Border War! Vermont vs. New Hampshire Skiing Part 9 – Loon Mountain
INCOLN, NH – Day 1 of 2, circa 1:00 pm – It’s not often that one can tiptoe past a sleeping dragon, but occasionally even dragons must doze. And so it was that I caught Ripsaw – Loon Mountain’s ferocious, serpentine-coiled, fire-breathing, double black diamond rejoinder to J.R.R. Tolkien’s Smaug – after it had been groomed. Suddenly defenseless in the beaming afternoon sun, it could only lay helpless as I embraced send after scintillating send and carved one aesthetic line after another over its rugged terrain.
Such is the moment of grace for the expert skier: when you know, beyond all doubt, that no matter what the mountain can throw at you, you’re going to send it back singing.
And so it was that New Hampshire’s Loon Mountain captivated the heart of yet another winter sportsman, as it has since the day it opened in December 1966 with 12 trails, two lifts, and one toilet. 500 people showed up that morning and Loon’s founder, Sherman Adams, showed each and every one of them a grand time.
“Construction on Loon Mountain began in the spring of 1966, and the resort opened for business just eight months later. During those months, Adams reprised his role of walking boss – Pocket John Henry had returned! – cruising the woods mapping trails and managing every aspect of the resort’s construction. Adams even worked in a neck brace for weeks after being hit by a tree trunk in a dynamite mishap. Cue up the old song again:
Work all through the day and work all through the night
Short stops to rest in between
Seldom does he see the light of day
Ten suns unseen…ten suns unseen
News spread through the town, news spread through the state
News spread nationwide
All have come to see John Henry’s hammer
To see what he has done
To see what he has done
And come they did: from Boston to Burlington, and from Bangor to Bucks County, spreading the good news. Loon was wholesome family fun, low impact, inexpensive, and friendly. It was easy to get to – the new I-93 was a straight shot from Boston. And Adams made sure that every guest was treated as thought they were a head of state or visiting dignitary.
Before you could blink, Loon became the darling of New England.
Adams would go on to serve as Loon’s president and general manager for nearly two decades. He remained deeply involved in the day-to-day operations of the resort until he passed away in the fall of 1986 at the age of 87. And from the day Rachel sent him off into the woods until the day he passed on to that Great Above the Treeline Run in the Sky, all winter sports enthusiasts slept as easily as Ike Eisenhower knowing Adams was on the job.”
Posted from JayFlemma.com
