On The Hill with Jeremy Mountain

Windham Wednesday February 5th, 14


This past Wednesday I had the fortunate opportunity to run our weekly trip to Windham. I awoke well before dawn, and as soon as I glanced out the window I immediately had a pit in my stomach. The snow was violently swirling to the tune of the polar vortex and I knew two things were going to happen. First, the trip up to the mountain were going to be less than ideal; and second, that upon arrival at the mountain it was sure to be one of my best days of the season.

After loading up the bus with all of our guests, we embarked on our journey with driver extraordinaire Clay behind the wheel who personally guaranteed me that “this shit is nothing… I could fly the U.S.S. Enterprise through a cat’s asshole.” Feeling confident we charged through the snowstorm under Clay’s steady and hilarious guidance, and made it to the mountain without incident.

Upon arrival I could not contain my childlike demeanor at the conditions. I hurriedly (accurately) handed out the lift tickets and rental vouchers so I could start my day. There was 18 inches of fresh snow at a nearly empty mountain with grey skies dumping snow and temps in the high 20’s. Even better was the fact that the Burton store decided to roll deep that day and the four of them joined me in our conquest of fresh lines.

Now as an Ice Coast rider, I am not accustomed to fresh snow so I was in awe of how significant the change of conditions can affect the day. The ability to huck ollies off of each little divot I saw was a welcome change to the icy conditions I have come to know and love. Also, the forgiving nature of the snow once said ollies went terribly wrong was probably my favorite part… for a good reason


One bail in particular stood out, I was following Jason’s line down a double diamond and watched him pop off of a little lip and disappear. Having no fear of sense of consequence whatsoever I naively popped off of the same lip, only to discover the 12 foot drop beneath me. I momentarily panicked but then remembered the cushion of snow that should break my fall. Luckily I threw my shoulders back and came down tail first only to land in what can best be described as an upper case U. This mini pipe launched me out face first, head over heels, and I proceeded to skid the next 20 feet down the mountain baby seal style, with a huge grin on my face.

The whitewash was disorienting, my goggles fell off, and snow covered my entire body. I should have definitely cut my face up, maybe even broken a few bones but instead just brushed the snow off of myself and continued down the mountain breathing a huge sigh of relief. Eating shit never tasted so good, and I thank Clay and the powder gods that I was able to do it without consequence.

The rest of the day went smoothly, without lift lines we lapped until 4:00, and upon looking at my watch rushed to bus to greet the guests returning to the bus. Fortunately it looked like I took the worst fall of the day, and after a few beers we all fell asleep on the bus while Clay serenaded us with his sweet nonsensical nothings.

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