billski
Active member
Eww! You have to pass Rumford ME on the way to the slopes. Probably one of the least scenic places in Maine. The smokestacks were belching out the most disgusting wood product byproducts. Factory worker housing surrounded the place.
Billski being billski, I decided to take the factory tour, of my own making. I came upon a wide bubbling brownish cauldron of disgusting liquid. These bubble are so big you can see them from outer space on Bing Maps (see for yourself!) The train switch yard was enormous and the latest load departed with a loud horn blast. The rusted old tanks saying "prevent forest fires" was memorable, at best. Well, anyways, back to the safari.
On the way to Black, the drizzle started. We were at 28F. Halfway up the road, enormous wet snowflakes began to dump. Well, here I am, who am I to not ski. Cars were parked well down the access road. Turns out there was a pretty substantial high-school cross-country race going on. It was actually quite exciting to watch, lots of onlookers, you can stand on the overpass connected to the lodge and tons of peeps cheering them on as they passed underneath.
This ain't no backyard ski tow. How do I describe it? Maybe Pats Peak in size, with a modern lodge, up to date chair lifts, and a fairly average looking modern lodge. Not to diminish, it was a well done lodge. A pretty profession operation, definitely a step up from, Black Mt. in Jackson NH, not to be confused. I paid my $25 all day ticket and booted up.
It was already raining when I went to the lift. Of course there were no lines. Everyone was watching the race, so it seemed. Up to the top on a fixed grip chair lift, with a very wet seat. I loved the trail names. Nothing cute. Androscoggin was a little scratchy, but turnable (Titcomb conditions were better overall). Next run, the liftee reported freezing rain on top. Easily detected from ice on the seats. Uck. second run was down Piscataquis to Penobscot, kennebago. It was a really nice trail, everything was well groomed.
By this point, my poles had iced over. The clouds socked in the mountaintop, signalling the warm air arriving. I then took Allagash, probably my favorite, classic trail. It winds, it weaves, meanders up, down, with a surprise around every corner. Boilerplate at the top of a couple of lips, easily passed over. Lazy River was a hoot too. Everything here was groomed, but the trails had their own "personality", unlike the uniform grooming I've seen on numerous Southern Vermont mountains.
The last run was down Swift, which has a nice looking set of tight but groomed glades on the side. They will give you your money's worth - you have to work for it!
At the bottom, a wardrobe change into my civies was in order. My clothes were dripping. Walking out to the car, I found the parking lot to be a sheet of ice. When I left, the access road turned to a sheet of ice too. It didn't matter that I had snow tires and AWD, the car just slide to the bottom. Fortunately the road then leveled, and went slightly uphill. After that, me, and everyone else drove with the right tires off the road in the snow and dirt. There was about 20 of us, and it took 20 minutes to go what had been five minutes. It was a line of sensible Mainers with SUV's and trucks all with snow tires. There was one car trying to get uphill and all it did was spin its front wheels.
Sometimes GPS can be absolutely silly. It insisted that the best way home was a traverse across rte 2, then south on 16, past Mt. Washington and over the pass. Entirely nuts. I turned onto route 2 The ten miles on Rte 2 were treacherous and it could only get worse. Besides, the conga line out of N. Conway would just be worse. So I hopped on a Maine state road and went south. At the first upward hill, there was an incredible amount of freshly laid sand. When we got to the top, there was a police car blocking the downhill lane, with a line of cars held up. Presumably they were waiting for a sander on the downhill side. Anyways, you're here for the trip report. I abandonded plans to hit Lost Valley. Just as well. A three hour journey turned into four. Well, there still are a lot of areas I need to hit, and Spruce is back on the list.
Billski being billski, I decided to take the factory tour, of my own making. I came upon a wide bubbling brownish cauldron of disgusting liquid. These bubble are so big you can see them from outer space on Bing Maps (see for yourself!) The train switch yard was enormous and the latest load departed with a loud horn blast. The rusted old tanks saying "prevent forest fires" was memorable, at best. Well, anyways, back to the safari.
On the way to Black, the drizzle started. We were at 28F. Halfway up the road, enormous wet snowflakes began to dump. Well, here I am, who am I to not ski. Cars were parked well down the access road. Turns out there was a pretty substantial high-school cross-country race going on. It was actually quite exciting to watch, lots of onlookers, you can stand on the overpass connected to the lodge and tons of peeps cheering them on as they passed underneath.
This ain't no backyard ski tow. How do I describe it? Maybe Pats Peak in size, with a modern lodge, up to date chair lifts, and a fairly average looking modern lodge. Not to diminish, it was a well done lodge. A pretty profession operation, definitely a step up from, Black Mt. in Jackson NH, not to be confused. I paid my $25 all day ticket and booted up.
It was already raining when I went to the lift. Of course there were no lines. Everyone was watching the race, so it seemed. Up to the top on a fixed grip chair lift, with a very wet seat. I loved the trail names. Nothing cute. Androscoggin was a little scratchy, but turnable (Titcomb conditions were better overall). Next run, the liftee reported freezing rain on top. Easily detected from ice on the seats. Uck. second run was down Piscataquis to Penobscot, kennebago. It was a really nice trail, everything was well groomed.
By this point, my poles had iced over. The clouds socked in the mountaintop, signalling the warm air arriving. I then took Allagash, probably my favorite, classic trail. It winds, it weaves, meanders up, down, with a surprise around every corner. Boilerplate at the top of a couple of lips, easily passed over. Lazy River was a hoot too. Everything here was groomed, but the trails had their own "personality", unlike the uniform grooming I've seen on numerous Southern Vermont mountains.
The last run was down Swift, which has a nice looking set of tight but groomed glades on the side. They will give you your money's worth - you have to work for it!
At the bottom, a wardrobe change into my civies was in order. My clothes were dripping. Walking out to the car, I found the parking lot to be a sheet of ice. When I left, the access road turned to a sheet of ice too. It didn't matter that I had snow tires and AWD, the car just slide to the bottom. Fortunately the road then leveled, and went slightly uphill. After that, me, and everyone else drove with the right tires off the road in the snow and dirt. There was about 20 of us, and it took 20 minutes to go what had been five minutes. It was a line of sensible Mainers with SUV's and trucks all with snow tires. There was one car trying to get uphill and all it did was spin its front wheels.
Sometimes GPS can be absolutely silly. It insisted that the best way home was a traverse across rte 2, then south on 16, past Mt. Washington and over the pass. Entirely nuts. I turned onto route 2 The ten miles on Rte 2 were treacherous and it could only get worse. Besides, the conga line out of N. Conway would just be worse. So I hopped on a Maine state road and went south. At the first upward hill, there was an incredible amount of freshly laid sand. When we got to the top, there was a police car blocking the downhill lane, with a line of cars held up. Presumably they were waiting for a sander on the downhill side. Anyways, you're here for the trip report. I abandonded plans to hit Lost Valley. Just as well. A three hour journey turned into four. Well, there still are a lot of areas I need to hit, and Spruce is back on the list.
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