|Originally posted by TrailRunner:
Had no idea there was year-round skiing in ME.... And my dumb arse thought we had long season's in the RF Valley....
Tenny's actually in New Hampshire.
And Skierteach is quite correct, they did have a bit of rain. The high temps aren't a problem for the snow, as they can pump it out anytime it's below 64*°, but the rain was the real culprit, washiing it away. I was there when it was sunny, and the cover was fine. It was really only worth the cost if you are a hardcore skier and just NEED to get out there (like me). It was only the Alpine Park and Tubing park that were open. It was worth it to me, but I wouldn't have gone a third time. It was more theraputic than anything else (I get depressed when I don't ski for long periods of time).
I was lucky enough to go no more than a month this year without skiing. I spent late june and early july in europe and had a chance to sample a couple glaciers (good skiing but all the sweet stuff was OB), although I was mostly there for climbing and sightseeing. I spaced out my Tenney visits when I came back so that I wouldn't get sad.
The hardest part of the year for me is right now, when there really isn't skiing anywhere around. It turns out that the snow that was falling last night on saddleback didn't stick because the ground was too warm. I called a friend of mine who lives in Dallas Plantation (next town northeast of Rangeley) who told me that early this morning the snow turned to rain and washed away the inch or so that fell. I could've sworn that more than that would fall, but you never can really tell with that mountain. It defies forcasting on a regular basis, especially since the nearest weather station is 10 miles away, and the mountain has an artic subclimate.
As I stood there with a couple other folks on the summit yesterday, we could see the clouds about a mile away at 11:30am, at 11:35am the cloud hit the mountaintop (means it was traveling at about 30MPH).
The cloud was BIZARRE to say the least. It hung overhead at about 5 feet above the ground, packed in so tight that one could literally rip chunks out of it. My head was in the cloud but my shoulders were completely below it, very wierd. It was very dark grey inside the cloud and I couldn't see my hand when I waved it in front of my face, but when I ducked below it, crouching down, I could see everything clear as a bell. I stuck my hand up in it and watched it dissapear. As I drew my hand back I left a small hole in the cloud, that started to grow as if it were alive. It was about at this time that a flake or two started to fall. A nearby hiker had a thermometer hanging from his pack, which read 33°. It had been 40° just ten minutes prior to that.
But it all washed away!
New England weather breaks my heart again. Someday I'm gonna do something desperate.