Spring skiing is a lesson in variable conditions – from slush to ice to bare ground. It is also a lesson in tolerance and patience with accompanying subpar skiing conditions. Or maybe it's just a measure of how desperate you are for more skiing.
And so as temperatures have climbed to unseasonable heights (maple producers must be screaming right now), and my yard has gone from white to brown, I have been plying my skis on sun baked trails throughout the Tri-Lakes Region, choosing locations based upon whether or not they would likely still have snow.
This choice is important – trails that lose their snow more quickly than others must be skied first. Wait one day too many for a final ski on such a trail and you are out of luck. Over the past couple weeks, I've bounced from trails in Tupper Lake, to the packed ice from snowmobiles on the Bloomingdale Bog Trail, and finally to the last stronghold for snow perhaps in the entire park, the trails near Lake Clear about which I wrote last week.
The Lake Clear area received a lot more snow than most of the Adirondacks this winter. Consequently the depth of snow there has allowed me to eke out a few more days of skiing this March. It was there my ski season began this year when there was little snow elsewhere in the Adirondacks and it is where my ski season will end.
Along the way, and at each location, the quality of skiing is directly proportional to the quality of ski gear I use. My best skis are packed
away and my uncertainty about the snow quality and trail conditions compels me to bring at least two pairs of skis with me each day that I'm out – just in case the snow may not be fit for one pair of skis that I'd prefer to use if I could.I'm now down to my rock skis – my old skis I've used far more times than I should have – but skis that I don't have to worry about scratching. They are well etched by the miles already. I've kept them for conditions like this.
With such heavy, slow skis on slow, wet conditions, spring skiing can be akin to snowshoeing on skis. Melting snow compresses unevenly beneath your weight and it is nearly impossible to get into a good, fast rhythm. In addition, this weekend along the Fish Pond Trail in Lake Clear I was forced to take my skis off from time to time to walk over bare patches beneath hemlocks. While on skis I was dodging twigs, sticks, and branches that came down in recent winds and littered the trail, and are no longer being covered by new snow.
But despite the frustration of poor snow quality, slow slush, and increasingly bare hillsides, spring skiing brings with it its own variety, fun, and charm. While annoying at times, these skiing inconveniences are part of the spring skiing experience, and they add a sense of exploration and accomplishment to the activity. The trail has changed since the last time you skied it – even if it was only the day before – and you are rediscovering it, not avoiding the trail due to some hindrances.
Spring skiing can also be a sort of freeing experience – as I ski I'm no longer encumbered by layers or fighting for circulation in my digits. In fact I've recently been skiing in shorts and a t-shirt. At no other time of year can I go for a ski, work on my tan, and listen to resident and recently arriving birds fill the air with song.
Gone are the hard, fast tracks of January and February. Instead we have long sunny days on soft snow that is fast disappearing and nearly gone. But we still have spring skiing, and despite spring's early onset this year, we have the satisfaction that we can steal just a few more days away from summer. It's how we skiers begin to welcome the start of spring while squeezing every drop out of winter before it melts completely away.