Real Yankee

Small Resorts Still Abound In New England; Just Follow The Trail Of George `Woody' Wood

By SUSAN CAMPBELL
Courant Staff Writer

November 7 2004

Give it to George "Woody" Wood. Without meaning to, last year the power consultant became the New England equivalent of Wendy's restaurants' unofficial spokesman. Based solely on his love for skiing - and a quixotic quest to ski 51 northeast ski areas in his 50th winter - Wood became something of a cult hero to people who were paying attention.

If Wood's stated goal was to ski 51 hills, the unspoken dream was to see if there still exists, in the New England hills, that quintessential Yankee character, the frugal and resolute native who doesn't let a little thing like winter chase him or her indoors.

His odyssey came at an interesting time for the New England ski industry. For slightly more than a half-century, tourism has paid a lot of bills in New England - and in the last two decades, skiing has been a big part of that. But expansion in the heavier-populated parts of New England is difficult, and now ski resorts are left to improve upon themselves, within already defined boundaries.

Wood's quest sprang from a friendly family rivalry. A few years ago, his brother-in-law turned 50 and biked cross-country to celebrate. Last winter, as Wood's 50th approached the following May, he decided he, too, had to do something physical to mark the occasion.

Wood doesn't enjoy cycling that much, but he loves to ski, and as a Maine native now living in Winchester, Mass., skiing seemed an obvious choice. He contacted Greg Sweetser, Ski Maine Association executive director, who began making phone calls to his colleagues in other states to smooth the way.

The first ski-tow began operating in Vermont in the '30s, not long after the continent's first tow went into operation in Quebec. One of the earliest tows was powered by a Ford Model A wheel and run by Woodstock, Vt., innkeepers. As rudimentary as the device was (especially compared to today's heated gondola), the creaky ropes made skiing a reality all over New England. No longer did downhill hopefuls have to walk their skis to the hilltops. Later, the ropes were mostly replaced by chair lifts, which in turn in the late '80s and early '90s were replaced by high-speed and climate-controlled gondolas.

But that last innovation was mostly restricted to New England's larger (and better-heeled) ski areas, and if Wood's research is any indication, New England is still mostly about small resorts with not as many perks but plenty of surprises.

Big skiers, don't panic. For people who prefer the big hills, there will always be places like the massive Killington Resort, owned by the even larger American Skiing Company. A company spokesman there recently pronounced last year's profit from its western holdings (The Canyons, Steamboat) "nothing short of spectacular." And that's from a winter when the eastern weather was far from cooperative. Have no fear: At Killington, Vermont's biggest ski resort, snowmakers went on a month ago.

But New England has a wealth of the smaller resorts in every state save Rhode Island, which boasts just one, at Yawgoo Valley Snow Ski Resort. And what Wood found, as he threw his skis in the car so many weekends, is that skiing is alive and well in New England, and it flourishes most in the smaller resorts like those he remembers skiing when he was a kid.

"I'm obviously biased, if one reads my entries, toward the smaller or mid-sized resorts," said Wood. "But unless you're an expert, double-triple diamond kind of skier, you can go and have a relaxing time at these places with a family or friend at these mid-sized areas that operate at a slower pace."

And despite all the influx of transplants over the last two decades, a New England character still exists. Let Colorado have its Vail. Give New Englanders their smaller, more manageable mountains.

On his website, linked at www.skimaine.com/woody/body.htm, Wood writes of Connecticut's Powder Ridge Ski Area: "This lovely small ski area located in central Connecticut actually greeted me long before I arrived. The voice mail greeting by area manager Gary early that morning received the Odyssey's `most enthusiastic recorded snow conditions report' award. His voice was upbeat, welcoming, without being too sales-y - Gay's greeting made me want to drive right down to take in a few runs and of course visit the bar after the ski day."

Of King Pine Ski Area in New Hampshire: "I was greeted warmly by Kyle who, get ready for this, has worked for King Pine for 57 years - that is the record so far on my trip. It was 3:15 by that time and with the mountain lifts closing at 4:00 I got my photo taken with Kyle and was off to the only active lift."

Nationwide, skiing has enjoyed steady growth for 20 years, say market analysts. It's also enjoyed attendant inflated prices. A lift ticket went from the $10 range to well over $50 in good-sized areas. That money went toward liability insurance, and perks, such as trailside luxury condos.

This year, Okemo Mountain resort in Ludlow, Vt., continues expanding its Jackson Gore area, with an inn and base operation. There are more trails and more snowmaking facilities, including, on the latter, more energy-efficient machines. Historically, environmentalists decried what large resorts did in the way of run-off water, garbage, and traffic. Now, good environmental practices just make sense among the businesses, Sweetser said.

"One of the costs of business is snow-making," he said. "We're trying to do what we can to make snow in less time, and using less energy."

In Maine, the big two areas are Sugarloaf/USA and Sunday River, said Ski Maine's Sweetser. However, the 44-year old Saddleback Ski Area in Rangeley, only 12 miles from the behemoth Sugarloaf, has put $7 million into expansion this year, and next year will invest more than that, Sweetser said.

The benchmark for big, said Sweetser, is usually 2,000 vertical feet of skiing. (A place like King Pine boasts 350, Powder Ridge 500.) "Once you hit that number, it's a good-sized mountain. It will not be a Vail (at 3,450 feet of vertical drop), but they have a lake at the base of the mountains. They have all the ingredients."

For years, many New England communities relied on small rope tows. Until the late '50s, the Hartford Outing Club maintained a run on the west side of Talcott Mountain in Avon. Meriden had a tow rope. So did Manchester and Glastonbury, but it was tough for owners to hang onto local tows to make a few dollars in the winter, when there's multi-millions to be made on house lots. In states like Maine that haven't been hit by the New England land rush, community ski resorts are still booming, Sweetser said.

"The old days when you could open a ski area and put lifts in are gone," he said. "A lot of the [smaller, older] areas were developed by guys who owned the mountains, who were doing logging. They wanted to diversify their operation. If it snowed that winter, we skied. Now, the expectation of consumers is that from Dec. 1 to April 1, conditions are going to be perfect. It's probably a little unrealistic, but I only have one or two little ski areas in Maine that don't have snow-making."

Expansions in the last few years include trailside lodging and multiple services offered at larger New England resorts, including spas and cross-country ski areas and day-care centers. But in many ways, market analysts say New England skiing has reached a limit. There is no more land and no more need to be the biggest or steepest. Smaller resorts are free to concentrate on their own personalities, be it the family programs at Smuggler's Notch in Vermont, or the adaptive skiing and snowboarding programs at Mount Sunapee Resort in New Hampshire. It's what the markets call "branding," and that's fine with Wood.

"I don't want to come across as dissing the big areas, but these are mountains you can cover in a day. These are mountains where the characters worked, those old New England characters. I got a kick out of driving around meeting people, listening to and hearing their stories."

Wood's odyssey began to take on a life of its own. People who kept up with his website began to recognize him. His wife, Holly, accompanied him on a few of the trips, but mostly, he said, "She was tolerant of me spending 23 separate days doing at least one ski area. What I liked about it was the people volunteer during the winter to make a community ski area work," he said.

"One place had a $5 daily ski pass. My sister and I offered to give them money, and the guy operating it that day put that money into a scholarship, for people who couldn't afford the $5."

He especially loved the serious Yankees he met who dress in a mismatch of clothes, whose red hands never seem to get cold, who could repair a snowmaking machine with a wire hanger and a wad of gum.

Wood dreams of turning his web log into a book, or perhaps a "Woody's New England" radio or television program. He'll concentrate on the ski resorts, sure, but mostly, he'll introduce to readers, viewers and listeners the people he met, and the detours that took him into the heart of the region. As great as a long downhill run can be, Wood said he discovered that life is about detours.

Copyright 2004, Hartford Courant