, and then after about an hour and a half...we were ready to take the two-person chair lift up to the top of Rosebrook Meadow (the bunny slope) and ski down. We all made it! None of us fell down...even once. We did it again and again! We were SKIERS! And, all of this...before lunch!
Our new idol was Charlie Lamontagne...our instructor. I rode up on the lift with him and said, "you are a great teacher". He modestly told me that he was semi-retired now and had been, for many years, a superintendent in the Boston school system. I beg you...if you have any qualms about learning to ski. Call Charlie at the Bretton Woods Ski School at 1-800-232-2972 and book either private or group lessons. He or one of his disciples will have you skiing in less than two hours.
The day continued with a tasty lunch (the French fries are addictive) at the top of the mountain at the Top o' Quad Restaurant and then skiing down the big slope. I was a little over-confident and let 'er rip. Well, I fell down a lot, but ultimately made it down with the help of my new best friend Bonnie...who works at the resort and has the patience of Job (or Jobette). She did almost wet her pants laughing at me one time though. I was sprawled on my back, both poles cast off to the side and both skis about three feet from the rest of me. Clint, she said "We call that a yard sale". Bonnie, I'll never see a yard sale again without remembering your encouragement. Thanks for helping me make it down the mountain and not letting me chicken out.
I was scared at how sore I would be the next day so I raced back to my councesy room at the Bretton Inn and soaked in the tub for about 30 minutes...all the while watching a beautiful snow fall outside. And, just to be on the safe side, I stopped in at the bar downstairs for a glass of Merlot. Red wine always help ward off stiffness.
Dinner that night was back at the bottom of the mountain at the Bretton Woods Ski Resort's Slopeside Restaurant. The snow was still coming down and provided a beautiful addition to the sight before us...nighttime skiing. The mountain is brightly lighted and the skiers come down the mountain and right up to the restaurant. And, should Mother Nature need any help, the resort is equipped with snowmaking machines to keep the slopes in perfect shape for all levels of skiers...day or night.
Day 3
I woke up in Winter Wonderland again and loped downstairs for another light little breakfast. (I swear to God that when I got back to New York I had actually lost a pound or two). Then it was off for more "Skiing for Non- skiers".
There are a couple of activities that almost anybody can do while in the Mt. Washington Valley: Snowshoeing and riding up the mountain in a Sno-Cat. So off we went to the Appalachian Mountain Club (AMC) for a little snowshoeing. These shoes are sort of like walking over the snow while wearing aluminum tennis rackets. But, again, our equipment was state-of-the-art. After the snowshoe hike with our knowledgeable guide (who would periodically whip out the pelt of an indigenous animal and pass it around) we gathered in the lodge for a cup of cocoa and a tour of the facilities. This place is for hikers and skiers of all levels and provides quality lodging and food at really affordable prices.
After a hearty lunch at AMcup we tooled down the road to Pinkham Notch, home of Great Glen Trails, for the Sno-Cat ride. Again this operation has trails for all levels of skiers and snowshoers. We piled into the Sno-Cat and started up Mt. Washington...home of the fastest recorded winds in history. Well, it was a little squishy going up and the ole Sno-Cat had a hard time making it beyond 2,000 feet that day. We turned around and came back down...but still had a great view or two from our 2,000-foot-high perch. In cases like this, your money is either refunded or you can go up at another time.
That afternoon, I checked into the New England Inn for the last two nights of my Non-Skiing stay...even though by that time I was pretty much ready for induction into the U.S. Olympic Mogul Ski Team. This inn's main building was constructed in 1809 and features 11 rooms, and about a dozen duplex cabins...all with fireplaces. I had half a cabin to myself and enjoyed a little nap in front of the fire before dinner.
Dinner that night was in the main dining room at the Christmas Farm Inn, in the Christmas-card-perfect town of Jackson Village. Christmas addicts will never be the same after dinner or a stay here. There are beautifully decorated trees all over the inn and its property year round. And, our dinner featured well prepared Continental and New England classics.
After dinner we revved up the four-wheeler and drove down the hill to the Eagle Mountain House Inn where we gathered on the front porch to watch the annual Jackson Winterfest Torchlight Parade. I love stuff like this. Anyone in the area can participate. Anyone, that is, who can cross country ski at night while traveling up and down a series of hills carrying a lighted torch in each hand (no poles!) The skiers arrived at the inn and lined up in front of the crowd and created a finale by twirling long wires tipped with lighted steel wool balls dipped in kerosene. Around and around the large homemade sparklers went. The beautiful sight still brings tears to my eyes when I think about it. This is small town America at its very best.
The Last Day
On Sunday, January 10, 1999, we were greeted with one of those New England mornings that truly makes you feel glad to be alive. The sun was out, the air was crisp and cold, and a new snow had fallen during the night. Grandma Moses would have torn out the front door in her nightie and fired-up her easel right on the spot. We met at the Red Fox Pub in Jackson Village for their Sunday Jazz Brunch...an incredible spread, with live music for only $15.95. I don't know how they do it but this foxy brunch definitely gets three big Woofs from me.
XC Then, again, a big moment of truth was looming on this gorgeous horizon...cross-country (XC) skiing lessons. After that light little brunch at the Red Fox, we arrived at the new and improved headquarters of the
Jackson Ski Touring Foundation, feeling sort of like Pillsbury Dough Boys and Girls (these snow suits aren't exactly slenderizing!). The Jackson Ski Touring Foundation (a non-profit group) maintains trails on ground owned by over 80 private landowners, the town of Jackson and the White Mountain National Forest. This foundation provides 97 kilometers of groomed trails with the largest fleet of trail grooming equipment in the East.
We were fitted with our long, long, long, skis and lined up for our lesson. Our teacher, again, was the best, and in no time, we were sliding along the trails like Nordic champs. I literally stopped in my tracks at one point. I couldn't believe the sight along side me...a real covered bridge, by a rushing mountain stream, with the town of Jackson in the background. I whipped out the old Olympus for that one.
After another tremendous success for "Skiing for Nonskiers", we repaired to the town of North Conway for some serious shopping. My favorite place on the main drag was the New Hampshire Craftmans' Shop where everything on sale is by, naturally, New Hampshire artists and artisans. By that time, guess what? We were hungry again.
Also on the main drag in North Conway is a wonderful place to have dinner...Horse Feathers. You can have anything from great burgers to Continental inspired fare at Horse Feathers. Tearing Myself AwayWell, needless to say, I fell in love with the Mt. Washington Valley, and can't wait to go back to try some other slopes...ones with names like Attitash Bear Peak, Black Mountain, Cranmore, King Pine and Wildcat.
Let's face it, as far as skiing goes...I am now a wildcat.
Clint Brownfield, Skier
Getting There
For more information on the Mt. Washington Valley call toll-free 1-877-WHT-MTNS (1-877-948-6867).
Mt. Washington Hotel and Resort - 800-258-0330 for reservations and information
Bretton Woods Country Inn - 603 374-6131 or visit their web site at www.notchland.com.
Admiral Peary Inn - 800-237-8080 or contact admpeary@nxi.com for more information .
Great Glen Trails call (Sno-cat ride) 603 466-2333
Appalachian Mountain Club (AMC) - 603 466-2721 or visit their web site at www.outdoors.org for more information on this wonderful organization.
Jackson Ski Touring Foundation - 800-XCSNOWS or visit their web site at www.jacksonxc.com.
- Christmas Farm Inn - call 603-383-4313
- Eagle Mountain House at 603-383-9111
- Red Fox Pub (Sunday Brunch) - 603-383-6659
- Horse Feathers Restaurant - 603-356-6862
Clint Brownfield is a globetrotting food and travel
journalist who resides in New York City when between adventures. Among
other publications, his work has been seen in Working Mother and
Woman's Day.
USA 
