By Tim Peck
(Editor’s Note: Powder7 doesn’t necessarily share the author’s view on where to find the best skiing in the US. But it’s got our r.e.s.p.e.c.t!)
Debates have raged my entire life. There was rap (Biggie, obviously). Then IPAs (Heady Topper, case closed). And the ever-simmering question of what region has the best skiing. That answer is, unquestionably, the East.
Sorry to the West, Pacific Northwest, West Coast, and Central (Bohemia!), but the best skiing is in the East. Of course, every skier west of the Mississippi will get their puffy down knickers in a bunch over this. But sometimes the truth is tough to take. Here’s why the right coast is so right for skiing.
Ice is Life
“Ice Coast” is just one of many disparaging names western skiers have for the East. But if you were “born from ice,” as Ski the East puts it, you know that the excessively frozen water we often slide down is part of what makes this place great. Racking up days on set-an-edge-or-suffer-the-consequences snow makes east coasters better skiers. It also makes the beer taste better. Whether it’s blue ice, packed powder (white ice), mashed potatoes, “machine groomed loose granular,” or fluffy flakes—East Coast skiers style it all.
Better Skiers
The list of world-famous skiers who cut their teeth on the East Coast’s frozen slopes is as long as it is impressive: Andrea Mead Lawrence, Billy Kidd, Kasha Rigby, Daron Rahlves, Bode Miller, and Micheala Shiffrin, to name a few. Even the “face of Colorado skiing,” Chris Davenport—the first person to ski all 54 of Colorado’s 14ers in one year and one of the original three people to ski the 100 highest peaks in Colorado—was born in Massachusetts. He began skiing at New Hampshire’s Attitash Mountain before attending high school and racing at the Holderness School (which is also in New Hampshire).
Trees
Sure…you’re not skiing vast alpine bowls out here. Back east, we like our powder served with a pinch of pine. Yes, western resorts have “tree skiing”—sort of. But it’s in glades packed tighter than the drive-thru at Dunkin’ Donuts that you’ll find East Coast skiers getting steep and deep and cutting their teeth. The best in the East make it look easy. Our “spacious” trees still make most westerners pucker.
Powder
Everyone knows all the good powder skiing is out west. Right? Keep telling yourself that. Eastern adventure skiers, especially the ones who know where to look, know better. New England’s powder paradise, Jay Peak, averages 349 inches of snowfall per year. That stacks up with some of the big names out West, like Heavenly, Park City, Bridger Bowl, Arapahoe Basin. And Jay trounces some other western places. Keystone doesn’t even hit 300!
Strength in Numbers
The East Coast might lack the mega resorts of the West. In fact, many of our ski resorts wouldn’t even fill a parking lot at Vail (but they certainly don’t take your lunch money over a parking spot). In the East, skiing soul trumps acreage. We’ve also got strength in numbers. The state with the most ski areas isn’t Colorado. It’s not Utah. Certainly not Montana. Nope, it’s New York with 51! New Hampshire (30), Vermont (25), and Maine (20) all rank in the top ten. And more is ALWAYS better. Duh. As for the diminutive size of some of these areas, we’ll defer to Robert Frost: “Happiness makes up in height what it lacks in length.” (Note: Numbers provided by the National Ski Areas Association website).
History
Skiers in the West like to think they’re the center of the skiing universe. But skiing in the US was born on the East Coast, and the West has been playing catch up ever since. The first mechanized lift was a rope tow in Vermont (it’s still there and skiable today), and the first organized downhill ski race was held in New Hampshire in 1927. New Hampshire is also home to the oldest ski shop in the US. Just for context, skiers were sending Tuckerman Ravine’s Headwall in 1931, more than a decade before the formation of the famed 10th Mountain Division.
Tuckerman Ravine
Speaking of Tuckerman Ravine, let’s face it. When you combine lore, ruggedness, popularity, and character, few (if any) places compete. A descent of the iconic glacial cirque’s puckeringly steep chutes and gullies is a rite of passage. It’s a testing ground. A pilgrimage. In winter, skiers tread lightly on the avalanche-prone slopes—avalanches have killed at least 10 people in Tuckerman Ravine since the 1960s. But come spring and a more stable snowpack, it’s party time (though, admittedly, there’s still plenty of danger, and many visitors are blind to it). Picture A-Basin’s beach if it required an approximately 2,000-foot hike/skin to get to and lunch consisted of watching fellow knuckleheads tomahawk down 50-degree faces. Here’s hoping a wet slide or rock fall doesn’t ruin your backcountry charcuterie!
Go For Gold
When the world turns its eyes on winter sports, it looks east. Winter glory is born in Lake Placid, New York. It’s one of just two destinations to host the Winter Olympics twice, the only in the US. And remember, Squaw and Park City—if you’re not first, you’re last.
Community
Admittedly, blower pow and bluebird skies are relatively rare out East. But that’s what makes it great. There’s a certain grittiness out here. The best days are often followed by the worst days. Conditions vary. The weather makes you grind your teeth. But all those frozen fingers and chapped lips and iced beards bind folks together. To be an East Coast skier is to be par of a wicked tight-knit group. You’ll find core skiers on the mountain at the best and worst of times. This spirit is exemplified by skiers at mountains like Cannon, who love it as much for its negative qualities (frigid, sandbagged, and solid ice) and Mad River Glen (ancient single chair plus minimal snowmaking and grooming) as they do for the powder days.
Still think the West is best and the East is least? No matter. We’ll keep sharpening our edges (and maybe even shaving with them), keeping the soul of skiing alive, and sending our best skiers westward to show the world how it’s done.
Looking for the rowdiest ski runs in the East? Find them here.
