Dear Dad

Dear Dad,

I thought of you a lot last week when I spent the day skiing at Stowe. The memories came rushing back and I wanted to share some of them with you.

A couple of Vermont friends and neighbors asked me to join them for the “Sunrise Service’’ at the top of Mt. Mansfield. It’s an annual tradition going on 40 years. You drive to the mountain in the dark, get a free lift ticket up the gondola, and ski down. 

You would have loved it. 

Indeed, I am not quite sure why you didn’t make us do it as kids. We didn’t ski Stowe too much because Stratton was so much closer to our home in New Jersey. I always thought our NJ neighbors who drove 7-8 hours to Stowe were crazy. As I look back, they were only a little crazier than we were as we drove six hours to Stratton.

I suspect the religious part of the Sunrise Service wouldn’t hold much juice for you. Gotta say - same here. The pastor from the church in Stowe took to the balcony of the summit lodge and did his thing. Psalm 126, lovely words about the weather and the sunrise. Then the Lord’s Prayer. 

My Catholic friend whispered in my ear.

“So you don’t believe?’’

“No,’’ I replied. 

“In anything?’’ she said. “Not even some higher spirit? You think we just turn into dirt?’’

“Yes,’’ I said.

The service also has a nod to the liberals. We sang “Morning Has Broken’’ by Cat Stevens, the anthem for all of us in high school. 

Then of course “Here Comes the Sun” by the Beatles.

But then the good part.

We skiied down the Perry Merrill trail. You will remember Perry Merrill as the state Forest and Parks Commissioner who gave the ski areas of Vermont the leases on state land to build the resorts. He created the ski industry in Vermont. Or at least took what the rest of you did and made it financially doable. 

The rest of you - the former 10th Mountain Division soldiers, the Dartmouth Outing Club, and you Ivy Leaguers, strapped your skis on your backs and climbed up the mountains. You rode the first chairlift at Aspen, grabbed the first rope tow at Suicide Six, and took the first chairlift at Stratton in the 1960s. 

You would be amazed at the changes since your day. Those blankets they gave you on the chairlift at Stowe to keep you warm in your jeans and turtlenecks? Gone. The chair carries four people now and goes really fast! There is a gondola that keeps you warm on the way up. 

Everyone wears helmets now. I hate them. You can’t hear. They don’t fit. And worst of all they prevent you from looking like Ingemar Stenmark or the Austrians in their handmade wool hats. The hot factor is gone. 

The lift tickets are about $170 per day! I know. Crazy. And they charge for parking now. Remember when you bought some stock in Stratton to get a preferred parking pass so we could park close to the base lodge?

The people are different too. Wealthier of course. The unassuming, avuncular dentist from Greenwich, CT who skied with his family every weekend has become a loud finance guy in his Ford F-2500 who tailgates in the parking lot complete with gas grill. 

The family feel is gone. Remember when we knew most everyone in the base lodge? And remember when they had an Easter parade and ski instructors would dress up in costumes? That’s gone too. 

But enough complaining. 

The actual skiing is still great. 

The famous “Front Four’’ at Stowe is still very much there. Starr, Goat, National, and Liftline are still terrifying, and impossible to ski well. I inched up to the top of Star, intending to ski it as I did in the 1980s. I wanted the moguls, the pitch, the danger. At 64 years old, I looked down and experienced a kind of vertigo. No way am I skiing that. Back over to the Perry Merrill trail for me. 

Stowe has a really nice lodge - a village really - at the base of the mountain, complete with a performing arts center, sushi restaurant, and bars. It’s as close to Innsbruck as Vermont can get. You can stay there and grab the gondola from your condo living room. It’s cool. 

And by the way, Suicide Six is now called Saskadena Six in response to concerns about mental health. 

Back to the Sunrise Service. We ski down and get to the bottom and realize this is too good a day to waste. The temp is rising. The sun is out. It is just one of those perfect glorious days. 

So we upgrade our tickets and head back up Mansfield. Strangely, Little Spruce, the mountain across the way is closed even though there is plenty of snow. My friends tell me they can’t find the people to run the place. And the foreign workers who worked through Easter are gone, their Visas expired. 

So we head back up Mansfield. Now remember, the chairlifts go really fast. It takes about five minutes today when it used to take 20. The sun has come through and is softening the snow. We are skiing hard and fast and feeling superhuman. Remember that feeling?  

You can’t make a mistake because the snow is so perfect and soft. It is blissful. 

We take six runs in about an hour. We break for a beer and a breakfast sandwich at the famous summit lodge, the Octagon. You will be glad to know it is just as crummy as ever, a nod to its historic past. We sit on the deck eating delicious, terrible food and sunning ourselves. We now take pictures on our phones and immediately post them to social media or in my case text them to my kids. 

And then it is back down for six, maybe seven more runs. 

I remember all your lessons. 

• Stop below your friends on the hill so you don’t wipe them out. (You sometimes did not heed this lesson) 

• Stop every few times to catch your breath and socialize about the run and the snow. 

• Base lodges have the best burgers.

• Sharpen your skis at night. 

• Look at the view. 

That view actually hasn’t changed much. To our credit, Vermont has preserved much of the forest land around Stowe. There are some awful luxury homes dug into the mountain. But for the most part, the view is phenomenal.

All in all Dad - a great day that you would have loved, a day that you taught us to love and share with others. 

Thank you for that. 

And Happy Birthday. 

Love Kevin