Sanchez
07-25-2004, 10:58 PM
I am new to this site, but not that new to the ravine. Yes, I'm from Massachusetts but I don't think I quite count as a masshole (after spending more time up north in the winter than I do at home). Anyway, I figured I would share some of my views on the ravine as of this past season (2004).
As it turned out, snow wasn't all that scarce. If you could pick a good day when it wasn't boxed in and even the gulf was open, some good skiing could be had. One day, there was enough snow on the headwall that the lower edge of my ski got whomped and I rolled down most of the way. That was the day when I remembered the midfats. Another time I was on Atomic GS skis, which continued to sink into the snow, leaving me without the ability to turn. I made a few kick turns out of sheer terror, and saved myself. Don't ski on toothpicks in the ravine...it doesn't like it that much.
One of the most memorable times was, in fact, the worst. We got up on top and noticed a line of stratos coming into the valley. Stupidly, we went right to the top and skied down. Literally the moment we hit the bottom, the flakes started flying. We had made two runs only, so the dissapointment set in. I suggested we leave, in no uncertain terms, for fear of a major storm blockading the summit cone. So, still in ski boots, we hustled down to Pinkham Notch. As it turned out, the storm was absolutely nothing, and we were almost tempted to turn around on the Mass Turnpike and head back up. Almost.
A very dedicated ski friend of mine gave me a call midway through the winter and said, "This winter has sucked. No snow but the temperatures are way below zero." I just laughed and said, "I don't know where you've been skiing, but it isn't Tuckerman's Ravine."
As it turned out, snow wasn't all that scarce. If you could pick a good day when it wasn't boxed in and even the gulf was open, some good skiing could be had. One day, there was enough snow on the headwall that the lower edge of my ski got whomped and I rolled down most of the way. That was the day when I remembered the midfats. Another time I was on Atomic GS skis, which continued to sink into the snow, leaving me without the ability to turn. I made a few kick turns out of sheer terror, and saved myself. Don't ski on toothpicks in the ravine...it doesn't like it that much.
One of the most memorable times was, in fact, the worst. We got up on top and noticed a line of stratos coming into the valley. Stupidly, we went right to the top and skied down. Literally the moment we hit the bottom, the flakes started flying. We had made two runs only, so the dissapointment set in. I suggested we leave, in no uncertain terms, for fear of a major storm blockading the summit cone. So, still in ski boots, we hustled down to Pinkham Notch. As it turned out, the storm was absolutely nothing, and we were almost tempted to turn around on the Mass Turnpike and head back up. Almost.
A very dedicated ski friend of mine gave me a call midway through the winter and said, "This winter has sucked. No snow but the temperatures are way below zero." I just laughed and said, "I don't know where you've been skiing, but it isn't Tuckerman's Ravine."