My Musings

This text is currently hidden by a css change. Alow's me to go directly to the category description because it is editable in the front end,
Font size: +


Picture of a chairlift at Sugarloaf Mountain with very little snow It's All Natural

My youth is pocked and peppered with tiny bits of memories of something called "grass skiing." Sometimes I wonder if grass skiing was really a thing at all, or if it was just a dream I once had, or maybe something I saw online. Except it was the 1970s and there was no "online." It might have been an ad in a newspaper, in the sports section or maybe metro, a small rectangle in the corner on the page otherwise devoted to department store bras. In my memory, there's a person in shorts and a t-shirt, holding ski poles and smiling on a mountain bluff, wearing bright green ski boots.

At the time, I was a young skier, willing to believe that I could extend the joys of winter by skiing in the summer. But this didn't look quite like the skiing I was used to, where your boots are strapped onto boards that slide along slippery, cold stuff. The grass skiing I imagined from the ad I saw was more like strapping skateboards to your feet and rolling in the weeds helmet-free, a recreational sport seemingly designed to wreck knees and cause heads to make contact with large rocks.

I didn't ever ski on grass. I just remember that you could do it at a mountain I frequented in winter, called Labrador.

A recent trip to Sugarbush mountain in Vermont reminded me of grass skiing because although I was there to ski, many of the slopes were covered in carpets of grass rather than snow. The northeast has never had as reliable snow as the Rockies, even when I was skiing in the 1970s, but snow guns help to fill in where mother nature hasn't. You can ski on this fake snow, though it's not quite the same as skiing on the packed powder that forms after white stuff falls from clouds. But one thing you can't do is make snow when the temps are in the 50s. I'll be honest: warm weather in wintertime depresses me, indicating that climatologists haven't been kidding, and that my favorite recreational activity may not survive in these parts past the mid-21st century.

There is still time for this winter to be rescued. Mother Nature could brew up a storm any day, dumping a foot or two of snow on the hills so that the February break isn't a bust. Two big storms is really all we need this year. But in the future, grass skiing may be our best bet. 

The Bitters
Ghosts of Christmas Past


No comments made yet. Be the first to submit a comment
Already Registered? Login Here
Tuesday, 21 March 2023



J'Biden Era Haikuage


People's Arms. That's right!

200 million shots

In 100 days


We are good people

But we still have far to go

Repair. Restore. Heal.


There's nothing new here

The Affordable Care Act

We're restoring it 


America's Day

Democracy is fragile

The world is watching 


Strategy is based

On Science, not politics

Truth, not denial



Subscribe To The Blog

Produce This Audio Play!

Ever wanted to produce a radio play?  Think you have the mettle?  Read on!

Tag Cloud

seasons Dad advice Eating and Drinking Skiing Trump Politics As Usual Yeast Accounting US Senate Reveillon Barber Shops Diseases Golf Canadiana Quebect Roommates I've Had Advertising The future tambourrine Guns and Ammo Texting cornhole Rock Bands Hawaii Stairs Boston Bands I haven't seen Bikes People I know midwinter vacations COVID-19 nukes Higher Education curling shoes Allergies Hache Verde plan mid-winter vacations TV Syracuse The Future Audio Martinis Soul Coughing Ukraine high winds Grass Skiing Sugarbush Mass General Hospital Coyotes Existential Crisis afterlife New England War and Peace My Estate Pats Knots Hurricanes Things I've done Hot Air Balloon vacation Cats Audubon Bar Fiction Work Peacekeeping Ticketmaster Theater Hand Planes punk music Art soapbox rantings coronavirus Tom Waits baseball Rabbit Hole Cornhole star Spoon the band town square China Ketchup Plastic COVID technology Snow Guns Cars 1980s the future Bodysurfing Wind The Old Days Folk Music Biden Belgian Ales Skating Earth My grandparents Brain Surgery My sisters Ice Dancing Climate Change Bob Dylan weather Religion Drumming Bands I've Seen Red Sox Beer My Parents gathering throngs Putin Bands I've seen Communication Channels Mustard Them Kids Imaginings Sports When I die Liz Phair Canada Good Reads Music The Past Spice Girls Bunker Royal Stuff Vaccines NPR Chowder Vaughn Scotch and Sirloin acerbic high school principal Soup Mom and Dad Email the sea Mike Doughty Bicycles Me Christmas Soviet Union Food Eclipse Zoom Weather