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February, 2007
Nick Goes to The Camden Snow Bowl
By Nick Callanan
It had been quite a while since I took the drive out to Ragged Mountain and the town of Camden’s little ski mountain: the Camden Snow Bowl.
But, early in the year 2007, on a clear windy frigid day, there I was, bouncing out past Hosmer Pond in my green Sooby Doo,
After doing a couple donuts in the parking lot (beware the large potholes discreetly located all over the friggin place), I slushed to a halt in front of the A-frame lodge.
My companion headed inside to put on her boots.
“Wimp,” I shouted at her back.
Not willing to break “the code,” I resolved to change into my snowboarding gear outside, as always.
A group of three-and-a-half-foot-tall people appeared from inside the lodge. As they piled into a large, boxy, yellow automobile, I shouted, “how’re the runs?”
“Cold,” they shouted back in their high-pitched voices, without looking in my direction. A taller person hurried them into the boxy vehicle, casting me a curious gaze before driving them away.
After doing the one-foot hop for ninety seconds in the bitter cold, I managed to get my snowboard boots on. When I circled around to the back of the lodge, my companion was waiting for me.
“What took you so long, Code Man?”
I shouted: “I’ll have you know, I just got a brief conditions report from some young shredders.”
“And?”
“That data is reserved for followers of the code only.”
We got in the short lift line for the double chair, one of two lifts advertised as being open that day – the other was a 65 foot rope tow for three-and-a-half-footers. We’d surely hit that up later.
From the chair lift, we saw that the young shredders were spot on with their report. The coastal breeze bit at our exposed flesh.
Luckily, I was wearing three flannel shirts and two pairs of long johns under my Wrangler jeans. Also, I had been smart enough to tie my snot rag around my neck, thereby blocking any offending gusts from tickling my underbelly.
As the chair – free of those cumbersome foot rests, thank goodness – bobbed and weaved in the wind, we looked far to the left. On the ice of Hosmer, we spied the bottom of the Snow Bowl’s famous toboggan chute. Like sumo wrestling, the sport of toboggan racing rewards those humans possessing a greater girth. In the case of tobogganing: fatter equals faster. This truism is evidenced each February at the town of Camden’s modestly titled National Toboggan Championship.
We reached the top of the lift and unloaded. As I strapped my boots onto my board, a rush of memories came back from my childhood days. As a three-and-a-half-foot tike, I spent many afternoons and weekend days here at the Snow Bowl... Though I was not built like a sumo wrestler, I was not interested in anything except going fast. Turning? A literally pointless distraction. I didn’t even bother how to learn. Point ‘em straight was the rule. Snow plowing was only practiced when death was imminent otherwise. Back then, the Snow Bowl did not allow jumping, so all air had to be caught on the sly. And sly we were. I even remember on busy Saturdays, when the Big T-Bar lift was running, skiing from the top of the mountain to tower five – the first unloading station of the T-bar – and waiting for T’s made vacant by gaping beginners taking violent spills at the loading dock at humongous public embarrassment to themselves. Catching these T’s on the fly had a twofold reward: not only did we avoid the long lift lines at the loading dock below, but we also infuriated the volunteer ski patrol members to no end. Ah! What a pack of hooligans were we.
However, on this day, our style was gregarious adherence to Snow Bowl law and order. That and ripping as many turns as possible. There was no need to rush: the terrain was excellent: a consistent packed powder surface, perfect for laying ‘em out. Plus, this being a Wednesday, there was no line. The lift tickets cost just $10; and after one run, the blood was pumping, making the frigid air and tickling gale a non-issue.
Alas, we never did hit up the rope tow, but if you are curious whether or not it is running, visit www.camdensnowbowl.com or call for a un-code-sanctioned conditions report at (207) 236-3438.
Nick Callanan is a whitewater kayaker and snowboarder. He is also a wannabe sommelier, guitar savant and master builder. In the meantime he waits tables and publishes this rag. Give him an earful at nick@noumbrella.com.
Email nick [at] noumbrella [dot] com with your questions, comments and concerns.
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