Escape to Smuggs

No need to fly 3000 miles for endless runs and big air, the winds are howling at Smugglers Notch near Stowe, Vermont. I escaped Albany yesterday with my friend Nola for a 4 hour journey north to the best skiing in all of Vermont, if not the entire Northeast. Without powder, Colorado has nothing on this place - I think even Bodie Miller would agree.

Madonna Mountain was a favorite for us today. I think it's named that for the bras and panties that hang off tree limbs on your way up one of the lifts. The mountain gave us quite a chill ascending the summit but the ride down couldn't have been sweeter and virtually free of traffic. The best boarders and skiers survived the newest glades with their children in tow. Yes, even some children are good enough to swoosh in between trees in these parts. There are 22 marked glades for every ability level with over 750 acres of all-access terrain to explore between trails. Smuggs markets itself as a family fun spot but don't let that fool you. This place is anything but child's play. Sure, it has it's gentle pitches and groomed surfaces but the mogul runs and no-nonsense double-black-diamond runs are a serious struggle.

After a day of bumps, bruises and carving, Nola and I tossed our lame bodies into the village pool and hot tub. There we bumped into Robbie again, an accident-pro daredevil from Ohio who took a spill earlier when we caught him nursing his soars in the cafeteria. Now, his eyeball had a quarter-size bruise with broken blood vessels forming underneath it. It looked troublesome but Robbie wore his wound like a badge of honor. Crazy teens.

More to tell tomorrow...