Mountains are my second home. They are a place I feel comfortable and myself. Not to be cheesy but when I’m skiing I feel one with the mountain. I feel free. Skiing is always and will always be my passion. I will never get sick of the cold winter climate, the layers and layers of thick clothing, and the often long lines, because I love it to much.
Smugglers Notch is the mountain I grew up on. To me, and any other local Vermonter, it’s Smuggs. It’s the place I learned to ski as a very rambunctious 4-year-old. I was ready to learn and I wouldn’t give up on it. I spent many days at the bunny hill with my parents and ski instructors. I couldn’t wait to get on the lift and go down a real trail even if it was a green circle, the easiest of all the trails. I would have to wait many years to graduate to the black diamonds on the larger side of the mountain.
Today, I know many, if not all of the 78 trails Smuggs offers. I do play favorites when it comes to the trails. My favorite type is glades and Shakedown is probably one of my top ten. Something about gliding in and out of the trees brings excitement to me. I love looking up and seeing trees instead of the blue sky. The trees look so elegant, covered in white gowns of snow.
The best kind of day at Smugss is a powder day. When the snow is 4 feet deep it is prime skiing weather. I love to look down at my skis and watch them disappear in and out of the snow. However sometimes the snow is too thick and causes me to take a tumble. But usually I just end up laughing because I can’t get hurt falling into a big fluff of powder.