We are now full on into the season between Thanksgiving and Christmas vacation week and resorts are hustling to get snow on their slopes and everything in running order.
Hats off to Sunday River, which again has been at it for more than a month now going on two. Sugarloaf is open and it’s famed Tote Road was available on Sunday, although not in pristine shape, we are told. Can we really be picky this early on such a great trail?
Meanwhile, Saddleback is working to lay down snow for a Friday opening and with the recent help from above (thanks Canada) and some solidly cold days coming everybody will be going great guns for the holidaze ahead.
It looks like almost all the hills big and small will be ready for Christmas.
That reminds me of a little holiday seasontale that’s taken on some mythical proportions in my mind and I can’t even remember precisely all those involved.
But many moons ago a sweeping patroller in the early season at Sugarloaf encountered upon a group of Japanese tourists posing for a group photo near Chicken Pitch.
It was Thanksgiving Day and the group was apologetic and sincere in not wanting to delay the patroller’s Thanksgiving Dinner. Repeatedly the patroller assured them it wasn’t a problem but dark was begin to loom and he wanted them to get off the hill safely. (There may have been day’s end beer in the lockerroom under the chapel that day but my memory is foggy on that detail) Anyway as each member of the group took a photo of the group with their camera and then rotated back into the line, the patroller suggested he take one photo of them all together.
In doing so they could all have a photo with everybody else in it, which was the objective. The idea was well-received and the group stood posing for the group portrait.
As the patroller sized up the shot he realized one of the group was without skis. On further inspection he could see the man was without boots as well, standing in the newly man-made snow in his stocking feet but joyfully posing for photos.
Upon seeing this the patroller called for a transport-only toboggan from the top shack at Spillway long-side. The ride went well and the man sustained no major issues with his toes or feet.
The story, as it ends up, is that the man had ejected completely from his boots in the throws of a yard sale. The boots stayed in the ski bindings, so the ski brakes did not released. One ski went one way the other on a divergent tangent, both well downhill and into the trees. They were found the next day.
The day ended fine and nobody was the worse for wear as the man was not injured and had only sustain a dent to his ego, which was now propped back up with the wonder and awe the patrollers had in his nonchalant manner, of losing not only both skis but his boots in the same go. Many had never seen anything quite like it. But come snow or Thanksgiving dinner they were getting their group photo, it was pluck and determination — ok a little silly too.
The patrollers all had a good laugh over this that evening and for the rest of the season the trail was no longer simply Tote Road, but was honorarily named Tokyo Road in honor of the bootless guest. When ever a patroller had the opportunity to use the name in conversation or radio traffic emphasis was always added for effect.
It became a fond tribute to a human moment that bonded these cultures together with a sense of humor and respect. We are now few days past Pearl Harbor Day and a sad reminder of how divergent our countries’ paths once were but also happy of our strong friendship today.
Peace is made by people, day-by-day on a mountainside or anywhere and certainly this little fable, which was fun at the time, has a bigger meaning for me these years hence.
I don’t remember who the patrollers involved were anymore, only the story as it was told to me, so if this was you shout out.
I just have this vague recollection of how the story went down and memories of that honorary nickname for the trail.
On a final sad note today we received word that Spruce Mountain in Jay would not be opening for the season.
They have trouble with a transformer that may be too costly to replace. The mountain which piggybacked power from the nearby paper mill was put in a binder when the mill was shuttered earlier this year. Spruce was home to one of the oldest and the only one that I know of — double rope tow — in Maine.
Thousands in Jay and the surrounding community learned to ski there and many tales were made by local skiers there. Hopefully Spruce will be able to find a good benefactor to help with their power needs and be back in it soon.
Whether you are on the hill at present or off I’m wishing everyone a safe and happy holiday season and will hopefully see you all on the hill soon. If you don’t see me first that is. 
