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December, 2006
First Day
By Patrick Abbott
It comes each year but nobody knows when. And it is not the same day for everyone, but those of us who start thinking about First Day on the last day of the season are usually out there in late October. As the temperatures fall, you spend your days analyzing every weather outlet you can. From the Weather Channel website to NOAA. Watching and waiting. Then you see it start to materialize. Maybe it’s coming from the west and dumping snow on the Dakotas before raging across Michigan and the great lakes picking up strength and moisture as it goes, sliding down the St. Lawrence until it slams into the Adirondacks and Vermont’s Green Mountains. But usually this early in the year it comes more from the south a big wet one slinking up the coast and along the Appalachians or coming up the Mississippi, leaving flooded streams in its path. But as it comes at us up here to the northern latitudes its rotation and power draw in cold air from vast Canadian plains and the back side of the storm is transformed from rain to snow. And if you cross your fingers, do the dance, pray and conditions and timing are right it can be a lot of snow.
So each year we wait and we watch and when that snow flies you get a crew together and you head north. And in northern Vermont when you head north, just before you get to Canada, you come to Jay Peak. And what a peak it is, rising over 3,800 feet into the air it catches all the moisture that it can and converts it to snow. Its unique geographic position ensures that it receives the most snow on average of any ski mountain in the east and many out west. Round these parts they call it "the Jay cloud." The experienced folks know when you drive up to the mountain in the pouring rain, and you park at the base in the rain you don’t let the freshmen in the car with all their nay-saying dampen your spirits. You know that less than 200 feet above your heads there is snow falling. As you start your hike north on the Long Trail from Jay Pass the features of the trail that you only hike once or twice a year begin to rush into your head and you start to sample the snow. Kicking it, poking at it seeing what it’s made of. And soon as you gain some elevation the rain changes to snow and the snow changes from wet, heavy cement to light fluffy powder, and it gets deeper and deeper until you come out about four-hundred vertical feet below the summit on the Vermonter, a blue trail with a nice steep pitch, that by now is covered with over two feet of powder. After ten minutes of hiking in brutal winds and blowing snow with 50 feet of visibility out of the white appears the tramhaus. Looming ominously on the summit like a spooky Transylvanian castle it materializes slowly, at first it is just a vague shadow in the blowing snow but as you draw near its features become defined and clear and your heart is filled with joy at the thought of shelter from the storm.
The basement of the tramhaus is open year round as an emergency shelter on the long trail and most of the first day hikers stop in to "get their heads right" before the descent. Inside its cool concrete walls are peppered with graffiti scrolled in charcoal. The usual stuff, initials, some drawings and high on a cross member there is an inscription that my good friend made. It’s a simple message that brings fond memories to all the Jay faithful. It reads something like this; Big J Oct. 16-May 9 2002. That was my buddy Big John’s season "The Big Year", 2001-02. Over 580" fell that year and it was amazing. Big John showed me the way of first day and I have been a faithful follower of the religion ever since. Its mantra is this; "If you hike you get more days in." And as they say it’s all down hill from there. See you on the mountain.
Patrick Abbott is a 27-year-old diplomat. He represents long boarders in negotiations with all other beings. A college student in Vermont on the 10-year plan, he advocates for sharing the road, and running the river. With any time not spent skiing, hiking, boating or skating he's searching for clues at the scene of the crime. He has spent summers in West Forks forever and yes ladies, he is single.
Email nick [at] noumbrella [dot] com with your questions, comments and concerns.
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