Lost Ski Areas Of Southern Vermont

Hidden amongst the hills and mountains of southern Vermont are the remnants of sixty former ski areas, their slopes returning to forest and their lifts decaying. Today, only fourteen remain open and active in southern Vermont. Though they offer some incredible skiing, most lack the intimate, local feel of these lost ski trails. Jeremy Davis, creator of the New England Lost Ski Areas Project, looks into the over-investment, local competition, weather variation, changing skier habits, insurance costs and just plain bad luck that caused these ski areas to succumb and melt back into the landscape. From the family-operated Hogback in Windham County to Clinton Gilbert's farm in Woodstock, where the very first rope tow began operation in the winter of 1934, these once popular ski areas left an indelible trace on the hearts of their ski communities and the history of southern Vermont.

The White Mountains of New Hampshire are world renowned for the array of skiing opportunities offered to every skier, from beginner to gold medal Olympian. Today over a dozen resorts entice tourists and locals each year with their well-manicured trails, high-speed lifts and slope-side lodging. But scattered throughout this region, the ghosts of former ski areas can still be found. In the White Mountains alone, sixty ski areas have closed since the 1930s. Author Jeremy Davis has compiled rare photographs, maps and personal memories to ensure that these beloved ski outposts, cherished by generations of skiers, are given recognition for transforming the White Mountains into a premier ski destination.

Some of the northern Adirondacks' most beloved ski areas have sadly not survived the test of time despite the pristine powder found from the High Peaks to the St. Lawrence. Even after hosting the Winter Olympics twice, Lake Placid hides fourteen abandoned ski areas. In the Whiteface area, the once-prosperous resort Paleface, or Bassett Mountain, succumbed after a series of bad winters. Juniper Hills was "the biggest little hill in the North Country" and welcomed families in the Northern Tier for more than fifteen years. Big Tupper in Tupper Lake and Otis Mountain in Elizabethtown defied the odds and were lovingly restored in recent years. Jeremy Davis of the New England/Northeast Lost Ski Areas Project rediscovers these lost trails and shares beloved memories of the people who skied on them.

The Berkshires of Massachusetts have long been known as a winter sports paradise. Forty-four ski areas arose from the 1930s to the 1970s. The Thunderbolt Ski Trail put the Berkshires on the map for challenging terrain. Major ski resorts like Brodie Mountain sparked the popularity of night skiing with lighted trails. All-inclusive resorts--like Oak n' Spruce, Eastover and Jug End--brought thousands of new skiers into the sport between the 1940s and 1970s. Over the years, many of these ski areas faded away and are nearly forgotten. Jeremy Davis of the New England/Northeast Lost Ski Areas Project brings these lost locations back to life, chronicling their rich histories and contributions to the ski industry.

The Adirondack region has long been a favorite of skiers, as its beautiful mountains and deep snow cover provide it with the perfect landscape. Downhill ski areas developed during the Great Depression, when New Yorkers looked for an affordable escape to beat the winter blues. Over the coming decades, ski areas expanded with new lifts, lodges and trails. Despite the popularity of the sport, many ski areas have disappeared, yet countless people still hold fond memories of them. Ski historian Jeremy Davis chronicles the history of these vanished ski areas with photographs and memories from those who enjoyed them, while also paying homage to restored and classic skiing opportunities still available in the Adirondacks.

Imagine Huck Finn "lighting out for the territories" 150 years later, this time as a late-30s corporate dropout turned backcountry snowboarder and mountain climber. Dudeville is a coming-of-middle-age adventure story, set in and all around small-town Colorado during the outdoor sports explosion of the 1990s. Inspired by a wide and wild range of influences -- from Thoreau, Whitman, Muir and Twain, to Jack Kerouac, Edward Abbey and Warren Miller -- Dudeville is equal parts extreme sports tale, male bonding romp, and reluctant love story, a sensuous, lyrical, exuberant exploration of the American West. Dudeville's author, J.D. Kleinke, was a serious health care guy in Baltimore until he discovered snowboarding, hang gliding, jam bands, and the raw spiritual power of life above treeline . . . and moved to Colorado. He is the author of three books about medicine in America, including Catching Babies, a novel about the culture of maternity care and childbirth. He has also been involved in the formation, management, and governance of several health care companies and non-profit organizations. His work has appeared in The New York Times, The Wall Street Journal, and dozens of medical and business publications. He lives with his wife in Half Moon Bay, California, and Portland, Oregon. From Dudeville: "From this summit, the horizon seesaws open into an electric blue dream of Colorado sky. The adolescent swagger and brawn of the Rockies is nothing like the stooped and rounded hills back east. Spiked with mammoth formations of rock and ice, this vast, continental cacophony is the very roof of the world, pushed skyward by geologic time while collapsing under its own weight. I drop in, and surf off the wind-scoured edge, working the margin between transcendent bliss and utter catastrophe, a controlled fury exploding from my core into arcing snowboard turns as I crisscross the fall-line and dissolve into gravity..."

The Berkshires of Massachusetts have long been known as a winter sports paradise. Over the years, many of these ski areas faded away and are nearly forgotten. Forty-four ski areas arose from the 1930s to the 1970s. The Thunderbolt Ski Trail put the Berkshires on the map for challenging terrain. Major ski resorts like Brodie Mountain sparked the popularity of night skiing with lighted trails. All-inclusive resorts - like Oak n' Spruce, Eastover and Jug End - brought thousands of new skiers into the sport between the 1940s and 1970s. Jeremy Davis of the New England/Northeast Lost Ski Areas Project brings these lost locations back to life, chronicling their rich histories and contributions to the ski industry.

In making her selection for Pharos Editions, Dana Spiotta tells us how drawn she was by the work of Raymond Mungo. "[He] writes . . . about his own joy and his own pain, he is particularly good when he describes the land around him and how it feels on his body." Indeed, if Henry David Thoreau had downed a handful of liberty caps before penning Walden it would have read much like Mungo's Total Loss Farm, a rollicking memoir of the late 1960's back–to–the–earth movement. Written in a limber prose style formed by the tempo of the times, Mungo takes us into the cultural tsunami of a failed radical politics as it broke on the shoals of a drug–fueled personal freedom and washed inland across the farmlands of Vermont, leaving a trail of damage and redemption in its wake. Total Loss Farm attracted widespread critical and commercial attention in 1970, when the "back–to–the–land" hippie commune movement first emerged. The book's first section, "Another Week on the Concord and Merrimack Rivers," appeared as the cover article in the May 1970 issue of Atlantic Monthly. The hardcover first edition from Dutton was quickly followed by paperback editions from Bantam, Avon, and Madrona Publishers, keeping the book in print for several decades. Very recently, Dwight Garner in the New York Times Book Review cited Total Loss Farm as "the best and also the loopiest of the commune books."