At age 3, Max likes to find new ways to test snowshoes. (Kate Goodin photo)

6:30 am: I’m lying in bed with a slowly-waking-up Max (aka “Boonie”), discreetly trying to keep his attention away from the windows. I’m not ready to get up yet, and I know something that he doesn’t: it snowed last night. He’s not the kind of boy to take this lightly. A heavy frost gets him excited.

6:45 am: He turns his head. It’s just light enough now that he can tell that the world is white. He’s silent for about a second and then, “Ohhhhhhhh…” He scrambles for the window and leans on the sill, banging his head on the glass. Groggy as I am, I smile as his high-pitched 3-year-old voice squeaks with delight, “Snow! I want to go outside!?” It’s a question, a statement and a plea all at once. Who can deny a child with that kind of passion? “Okay,” I say, “Let’s get dressed.”

“I want to go snowshoeing!”

“I know, Boonie, but you have to get dressed first.”

When to Start

Late last winter we had the opportunity to try out some snowshoes for Max. He was just beginning the transition from riding in a backpack carrier for most of our walks to doing more and more on his own two feet. It was time. Not only is he a strong, active boy, but he’s big for his age, and heavy, and it was increasingly obvious that it would soon be impractical to carry him for long distances. Perhaps more importantly, his independence was blossoming and he was eager to interact with the world on his own terms, inspecting and investigating things that caught HIS attention. This has brought so much wonder to my life; with him in the Ergo backpack carrier we used, I was able to share what I found interesting with him, but now he is an active participant, often pointing out, and asking questions about, things that I have missed, things I wouldn’t have thought to wonder about on my own.

Well before he turned 3, Max was perfecting his snowshoe yoga technique. (Kate Goodin photo)

In the winter of 2010/11, when Max was just two-and-a-half, we had a LOT of snow. My husband Doug plows the yard clear between our house and the barn, where our firewood is stacked. This gave Max a good start at playing outside, but he wanted to know what was going on in the rest of the yard. As soon as he tried to step off the plowed area or off the snowmobile trail that runs through our field, he would stumble, sink, and immediately get frustrated at his lack of forward motion. I shoveled some paths for him early in the year, but this obviously wasn’t a long-term solution. We hadn’t thought that he would need snowshoes so soon, but we knew that Max and snowshoes were inevitable, so we decided to start looking. This may sound crazy, but I like to start him on things before he’s ready. Not TOO much before, mind you; I don’t want to discourage him. But let’s put it this way: I wanted him to be comfortable with the IDEA of using snowshoes before he HAD to use them.

With this in mind, we started looking at what was available that would work for someone as small and eager as Max. It’s apparently not that common for a two- or three-year-old to snowshoe on his or her own, at least not very far. At first, the only snowshoes I could find designed to fit him appeared to be cheesy kid things, and I just wasn’t interested in that. I know my son well enough to know that he wouldn’t be, either. He wants his stuff to look and work like Mommy’s and Daddy’s. This is a kid who, when asked what he wanted for Christmas this year, said “Ummmm …chainsaw!” You get the picture.

Last year, we rented Tubbs snowshoes from EMS for him to try and they worked perfectly. Unfortunately, they changed that particular model and we weren’t able to find any to buy. So we started looking at what was on the market  and found a number of other quality snowshoes designed for smaller kids. The question was, would they fit Max? And could he move independently on them?

Lucky for us, Max is big for his age, and his feet are bigger still. His boots last year were size 10s. For this test,  he’s wearing size 11, so he was able to at least try all the models.

Looking At Kids’ Snowshoes: Do Kids Need Different Features?

Max showing off the rotating toe cord on the TSL Freeze. (Kate Goodin photo)

Choosing snowshoes for adults who know what they want to do on them is difficult enough. Choosing snowshoes for Max seemed even more daunting. For example, adult snowshoes basically come in two forms which, I’ve found, make the snowshoes perform very differently. But this difference isn’t always visible just by looking at the snowshoe. It’s in the “toe cord” which is the connection between the binding, which holds the boot, and the deck, which provides flotation. Adult shoes have either “rotating toe cords” which let the tail of the snowshoe drop as you take a step, or “tight” or “fixed” toe cords which restrict the drop of the snowshoe’s tail to varying degrees. Basically, for adults, tight toe cords are more maneuverable, rotating toe cords work better in deep snow.

We found to our surprise that kids’ snowshoes also offer a third option: no toe cord.  The snowshoe deck is bound directly to the foot. In theory, this should be the most maneuverable of all, and a possible advantage for the littlest snowshoers,

We tried to go into this test of kids’ snowshoes without any preconceived notions of which type of toe cord would work best. Keeping an open mind was not as easy as it sounds. I love my current snowshoes (2006 Tubbs Ventures), but my first pair of snowshoes were awful. They had very tight toe cords and constantly flipped snow onto my legs and back. I came home from every snowshoe trek cold and wet. I tolerated them for several years because I loved snowshoeing and I didn’t know there were options. Based on that experience I can’t think why an adult wouldn’t want a rotating toe cord on a snowshoe for general winter travel, and, in fact, that’s exactly what the entire EasternSlopes.com editorial team recommends. When I got the pair I use now it was like discovering that you could buy a car with a roof on it to keep the weather off you. What a great idea!

BUT, in the case of a little kids’ snowshoe, we saw it was possible for tight toe cords or even no toe cords to have their advantages. The maneuverability is definitely a plus. Kids rarely break trail for themselves for any distance. And when you send a little kid out in the snow, you’d better believe they are going to get it all over themselves, snowshoes or no snowshoes. Since they are probably going to be diving headfirst into it, having a little extra flung at them by their snowshoes isn’t going to matter all that much.

That being said, there are snowshoes for little ones that have a rotating toe cord. Somewhat bizarrely, Atlas touts the increased strength of the steel rotating toe cord on its Sprout 17 model while saying that the model for older kids, the Spark 20, has a fixed toe cord for easier maneuvering. Backwards logic? The question was: would a kid as young as three be able to handle the  maneuverability issues inherent with a rotating toe cord?

We decided to let Max’s experience on the shoes be our guide to what worked.

Binding Adjustment, User Weight and Deck Size

The test lineup, left to right LL.Bean Winter Walker 16, Yukon Charlie Junior, Atlas Sprout 17, MSR Tyker, TSL Trappeur. TSL 302 Freeze, Tubbs Storm, and Mom's and Dad''s snowshoes for size comparison. (Kate Goodin photo)

The other matter of concern was the physical size of the snowshoes and the ability to fit them to little kids. Obviously there’s a balancing act here. Bigger snowshoes are harder for a small kid to maneuver–especially a three year old. But bigger snowshoes will hold bigger kids so you’ll get more years out of your investment. Though 21-inch adult trail shoes will work for larger kids, we confined our tests to real “kid size shoes” under 20 inches long

Boot size is a hugely important factor when choosing a kids’ snowshoe. You absolutely must to be able to make the binding snug on their boot or the deal is off. Because Max has pretty big feet, we didn’t have too much trouble with this. Some of the bindings didn’t fit perfectly, but it was hard to tell whether that was because Max’s boots were on the small end of their range, or if it was just because of the design. I will say up front that if your child’s feet are smaller than size 10, I think only one of the recommended models, the MSR Tykers, will fit. Most of the manufacturers listed size 11 as the low end of the scale, but the few we tried last fall with Max’s size 10s tightened down enough to be perfectly functional.

The whole point of a snowshoe of course is to provide flotation in deep snow, keeping the wearer from sinking to their armpits. There is a lot of variability in what the manufacturers say regarding flotation. One 16″ shoe was supposed to provide enough flotation for 100 lbs, while another model, 3 inches longer, only claimed 90 lbs. I don’t think there’s a formula to come up with these numbers. How much sinking in what kind of snow is acceptable before you say someone needs more flotation? Our recommendation is to look at these numbers as a guideline only. According to the manufacturer’s specs, the weight range for the snowshoes we tested is 60-110 lbs. In general, a bigger deck is going to provide more flotation.

We found three models that worked particularly well for both Max and Mom, and we are giving these our top ratings. A fourth model gets a sort of lopsided thumbs up, and the final three didn’t make us so happy for some very specific reasons which may or may not be important to you and your little one. Our three favorite models are amazingly different from each other and worked well in very different ways. You might find that one particularly suits your child while another might not be as good; you’ll have to assess your child’s size, physical abilities and interest and patience levels to choose among the three. We’ve simply listed the top picks alphabetically by brand because they are so different we can’t really rate one as better than the others. Following those are shoes we didn’t rate as highly for our uses. We’ve tried to give very specific reasons why they didn’t work as well for us. Your child and your circumstances may be different and you may find they would work fine for you.

MSR Tykers: Dimensions: 6.5 x 17, Recommended Boot Size: 7.5 kid’s-4.5 men’s, Recommended Maximum Weight: 90 lbs, Toe cord: direct attachment.

The MSR Tykers are miniature versions of the proven adult model, with a binding that will fit the tiniest foot. (Tim Jones photo)

Two strong points we noticed right away on the MSR Tykers: First, the overall quality. These are not cheap plastic toys. In fact, they are basically the long-proven Denali adult shoe in a kid size. In addition to a lot of weight-carrying capacity, they offer some serious traction as well. Second, the bindings are both easy to use and seriously adjustable; three heavy duty rubber straps with holes to hook over metal tabs. And there are so many holes in those straps that if your little one can walk, you’ll likely be able to get these snowshoes secured on his or her boots. And it’s easy for Mom or Dad to do now, and for the child to do later.

Back to traction for a moment: A lot of the traction material on the bottom of the Tykers is plastic instead of metal. Most parents (me included) would likely be a bit freaked out if they’d made a kid’s snowshoe with as much scary looking metal on the bottom as there is on the adult MSR snowshoe. While the side traction bars are made of the same plastic as the decking, there is still a little metal, and there has to be. The plastic provides enough traction for snow, the metal helps dig in to crust and ice. Unless your wee one is going to be making icy, high-angle ascents, this is serious enough stuff to keep them moving. One caution, however: Because there is no articulation between boot/binding and the deck of the snowshoe, the wearer can’t point the toe crampon into a slope. Going up an icy or heavily crusted slope can be difficult. Keep that in mind if you and your little one climb lots of hills on hard snow.

The thing that really sets these MSRs apart is how tightly the snowshoe is held to the foot.  There isn’t a toe cord at all; in fact, there’s no articulation between the boot/binding and the deck of the snowshoe. If you are concerned about your kid getting tangled and tripped by a snowshoe that swings down and away from the foot, these are an excellent choice. Max performed an unauthorized (Mom note: at least I did not authorize it!) experiment and proved that, with these snowshoes on, when Mom’s back is turned, you can actually climb into a freestanding wheelbarrow without tipping it over or falling on your head. So the snowshoes get an A+ for maneuverability. And because the boot is so tight to the deck you don’t get the snow-catapult action you get with a tight toe cord. Add the bonus that these will fit just about the tiniest foot out there, and overall we’d have to say that these are the best entry level snowshoes for really little ones.

TSL 302 Freeze: Dimensions: 7 x 19 Recommended Shoe Size: junior 11-men’s 6, Recommended Weight: 40-110 lbs Toe cord: full rotating

Logging roads and hunters' trails are our stomping grounds. Max had no troubles with the rotating toe cord. (Kate Goodin photo)

Do not let the wild look of this snowshoe fool you. They really work. We had our doubts whether plastic toe crampons and a few steel nubbins in the back would provide much traction, but they really do the job. Max hiked up a hill with snow-covered ice in spots and never slipped once. (Mom note: What kind of mother am I that I guide my child towards the ice to see if his crampons work? The kind of mother who wants to know if his gear works before I let him get into real trouble on what he’s gonna try anyway…)

This snowshoe was one of only two that had a full rotating toe cord, unusual in a kids’ shoe, for the maneuverability reasons stated above. The first time Max tried these it seemed like it might be a bit of an issue, but not much. The second time, he hiked about a mile in the woods on snowmobile tracks and unpacked trails, through puckerbrush and over logs, and he never had a problem. He ran in them, crossed brooks and stone walls,  played hide-and-seek behind trees. Now, don’t get me wrong. He’s not quite three-and-a-half, but he’s been using snowshoes for a year and has tried different snowshoe models all winter. Be realistic when assessing not just your kid’s age and abilities, but temperament and interest level. If she’s easily frustrated or only tentatively interested, then getting tangled up a few times might just make her want to throw the snowshoes in the closet forever.

TSL’s website says shoe sizes for this model start at girls 13, a retailer says they fit junior 11 to men’s 6; we found that they fit Max’s 11s just fine. The binding on these shoes, like the snowshoe itself, is a bit weird looking, but again, don’t be put off by that. Pull on a tab and slide the heel cup back and forth to adjust the length for the individual boot. Once that is set, two Velcro straps hold the boot in. Just Velcro? Yup, just Velcro. As noted, Max walked a mile, over hill and dale, he crawled, he rolled, and the snowshoes didn’t budge.

TSL lists 110 pounds as the weight limit for these. It’s on the higher end, and one independent website says 90 pounds, but they are 19 inches long, two inches longer than the MSRs, so we can believe they’d give a little more flotation. And even as long as they are, the hourglass shape seems to make it easier for a little kid to walk with what amounts to really big feet.

Yukon Charlie’s Junior Series   Dimensions: 16 x 7, Recommended Shoe Size: none given, Recommended Weight: up to 100 lbs, Toe cord: tight

The Yukon Charlie's in action. (Kate Goodin photo)

The Yukon Charlie’s Junior Series Mountain Goat was the big surprise of the test. This is a really nice all-around snowshoe for kids! It has crampons where it needs crampons, front and back. They are aluminum and that’s more than fine on a kids’ snowshoe. Stainless might last longer but aluminum weighs less and if that means another quarter of a mile, out of him before he says, “Mommmmm…carry me!,” I’m good with that. Probably even more to the point, he isn’t likely to be in too many situations where he’ll be putting a lot of wear and tear on the crampons. When you’re crossing a rocky summit and the bare rock alternates with solid ice…that’s when your crampons really take a beating. It’ll be a few years before he’s on a winter hike of that caliber. Several of the other models we tried also had aluminum crampons, as do my snowshoes.

The toe cord on these is fixed. Does it throw a little snow? Yeah, a little. I see no reason to worry about this on a kids’ shoe. If your kid is anything like mine, no snowshoe can compete with the amount of snow he gets plastered on him just by being out in it. And at only 16 inches, there isn’t as much surface area to collect and throw snow to begin with.

I can’t find any mention of what size boot these Charlie’s will fit. They fit on Max’s 11s just fine.

The super-fast release cord on the binding of the Yukon Charlie's. (Kate Goodin photo)

The binding is super easy, not just to get into, but also out of. When the wearer is only three, “out-of” can be just as important as “in-to”. Emergencies happen.

The Yukon Charlie’s Juniors  are rated at 100 pounds of flotation, which seems a bit high for the 16 inch long deck. But even as big as Max is, it’s going to be a while before he comes close to that. If you are looking for a quality first snowshoe for a little kid, these deserve serious consideration. They have become our go-to shoe for everyday use, and with Max, snowshoeing is an every day activity.

If It Ain’t Broke . . .

Tubbs Storm  Dimensions: 19 x 7, Recommended Shoe Size: junior 11-men’s 6, Recommended Weight: 40-90 lbs, Toe cord: tight.

The new Tubbs Storm is a fine snowshoe--except for the difficult-to-use binding. We liked the old style much better. (Kate Goodin photo)

These snowshoes get a kind of lopsided thumbs-up from us. We’ve tried it in two versions, old and new and our verdict is: This snowshoe was perfect…before they changed it. The traction is great, right where it needs to be. The documentation that came with the shoe says the crampon is aluminum, while their website says it’s all stainless. It looks stainless. The deck gives plenty of flotation for his weight, and is rated up to 90 pounds, so there’s lots of room to grow. The toe cord is tight. With a 19 inch long deck you do get a little more snow thrown than with the Charlie’s, but again…adults may want to be out in the snow without being in the snow, but that’s not so true with a kid.

The primary difference between the old Storm and the new Storm, and the reason for our lukewarm recommendation of the new ones is in the bindings.  The old Storm had a binding similar to the the React binding that’s on my adult snowshoes and it worked perfectly; easy to put on, and it stays secure forever. I believe it is the same binding they still use on the Glacier, for older kids. But someone, somewhere in the universe, decided to “improve” a binding that worked perfectly . . .It’s now a single very stiff plastic strap with a ratcheting buckle that requires you to pinch, push and pull all at the same time to  snug it up adequately on small boots. While the new binding will fit Max’s boots, it ain’t quick or easy. When all is said and done, the bindings keep the snowshoes on, which is the point. But . . . based on our experience, we’d recommend looking for a pair of the older style. Some retailers may still have some in stock or you may find them on the used market.

Thumbs Down . . . For Specific Reasons

Redfeather Youth 20 Dimensions: 7 x 20, Recommended Shoe Size: none given, Recommended Weight: up to 80 lbs. Toe cord: tight

Otherwise a fine shoe, the Redfeathers didn't make the cut because they lacked heel traction of any kind. Max slipped and fell several times on a crusty hill that gave him no trouble on other snowshoes. (Kate Goodin photo)

These snowshoes are pretty neat looking. They are 20 inches long, but part of that length is just tail, so it doesn’t add as much flotation as you might think. Redfeather rates them at 80 pounds.The toe cord is the common fixed style (Redfeather calls it a “live action hinge”). We didn’t get to try them in soft snow, but wouldn’t be surprised if the tapered tail reduced any snow-throwing tendencies. We didn’t encounter any “flip” as we tested these on hard-packed snow. And this brings us to our one complaint with this shoe: Where we live and play, crampons are really important. These shoes are lacking 50% of what they should have. There’s a perfectly respectable toe crampon, but nothing under the heel. And that causes problems.

Using these shoes, Max fell three times in rapid succession on a small hill covered with crusty, packed snow. He’d already negotiated this same hill without any trouble on several other shoes. Based on those falls, we  immediately wrote these off as unacceptable for our needs. Yes, snowshoes were originally designed to keep the wearer from sinking in deep powder, but we all use our snowshoes for a lot more now and hard snow on hills is part of life, especially in the East.

However, if you live somewhere where the snow conditions are more consistently fluffy powder, or you always stay on level ground this might be a perfectly good choice; they are clearly well made.

We also had a minor complaint about the toe cap on these binding, a sort-of folded up rubber the toe of the boot slides into. No matter how they shape it, this type of binding while easy to use, always seems to fit less snugly than other designs, especially with a smaller boot. That being said, the bindings fit Max’s 11s, and the rest of the binding, two rubber straps with many holes (similar to the MSRs), was easily adjustable and easy to put on.

If it had a heel crampon, we’d have found this shoe recommendable.

L.L. Bean Winter Walker 16 Dimensions:16 x 8, Recommended Shoe Size: none given, Recommended Weight: up to 60 lbs, Toe cord: fixed

The underboot plate of the L.L. Bean binding creates a tripping hazard when adjusted to the smallest setting. (Kate Goodin photo)

These snowshoes get some rave reviews from folks on the L.L. Bean website. I can only imagine they are from people with larger kids who don’t have to adjust the binding size to fit a little one. In all the above snowshoes, binding size is either adjusted by simply having a binding that cinches down to fit the boot currently in it (the most basic adjustment I can imagine). In the case of the TSLs, adjusting for larger or smaller boots is a very simple matter: Lift the tab and slide. Takes about five seconds. Tip: do it with an empty boot so you’re not trying to hold your kid’s weight up off the thing you are trying to slide, while trying to slide it.

The L.L. Bean shoes annoyed me right out of the box when I realized that, to properly adjust them, I was going to need a socket wrench and a screwdriver. We tried them without adjusting for length, but found on our first outing that with the heel cap in the “larger “position, Max had almost no weight over the toe crampons, rendering them basically useless.

That meant I was going to have to go the wrench and screwdriver route to have any sense of whether or not the shoes performed well for Max.. Now, I don’t mean to be a whiner, but having little fiddly bits of snowshoe (nuts, bolts, crampons) loose on the living room floor was not my idea of fun, especially with an anxious three-year-old on the prowl… Perhaps it annoyed me in particular because it’s not necessary. Not one of the other snowshoes required me to disassemble the binding to get Max’s weight functionally distributed on the heel and toe crampons.

The real problem with the Bean binding revealed itself only after the bindings were correctly sized for Max’s boots. Once the heel cap was adjusted so that his weight was properly over the crampons, the flat plastic bottom of the binding protruded beyond the tips of his boots, tripping him. After less than five minutes, he’d had it and asked to take the shoes off.

You could cut the excess off the front of the plate, but in so doing you would eliminate the possibility of adjusting the binding when your child grew. With the flotation listed for this snowshoe at 25-60 pounds, it’s not like Max was on the small end of the spectrum of potential users of the snowshoe.

Everything else about this snowshoe is fine and it should work very well for larger kids with feet large enough to use the larger binding setting. It has a fixed toe cord, aluminum crampons at toe and heel—all good. Change the binding to something like the one on the Yukon Charlie’s have and you’d have…well, the Yukon Charlie’s…one of our top choices.

The “Kiddie Shoe” Conundrum

While the other snowshoes we tested were, in essence, downsized versions of adult shoes, the two that follow are clearly designed as “kiddie shoes,” and they simply did not perform as well in our conditions.

Atlas Sprout 17 Dimensions: 6.25 x 17, Recommended Shoe Size: none given, Recommended Weight: 30-80 lbs., Toe cord: Rotating

Snow packed in the bottoms of the Atlas Sprout model. This wasn't a wet snowfall. (Kate Goodin photo)

Some of the snowshoes we tested were as short, or even shorter, than the Sprout, but those all had the bonus of looking, and generally, behaving like a small version of an adult shoe. The Sprout has hard plastic decking, like the MSR Tyker, but the MSR is a mini-version of a well-respected adult shoe. This isn’t.

The Sprout , like the TSL Freeze, features a full rotating toe cord. We found it puzzling that Atlas advertises the fixed toe cord on the Spark 20 model (for older kids, remember) as allowing easier maneuvering and then puts a rotating toe cord on the snowshoe for the younger, presumably less coordinated kids. But be that as it may, Max showed us with the TSL 302 that it’s at least possible for a three-year-old to handle a rotating toe cord.

The trouble with this shoe is similar to the problem we had with the Redfeathers reviewed above. While not totally lacking in rear traction, these have no crampon. The underside of the decking is molded into a snowflake pattern—which makes prints in the snow that your kids are supposed to love, by the way. It provides some traction, but not enough for our conditions. And, worse, even in dry snow (at least by eastern standards), we found that the whole bottom of the snowshoe filled up like a cookie cutter with the cookie still stuck in it. This wasn’t in super dry powder, but here in New England we have very variable snow conditions. We might have cured the problem buy spraying the underside of the deck with silicone spray, but that shouldn’t be necessary. Frankly we don’t want snowshoes that don’t perform admirably in, at the very least, most of the conditions we are likely to encounter.

Atlas rates these snowshoes at 80 pounds of flotation. The binding was OK. The toe cap didn’t fit as snugly as others, but it seemed fairly secure and was pretty easy to put on. They don’t mention what boot size it is supposed to fit, but say that the snowshoe is recommended for ages 4-8.

Atlas also makes the the Spark 20, which we did not review. It looks like a miniature version of an adult shoe with front and rear crampons, fixed toe cord, and 120 pound maximum weight. In retrospect, this model would have been more comparable to the others in the test. We intend to test this model as soon as possible. It has the same binding as the Sprout, meaning it should work reasonably well with Max’s boots.

TSL Trappeurs  Dimensions: 20 x7, Recommended Shoe Size:10.5-4, Recommended Weight: 30-65 lbs., Toecord: tight

Max showing off the tails of the TSL Trappeurs. Unfortunately, they easily tangle in the slats of the decking. (Kate Goodin photo)

The TSL Trappeurs looked, on paper, like they might be a good first snowshoe for little kids. They mirror the shape of old-style snowshoe designs, including tails, but they are molded of an extremely rugged plastic that will stand up to hard “kid use.” When we first tested these last season, we went out in after a late-winter storm with no concerns about him getting in the mud where it was exposed. The snowshoes are very simple and plastic and muck rinsed off easily before we put them away.

The recommended weight range for the TSL Trappeurs is 30-65 pounds. The bindings on these are super-simple, just a rubber galoshes-type toe with an elastic heel loop, and should fit boot sizes 10.5 – 4. For some kids this might be great as they would be able to easily put on their own snowshoes as long as they had the finger strength to pull the sturdy rubber. Max. like most kids, likes to do things on his own; and that increases his desire to participate. But we found that, while the simplicity of this design is a great idea, the rubber is, by necessity, such a tight fit on the boot that we can’t imagine a little kid being able to pull it on all by himself or herself. Once they are strong enough to deal with the Trappeur binding, they are probably ready to figure out and use a more “complicated” design.

When Max was two-and-a-half, he had one issue with these snowshoes. He frequently tangled the tails in the lateral perforations in the decking. That long, skinny tail kept catching in the other shoe and tripping him up, which he found frustrating. An older kid with more experience just-plain-walking might not have so much trouble, but since these are supposed to be for little kids…

Our other concern with this shoe was traction. With three rounded-off metal points, two under the ball of the foot and one under the heel, they offer some traction, but it doesn’t compare to our recommended models above. On perfectly flat ground or always in soft snow, this might be fine, but I challenge you to stay on soft snow and flat ground while tramping in the woods in New England.

While it looks simple and cute, these shoes are too simple and too cute to really function. We felt that they would end up disappointing and frustrating a child rather than encouraging him or her to really develop a love of snowshoeing. Fortunately, TSL also makes the excellent 302 Freeze, a much better investment if you want serious snowshoes for your child.

The Takeawy

What’s really amazing in this whole test is that we found so many quality snowshoes for  kids. We proved that, literally, if your child can walk independently, you can choose snowshoe options that will work. Even the snowshoes we didn’t particularly like for our uses were well made and would likely suit someone else. In other words, you definitely don’t have to settle for cheap junk, nor do you need to spend a fortune to get snowshoes that will keep your child smiling and happy on snow until he or she is ready for adult-sized shoes.

Bon Jour! Comprenez-vous Anglais? Thank goodness, because that is the extent of my French besides “fromage” and “la bière s’il vous plait”. While I always plan to learn at least basic conversational French before making a trip north of the border, I typically get distracted with trip plans instead. There was no difference while planning my trip to the Gaspé Peninsula of Quebec in February of 2011. This would be my 3rd trip to the Chic-Choc mountains to partake of some of the best backcountry ski terrain outside of the White Mountains.

The summits of the Chic-Chocs may be flat, but the slopes that lead up to them aren’t. (Brett Lund photo)

This trip would be different from past trips. I wanted to venture deeper into the Parc de la Gaspésie to explore some terrain farther away from the better traveled roadside attractions I had skied previously. Secondly, I was going to take this trip alone versus with a backcountry ski partner. Little did I know that David, our associate editor would be backcountry skiing and snowshoeing in the Gaspésie the following weekend, though he had much swankier plans (is that a real word? I’m too cheap to know . . .) The Gaspésie and the Chic-Choc mountain range lie near the tip of the Gaspé penninsula, which is the thumb shaped peninsula that sits directly below the mouth of the St. Lawrence River. These are the northernmost mountains of the Appalachian range, and unlike the Appalachians of New England, they have expansive plateaus with a lot of terrain above tree line. The proximity of this highland land mass to the waters of the Saint Lawrence, and, to its south, the Baie-des-Chaleurs mean that the Chic-Chocs get copious amounts of snow. The northern latitude ensures that this snow stays consistent and bountiful. Each time I travel to the Chic-Chocs I am happy with the snow cover, even when New England is starved for snow. Especially when New England is starved for snow!

To plan my trip I searched the SEPAQ website (the Quebec Park system). This is really a wonderful website with informational links to all of Quebec’s parks and their amenities. One of these days I may even be tempted to travel to another part of Quebec but for now I still have too much to explore in the Gaspésie. Initially I focused on 2 possible destinations to ski within the Park and adjacent nature reserve. One of the destinations was Mont Logan, which is in the westernmost portion of the park. Getting there would mean a mandatory 5 day loop, with 2 days at a hut near Logan. Mont Logan would be the best opportunity to make some fun and maybe steep descents, and it looked spectacular.  However, there were also rumors of avalanche risk at that point…hmmm.

The other option was an area called  ”Mines Madeleine”, which was highly recommended by backcountry skiers as an excellent destination with a good variety of terrain. According to all information, there was no lack of steep or tree skiing opportunities in this area as well. Due to the level of uncertainty around the Logan tour, and the need to spend 2 days touring to get to good vertical terrain, I opted for Mines Madeleine. I wanted to get to Logan, but I also did not want to trek into the woods for 3 days only to have avalanche hazard keep me from skiing. I love to tour, and there is plenty of touring to be had in the Gaspé, but I really like to go downhill. I had planned to do a couple nights in the park system huts, and a couple of nights tenting. This would allow me some flexibility in traveling, but would also help to keep costs down.

My home for the first night, a sturdy 3-person winter tent from LL Bean. It offered plenty of protection from the weather, but i was worried about a moose stepping on it. (Brett Lund photo)

I booked 2 nights at the Mines Madeleine hut, and planned to camp en route to the hut on the first night I arrived in the park. The drive to the Gaspé is a long one, fully 12 hours from the Concord, NH area. Maine can seem to go on forever, but at the same time this is a lovely drive, especially when you get to Quebec. You could go straight north and stop in Quebec City and out from there. (see the “swanky” article previously mentioned), but I prefer to drive through Maine, then short cut across New Brunswick to the beginning of the Gaspé peninsula. The drive along the Baie-des-Chaleurs is beautiful, with lovely coastal towns. After an hour or so of coastal  driving a left turn brings you north toward the Parc de la Gaspésie. Even in the dark pulling into the Chic-Choc mountain range is impressive. The snow is always piled high and the trees are caked with it like giant popsicles.

I arrived at the Parc Headquarters at 8:30 pm on Sunday, and immediately inquired about potential campsites or shelters along the way to the Mines Madeleine. Unfortunately and unbeknownst to me the Parc has very strict rules about camping outside of designated areas, and in winter the only tenting allowed is a half mile from the Park Headquarters. I leased a tentsite for the clear and starry night, found a nice site that had been packed down a bit. There, I put down my tarp, and set up the winter tent I had been asked to review. The LL Bean Backcountry Dome 3 was easy to set up and very roomy for one person (yes, we’ve had people take it out with 2 people and been happy with it, as well). After getting myself situated, I had to make one more quick run to the car for my toothbrush. As I rounded the corner of the tentsite trail, two large forms came walking out of the woods, not very gracefully either. Two huge moose, who, thankfully, were afraid of my headlamp. They wandered across the trail and back into the shoulder-deep snow and through the woods. I was hoping that they wouldn’t stumble through my tentsite during the night, or decide that nylon tasted good.

My House! Comfortable, and no moose came calling. (Brett Lund photo)

The following morning when I woke and began to pack, I noticed that these same two moose were in a nearby campsite. I have been around moose many times, including when they ambled through my campsite a few feet from my tent at 2 in the morning near Mount Carrigan in the Whites. Despite many pictures from previous encounters I felt the need to try to”sneak up” on them to take a picture of the large female moose and her yearling munching on the vegetation near the edge of the campsite. Just as I rounded the corner to snap a picture, the young moose, who was broadside to me, wheeled and started running toward me. Now, moose are big and look slow, but they can get moving quickly. I think Carl Lewis would have been impressed with my aceleration. Thankfully the yearling stopped, but I am sure that he had a good laugh with his moose friends about the old guy sprinting down the trail.

I had a long slog out to Mines Madeleine and wanted to get an early start. At  Park Headquarters, I checked in quickly with the front desk and was advised that I should indeed get started as my trek would be long and uphill. I had borrowed a Nordic Cab pulk from our Executive Editor, planned to load my backpack and other necessities into the pulk and tow it to the hut. A “pulk” is essentially a trailer for humans. It attaches with a waist belt, and two slender poles back to a sled. I would be traveling on Telemark gear with skins.

The long trek to Mines Madeleine started the real adventure. (Brett Lund photo)

The track to Mines Madeleine is basically a park road that is not plowed in the winter. The park services shuttle gear to the hut via snowmobile, and some group outings on snowshoes are brought out the 12 miles for better views and solitude. The day was beautiful and while it was cold (around 20) I quickly began to warm under the bright blue skies.

The accursed Pulk! It enticed me to take more gear than I really needed and slowed me down too much. (Brett Lund photo)

The grade was a fairly steady climb all the way to Mines Madeline, with a few short downhills. While the pulk was easy early, the longer I trekked, the more tired and frustrated I became. I found myself working much too hard to tow the pulk and wishing I had just stuck to my 5000 cubic inch backpack. Whenever you have more room to bring gear you will fill it, usually with crap you really don’t need. Those “extras” in the pulk were killing me by late afternoon. For the last mile of the slog a snow squall kicked up, and I wound up getting to the hut about an hour before dusk, frustrated and exhausted.

The Mines Madeleine hut was a welcome site after a long day. Warmth awaited inside! (Brett Lund photo)

The Mines Madeleine hut is an old mining crew bunkhouse, and was well equipped with a woodstove, running water, and a bathroom. Upstairs were beds for 14 or so people in a relatively open space, divided by half walls. It is very inexpensive to stay, a little more than 20 dollars per night. I was there alone for about an hour and took a nap until awakened by a young couple from Montreal who were touring from another nearby hut (the Gaspésie has many backcountry huts that can be rented and toured on cross country skis). They would be my only company this evening.

Getting ready to return to the hut.

Though it was dark, I wanted to venture further up the trail to get a view of my surroundings. There was still a bit of twilight lingering, and though the snow was still blowing I put on my head lamp and skis and headed uphill. The service road runs to the top of Petit Mont Sainte Anne,and I went about half way up before turning back to the lodge. I stripped off my skins and had a fun solo run in the dark back to the hut by the light of my headlamp. The trail was smooth and about 15 feet wide, and I could see the distant glimmer of the lights in the hut as a reference. Otherwise I was alone in a sea of blowing snow. It was simply spectacular. I returned to the hut, prepared dinner and chatted a bit with the couple before retiring for a long and welcome sleep.

The next morning I woke early to a partly cloudy day with blowing and drifting snow. After breakfast I said my goodbyes to the young couple and set out for the summit, packing lunch and planning to explore. My plan was to summit, then continue across the plateau to Mont Comte and Mont Jacques Cartier to see if I could find some skiable terrain a bit farther away. I had read on many web blogs that Mines Madeleine apparently had a lot of terrain right outside the hut door, but due to the blowing snow I couldn’t see it. I wanted to find somewhere that was more wind protected.

Halfway up the trail, a pause for a beautiful view of what I hoped to ski. (Brett Lund photo)

This plan would require about 4-5 miles (one way) of travel and route finding across the plateau. As I climbed toward Petit Saint Anne the new snow hung precariously on steep slopes above me.  I stayed on the road to minimize my exposure, and felt generally safe because there were many trees anchoring the new snow. Once I reached the top I was well above treeline and I knew right away that summit travel would be difficult and my plan would likely have to change. I was blown over several times by 80-90k gusts and had a very difficult time seeing my hand in front of my face. I pressed on for about 3/4 of a mile before I realized that route finding was simply too risky in these conditions, especially alone in unfamiliar terrain. It was cold, and the wind chill was substantial.

Caribou tracks! I knew they were close, but they can hide and I never saw the animals! (Brett Lund photo)

I paused by some caribou tracks (the Gaspésie is home to the southern-most herd of caribou in North America). They were fresh and the animal was likely close by watching me, though I could not see it. She knew where she was going. I didn’t. I returned to the summit trail, stripped off my skins and began the long winding decent to the hut. I didn’t realize how cold I had become on the summit, so I was glad to return to the warmth of the hut. The couple had left, but two Parc Snow Rangers were inside warming by the woodstove. They were evaluating the avalanche hazards in the area following the new snow. We discussed conditions for the day, and all agreed that, with the blowing snow, the local bowls would be unstable and dangerous. Not that we could even see them anyway! I asked if they could recommend some good low angle tree skiing close by, and they directed me back down the trail to a side road used by SkiChicChocs, a local cat skiing operation.

A break from the wind! The area around the snowcat operation was choked with snow! (Brett Lund photo)

About  kilometer down the road, I found a turn for the snowcat operation. Another kilometer or so through the woods brought me to a snow covered snowcat, at the bottom of what appeared to be a narrow road going up. This road actually led up the other side of Petit St Anne from where I had been in the morning. It was much more sheltered in the trees than near the hut, and I was able to gain quite a bit of vertical in short order. The trees were loaded with snow, and I could see steep chutes through the trees to my left, down into a drainage. While it looked appealing, I didn’t want to ski steep trees while alone, especially with no one at the hut or within many miles, so I stuck to the road and safety.

It was a nice pitch down through shin deep powder, and where I could get enough speed up I ventured through the trees on the edge of the trail. I took 3 loops before my weary legs told me to wrap it up. I put on my skins for the climb back to Mines Madeleine.

When I reached the hut a friendly and athletic group of backcountry tourers from New Brunswick had just arrived. They traveled in from a nearby hut, and had an adventureful ski on the way. Many falls and a lot of laughing. Skiing on cross country gear, and carrying fairly large packs, they took a beating but had a blast. They showed me many pictures of their faceplants. We chatted into the evening over wine and dinner. They were well prepared and had a snowmobile deliver a “restocking” of wine and a birthday cake for one of their party. What a wonderful way to spend a birthday!!

A ridge above Mines Madeleine, deep snow everywhere! (Brett Lund photo)

I planned to leave Mines Madeleine early the next day if the weather had not changed. If the weather was better and the snow had stabilized, I would take another trip up Petit St. Anne for some touring and descents. I slept hard that night, and woke before the sun. The wind of the past two days had abated, and I dressed quickly, made some tea and oatmeal, packed my bag and went out the door just as the sun began to crest the hills. For the first time in 36 hours I could see the terrain around the hut, and it was spectacular. The ski opportunities were limitless, enough for many days of fun, but  I had to leave that day. Grabbing my skis and backpack I made for the summit to get in as much skiing as possible while I could.

A path through the trees. Bonjour soft beautiful snow! Pure bliss! (Brett Lund photo)

Checking for snow stability.The recent wind loading left several hard slab layers that made skiing this angle unsafe. (Brett Lund photo)

It was a sunny morning, with bluebird skies, and I knew that I wanted to get some skiing in before I left. I assessed the “tube” which is the most obvious line off the hut side of Petit St. Anne, and after digging a hasty snowpit found a weak snow slab that made this aspect (the direction the slope faces) too scary, so I opted for a lower angle and slightly different direction off the summit which had softer snow, and finished through some nice snowladen trees.

While I was disappointed not to be skiing the bowls and gullies, this was the safer choice and still spectacular skiing. After a few laps, and one run down the shoulder of Petit St. Anne I realized that I needed to pack up and start my trek. Around 11:30 I descended the trail I had taken to the summit, and ducked through a short stand of pine trees to get my last fix before I needed to grab my gear, load the pulk and start the long trek out.

The shoulder of Petit St. Anne

I wanted one more night at the tentsite, and a day skiing Champs de Mars, before heading back to New Hampshire. Headed out on the long push back to the car, I was hoping that the pulk woud be easier to manage going mostly downhill. Much to my chagrin, and largely due to the new snow, the pulk acted like an anchor all the way back, so no rest for the weary.

Five hours later, I made it back to the car, and drove back to the campground to pitch the tent. I did not see my moose friends that night, but had more time to cook a proper dinner. I also had more time to evaluate the 3 man LL Bean tent, which functioned very well. It assembled easily for a large tent, and ventilated well during the night, keeping me comfy and dry, and the design is bombproof.   That’s of real importance in a multi-night trip in an area like the Gaspésie, where heavy snows can fall at any time. As a bonus for cheapskates like me, it’s also one of the most affordable 4-season tents out there; the tradeoff being that it’s somewhat heavier than the higher end versions. The following morning I made breakfast, packed my car and drove a short distance  to one of the easy-to-reach and very rewarding roadside backcountry skis.

Champs de Mars at its best! (Brett Lund photo)

There are several daytreks for backcountry skiing just down the road from Parc headquarters…Mt Hogsback, Champs de Mars, Mont Blanche La Montagne and a slightly longer trek to Mont Albert. Within the Parc, skiing is limited to particular zones, primarily due to the caribou herd preservation. Champs de Mars and Hogsback are the easiest to get to in a short period. For a longer day trek, the runs on Mont Albert are great fun, but I didn’t have time. At Champs de Mars, I quickly set skins to skis and began the 2 kilometer trek up a winding trail to the summit.

About two thirds of the way up, a cleared birch glade seduced me, and I took a nice run about halfway back down the mountain. Then I skinned up again and continued to the top. At the summit I took in the beautiful views; as the cloud cover lifted I could see Blanche le Montagne and other peaks in the distance. I set off down the center snowfield, and had knee deep turns all the way to the bottom. It was too good, so I skinned up one more time and this time went as far right as I could, weaving through patchy trees and tops of scrub pine. Two top to bottom runs on stable and soft snow with the mountain to myself….could not have been more perfect.

Hard not to get excited as you take off the skins and prepare to ski all this untouched powder all by yourself. (Brett Lund photo)

It was approaching noon and  knew I had a long drive ahead of me. I took a cut-through trail to the summit trail, then skied part of the birch glade one more time, finishing through some narrow pines and chutes at the bottom.

What a great way to end the trip! As I was loading into my car and getting ready to leave the lot a large party arrived, and we exchanged knowing smiles and a nod that said it all. “Was it good?” “Oh Yeah, its good…go get it!!!”  My Gaspé adventure was finished, theirs about to begin.  How about YOURS?

Soft snow, and more of it than expected, brightened a gray day at Bolton Valley. Bolton is one of the "overlooked gems of Eastern skiing. (Josh Arneson photo)

Even though Bolton Valley is right in the heart of Vermont ski country and only a short drive from Burlington, skiing there gives you what I might call “hidden gem feeling.” It is off the beaten path, the skiing is great, and it feels like a much bigger mountain than it actually is. It’s the kind of middlin’ big ski area with huge character that we at Eastern Slopes love discovering, and love to keep rediscovering again and again with each visit.

I recently rediscovered Bolton after not having skied there since 1997. My mistake. The last time I was there, my dad, my brother and I had stayed in one of the slopeside condos and had awoken to a sunny, glistening powder morning. We must have skied every trail on the mountain that day, and most of the woods too, in snow up to our knees. My brother and I had spent the best part of that epic day in Devil’s Playground, a “steep and deep” glade area that compares very favorably to anything offered by more-famous Stowe and Jay Peak.

Sadly, the conditions were not supposed to be quite so good on this particular Monday afternoon when I drove up to Bolton to make a few tracks. The weather called for icy drizzle all day, but it wasn’t raining, I had a day off and make a policy of always trying to go skiing even if the weather looks slightly iffy. Usually, conditions are better than expected, and this day was no exception. Fortunately the rain decided to hold off and I enjoyed a warm day (for January in Vermont) with nice soft snow.

Only the Vista Peak chairlift was open, which is typical during non-vacation weeks. But there was still plenty of great skiing to be had. Normally, the top of Vista Peak (3,150 feet) offers a spectacular view of Camel’s Hump, but this day the peak only offered the kind of pea-soup fog that makes it difficult to tell which way is up and which way is down. Bolton is one of the few ski areas in the east to generate some of its own electricity with a giant wind turbine near the top of the lift. I could barely make out the blades, which were spinning at a good clip in the wind-blown fog.

Like almost everyone else I know (and maybe you are in this sad group), I have not skied as much as I would like to this winter. I was feeling a bit unsteady on my Telemark gear so started the day with a cruiser run down Alta Vista, to skier’s right from the top of the the Vista Peak chair. The snow was smooth and easy to edge, thanks to great grooming and some fresh snow over the past few days. From Alta Vista, I was able to cut over to several of the trails on Wilderness Peak, and had an absolute blast. Swing and Bull Run are marked as beginner trails, but they are relatively narrow, have a nice, sustained pitch for carving and twist and turn pleasantly through the trees. Nice, mellow warmup ride on Tele gear .

There was plenty of snow to allow you to sneak into and out of the woods at the edges of the trails, and even enough for some real glades skiing if you didn't mind the occasional rough spot. (Justin Jones photo)

On my next lift ride I took Mousehole to Fanny Hill, an even narrower and windier run. Suddenly I was reminded of what is so wonderful about Bolton—it’s pure old school. If you are a purist (like me) and judge a ski area primarily by its trails, you will find a lot to love about skiing at Bolton Valley. It feels like a step back in time.  The mountain has the kind of long, twisting runs that truly make for classic New England skiing. The trails are cut to follow the terrain, not the needs of a grooming machine, turning and dipping unexpectedly through the forest that, on this day seemed dark, ghostly. I was having fun skiing the little whoop-de-doos off the side of the trail ducking in and out of the woods and making turns on the berms on the side of the trail. I noticed other skiers and riders doing the same. Bolton allows its trails to stay a bit wilder than many areas, which makes the skiing a total blast. It feels like you are WAY out in the woods and then, all of a sudden, you are back at the base village.

After a few warm up runs, I had a great run down Showoff, a black diamond which more or less parallels the chairlift. Some of Bolton’s runs are really steep! Even on the steepest pitches the snow was great. In Northern Vermont, even on a year like this when the rain is outgunning the snow, Bolton still had great snow coverage. It really helps to have a few inches of snow every couple of days, which Bolton has had over the last few weeks. An inch or two of snow several times a week eventually adds up to serious snow cover, even without the big snow dumps that get people cranked.

I tried the glades off Vista Peak, and found that there was enough snow for fun, even if there were a few rough patches here and there. Cobrass, another fun trail that swoops out to skier’s left, had quite a bit of grass showing, but, personally,  I would rather see a couple bare spots on an open trail than a “closed trail” sign and a rope on a trail that’s mostly well-covered.

All in all, it wasn’t a blue sky, fresh powder kind of day, but it was still a perfectly enjoyable day on the slopes. Bolton is a charming area with a great base village, and some of the cheapest slopeside ski and stay packages around. It also has extensive night skiing for as little as $19 (on Saturdays). If you want a back-to-basics ski experience with great terrain and minimal crowds, well, Bolton is waiting. . . .

Frame, filler, binding and cleats, the four major components of a modern snowshoe. (Tim Jones photo)

There are lots of modern snowshoes on the market these days and the variety can be confusing—especially since most look a lot alike. Different shoes with different features are better for different jobs, and picking the right ones for you and your needs can be challenging.

By the way, we are only dealing here with “modern” snowshoes. There are some older designs out there that still work, and if you already own them and like them, go out and have a ball. Wooden snowshoes, for example, are lovely to look at, and still float you on top of the snow. But like wooden boats, they are mostly used by traditionalists who appreciate the aesthetics and craftsmanship inherent in working with wood. This story is for people who are buying their first snowshoes or looking to upgrade older models to something with, perhaps, more performance and practicality. And we are going to focus entirely on snowshoes for the east, where we have more hills than mountains and snow that can range from boilerplate blue ice to deep soft fluff–often on the same trail on the same day.

The way to begin sorting out snowshoes is to imagine what, specifically you are going to do on them and, to some extent, where you are going to do it. As we see it, there are two general categories of snowshoes; there’s no official name for them, but, for lack of better terms, let’s call them racing/running, and backcountry/general use.

Little bitty snowshoes that don’t flop around are a real advantage when running on packed trails, not so good in deep, untracked snow. (Tim Jones photo)

Racing/running snowshoes are designed primarily for aerobic workouts and are almost always better used on packed or heavily crusted snow. Backcountry/general use snowshoes will go anywhere; they are the ATVs of the winter world. Real backcountry shoes are designed primarily for use in untracked snow and a variety of conditions, including wearing a backpack and dealing with steep slopes and sidehills. Not surprisingly, shoes that work well for racing/running tend to be awful for backcountry and vice versa. If you want to go running on snowshoes for exercise in winter, and you also want to put on a pack and go exploring the untracked, you are going to need two pairs of snowshoes.

You’ll very often see a category of snowshoes labeled “recreational.” This is a catch-all title for “value priced” snowshoes that don’t have all the features of top-of-the-line snowshoes. But the truth is there are “recreational” snowshoes that are better for running/racing and others that are better for backcountry/general use. You just need to recognize the differences.

Where things get confusing is that manufacturers often aren’t clear about what a snowshoe is best for. Their job is to get you to buy their snowshoes, so of course they make the ones that are best for everything, right? In our experience, even the salespeople at outdoor shops (and, apparently, some journalists who write about snowshoeing) are sometimes fuzzy about the finer points of snowshoes. So your best strategy is to learn all you can, ask lots of questions, and try as many snowshoes as you can before you buy. The more you know about yourself, what you want to do and what works for you, the more likely you are to find the right snowshoes for you on the first try.

A full rotating toe cord lets the heel of the snowshoe drop freely to shed snow from the deck--very useful in deep snow. (Tim Jones photo)

The first key to categorizing snowshoes is in how the binding (the part that holds your boot) is attached to the deck (the platform that keeps you from sinking into the snow). Here’s how you tell in an instant if a snowshoe is going to be better for running/racing or backcountry/general snowshoeing: simply pick up the snowshoe by the binding. If the tail of the snowshoe immediately drops without resistance (imagine the tail of the shoe staying on the snow as you pick up your foot), that’s a backcountry/general use snowshoe. If the tail of the snowshoe wants to lift along with the binding, that is the hallmark of a snowshoe that’s better for running/racing and use on packed snow. We’ll explain these distinctions more clearly in a moment.

The other key characteristic is the size of the deck. Basically, a larger snowshoe provides more flotation but weighs more. Racing/running snowshoes are usually as small and lightweight as possible. Remember, they are generally used on packed trails, so flotation isn’t as important. While some “general purpose” snowshoes are quite small (for smaller, lighter people who don’t carry a heavy pack and don’t break trail in deep snow), most “backcountry” snowshoes are larger to provide more flotation.

You’ll notice we haven’t talked at all yet about materials. Frankly, we’ve tried great snowshoes with aluminum frames and synthetic decking, and great snowshoes molded of composites or plastic. That’s a matter of preference. Then there are details like ease of binding use, amount and placement of traction, extras like heel lifts. All those are decisions you’ll have to deal with eventually before you  plunk down your hard-earned cash. But the key to finding the right snowshoe is starting in the right general category for what you want to do.

A "tight" or "fixed" toe cord lifts the tail to the shoe when the boot is lifted. This keeps the snowshoe from flopping forward when running but can also flip snow up onto the wearer. Some toe cords are tighter than others; these are about mid-range, (David Shedd photo)

The Toe Cord Conundrum

The point of attachment between the binding and the deck on a snowshoe is technically called the “toe cord. ” The term is a  holdover from the days when snowshoes were made of wood and rawhide and the feet were held to the shoe by, well, cord. As noted above most modern snowshoes for adults come either with “rotating” or “pivoting”  toe cords (also called “axles” by some manufacturers), which allow the snowshoe deck to pivot freely and the tail of the snowshoe to stay on the snow while you lift the toe, or “tight” (sometimes called “fixed”) toe cords which hold the deck more firmly so the tail drops only a little, if at all, when you pick up the shoe.

Tight/fixed toe cords work best on hardpacked snow and are especially popular with snowshoe racers/runners because the tails can’t flop forward as you run (which can easily trip you up). But they have three huge disadvantages for general use in a variety of conditions. First, you must always pick up the weight of the entire snowshoe and any snow that’s on it with each step. That can get tiring quickly, especially in deep, heavy, wet snow. Second, tight toe cords have a nasty tendency to flip snow up with each step onto the user’s legs and back (and even down the back of your neck). Nice for keeping you cool in a race, not so good for staying dry and comfortable on a long wilderness trek in untracked snow. One of the major snowshoe companies calls their tight toecord a “live action hinge.” One of our testers who has tried these particular snowshoes calls them “wicked flippahs.” And third, in deep snow a tight toe cord tends to make it more likely that the tip of the snowshoe will get caught as you step forward (particularly under a crust), which can make YOU the “wicked flippah”!

The tails of these larger snowshoes stay on the snow when you lift the tip to take a step. That lets any snow on them slide off. They work well on crust as shown here but even better in untracked snow. (Tim Jones photo)

By contrast, rotating toe cords allow the tail of the snow to drop so snow slides off with each step, which also causes the tip to easily lift up and over the snow, reducing faceplants. You never pick up the full weight of the shoe–the tail slides along on the snow. This is a real advantage with the larger, longer shoes typically used for backcountry travel in untracked snow. Shoes that pivot freely are a bit harder to maneuver (there’s no “reverse” ) but they are a far better choice for backcountry use and general snowshoeing.

Our Executive Editor  Tim Jones writes a syndicated newspaper  column called Active Outdoors.  A couple of years ago, Tim received an email from a reader complaining that, every time he tried to use his snowshoes, they banged his shins. He asked what he was doing wrong. The answer, of course, was that he was using the wrong snowshoes for what he wanted to do. Further questioning established that this reader was using snowshoes to run for winter exercise. He also happened to be very tall (6-feet 4 inches). Every time he took a long running stride,  the tail of the snowshoe swung forward and the toe of the shoe banged him in the shin. His snowshoes obviously had a full rotating toe cord and were, simply, the wrong snowshoe for what he wanted to do.

On the other end of the scale, Kate Goodin, one of our ace gear testers, and the lead writer for our forthcoming Kids’ Snowshoe Review tells us: “My first pair of snowshoes were awful. I tolerated them for two years because I loved snowshoeing and didn’t know there were options. They had VERY tight toe cords with just enough swing to give a real catapult effect. They flung snow between my legs, up my back, onto the back of my head and, often, down the back of my jacket as it came back to earth from on high. After every snowshoe outing, my thighs were red, raw, and frozen. It was not pleasant in the least. Discovering snowshoes with full rotating toe cords was like discovering you could buy a car with a roof to keep the snow off.”

Needless to say, the EasternSlopes.com editorial staff  strongly recommends a freely pivoting, “rotating” toe cord for the highly variable snow conditions we encounter in the east. It’s simply a better all-purpose design. If you are going to run a lot on your snowshoes, stick mainly to packed trails and don’t mind getting pelted with snow with each step, choose “tight” toe cords. And if you want to do a lot running and occasional backcountry use, well, not all “tight” toe cords are created equal. Some are tighter than others, flip more snow than others.

The one exception to that rule is if you do most of your hiking in thick softwoods, where you’re likely to have to clamber over a lot of  blowdowns.  This is the one time that a tighter toe cord can be a help; it makes it easier to get the snowshoe over a downed tree, and the snow is often not as deep in those areas.  Think carefully before you decide that you fit this category, though; if you hike a ways through fields or open hardwoods to get to those areas, you’ll be so tired before you get to the woods that you won’t be able to get over the downed trees anyway!

In his photo, you can actually see the snow sliding off the deck of this snowshoe as the boot is lifted and the tail stays on the snow. That's one huge advantage of a full rotating toe cord.(Tim Jones photo)

Size Matters

Every snowshoe manufacturer and even some retailers offer charts to help you pick the right size snowshoe for you.  They are always based on weight, which is absolutely correct. The more you weigh, the more flotation you need. And bigger snowshoes mean more surface area and more flotation.

For running on packed trails, the rule of thumb is simple: choose the smallest shoe you can possibly get away with. Smaller shoes are lighter and less cumbersome, will let you travel faster and farther in ideal conditions. General use is another matter entirely.

In our not-so-humble opinion, most size charts for picking snowshoes err on the small side for general use. Yes, smaller snowshoes offer a weight advantage, and a snowshoe that’s too big for the user can make for an awkward stride and uncomfortable walking. But it appears to us that most snowshoe size charts are generally biased toward packed trails. That is, after all, where most folks apparently go snowshoeing.

However, untracked snow and a backpack full of winter gear demand larger snowshoes. We strongly  feel that, no matter how small you are, if you ever intend to step into untracked snow, especially wearing a backpack, you shouldn’t even consider a 21-inch shoe (often sold as “women’s” models).  Most women will do better with a 25-inch shoe for all around use, most men with a 30-inch. If you are a larger person or carrying a heavy pack regularly, or hike in an area that often has deep, light snow, you may need to consider larger still.

In other words, we generally recommend putting yourself on the low to middle end of the size chart. If you are shading toward the upper end of the recommended weight, go a size larger. That will give you the flexibility to carry a pack and deal with deep, untracked snow. Modern snowshoes aren’t all that heavy, so the weight penalty for going up a size isn’t all that bad, anyway.

Snowshoes come in all sizes, shapes and colors, finding the right ones for you takes some thought--but the results are all fun. (Tim Jones photo)

One thing to watch out for when upsizing snowshoes is width. Too wide a shoe can make walking with a natural gait difficult (like  the traditional “bearpaws”, which had you walking like a cowboy after a long day on a barrel-shaped horse). Some snowshoes are shaped to “nest” as one is moved forward of the other. We strongly recommend trying these on snow before you buy to make sure the shape of the shoe works with your natural stride.

Other Considerations

Beyond toe cords and overall size, there are some other considerations that make a specific pair of snowshoes right—or wrong—for you.

One of the biggest factors we encounter when testing a variety of snowshoes is ease of use. You’d be amazed at the differences that you might not notice without comparing models side-by-side. Snowshoe bindings should be easy to get into and out of even with frigid fingers inside bulky gloves. That said, most snowshoe bindings have a bit of a learning curve and some very good ones need adjustment prior to being taken out into the snow. Our advice when picking snowshoes is to wear your biggest, most cumbersome gloves and see if you can work the binding with them. If you can’t quickly learn to do that in a warm shop or your own living room, you are probably going to have trouble out in the snow when it’s below zero and the wind is howling.

Still on the subject of bindings, some are made to hold your boot more firmly than others. The less your foot moves side to side in a binding, the more control you are going to have on sidehills, which are often the toughest challenge for snowshoes. That’s why real backcountry snowshoes will frequently have beefier (and sometimes heavier) bindings than general purpose or recreational shoes. This is something to consider if you intend to tackle steeper hills and tougher trails.

All modern snowshoes come with traction crampons built in, but some are much more aggressive than others. On the MSR Lightning Ascent snowshoes, for example, essentially the whole frame provides traction. The Tubbs Couloir snowshoes we tested two years ago (similar to the new Mountaineer) have a total of 16 1-1/2-inch spikes under the toe and heel of the boot. Other models have much less traction. Obviously traction counts on steep, sidehilled or icy terrain. Our general advice if you are ever going to leave behind flat terrain is to err on the side of having too much traction rather than too little.

Renting snowshoes at a Nordic Center (here at the Trapp Family Lodge in Vermont) is a wonderful way to try before you buy. Just be sure to try them off the packed trail if that's what you intend to do on your own. (Warner Shedd photo)

Finally, some snowshoes, particularly backcountry models, have heel lifts which flip up to provide support for your heel as you are climbing steep terrain. This not only prevents fatigued calves but also helps to keep crampons engaged in the snow to prevent slipping. It’s a nice feature if you are going to climb steep slopes (the longer and steeper the slope, the more you need it). But if you stick mainly to flat or gently rolling terrain, you will probably never use it. Extras add to the cost and weight of a snowshoe; think about what you intend to do, and you’ll have a better idea of whether they’re worth it for you.

Try Before You Buy

Our final recommendation is to try snowshoes on snow before your buy them. Lots of retail stores, Nordic ski resorts, lodges and recreation programs rent snowshoes. Winter Trails Day in early January offers a host of free snowshoe events. Charity events like the Tubbs Romp To Stomp Out Breast Cancer have snowshoes galore to try. And you can always borrow from friends . . .unless, of course, they want to be out playing in the snow, too!

In the Gaspesie, when they say "snow", think "winter wonderland"...we aren't talking normal Eastern snow here! We traveled up to find out if there was something beyond snowmobiling there...and found more than we bargained for.(David Shedd photo)

Stretching northeast from the northern tip of Maine, along the south shore of  the St. Lawrence River, the Gaspésie (or Gaspé Peninsula, as it is often called) is Quebec’s summer playground. With over 500 miles of coastline, it’s a natural for Québécois trying to escape the heat. Beyond that, however, the Gaspésie is home to some of the world’s most famous salmon rivers, drawing fanatic anglers from around the world. The International Appalachian Trail brings hikers through the interior to Cap Gaspé, the end of the mainland trail. All in all, it has a thriving, busy, bustling summer economy for such a remote area.

But winter…well, that’s a different story. Snowmobilers are the predominant tourists, drawn by over 1000 miles of maintained trails and the regular lake-effect snow caused by having water on three sides of the peninsula. Doesn’t that seem like a total waste of snow to you, particularly in an area filled with mountains? It certainly did to us. Even though there are no “major” ski mountains on the Gaspesie, there must be something for us non-motorized winter enthusiasts, right? Time for a road trip…and what better time to do it than February, when the snow is deep and the days are getting longer, which means more skiing time!

If you are heading into the Gaspé by all means plan a stop at Quebec City. It’s  hard to justify going all the way up there without enjoying all that marvelous city has to offer. Lodging can be had at relatively modest cost outside the city center, but if you’re going to splurge there are a couple of great options, including the historic Château Frontenac. Owned by the Fairmont hotel chain, it’s been upgraded but not stripped of charm; how many hotels do you know of that have a four-legged official greeter? Santol is a trained guide dog, but he prefers to socialize with as many people as possible…and he made us feel right at home. On the way back from the Gaspesie, we stayed at the Hotel Château Laurier; in many ways, it’s the opposite of the Frontenac. Yes, it’s in Old Quebec, but…well, do wine vending machines in the hallways sound traditional? Another non-traditional twist is that the hotel doesn’t have a dining room; rather, they partner with other restaurants in the city to create packages that appeal to different gastronomic tastes.

Had we known what was awaiting us at the Gite du Mont Albert, we'd have been a bit less concerned about rain forcing us inside! (Susan Marean Shedd photo)

We awoke our first morning in Quebec to a sound we really didn’t want to hear…rain dripping off the roof of the Frontenac.  Fabulous…here we are in Quebec in February to head into the snowy backcountry, and it’s raining??? With our usual optimism only slightly dampened, we  headed for the town of Ste. Anne des Monts. We’d planned the first day to be relaxed, with sightseeing along the way; it’s roughly a 6-hour drive up there (see why we wanted to stop in Quebec City the night before?) along the St. Lawrence River, so there should be plenty to see, right?  Well…not so much in a cold, foggy rain, when we were wondering if there would be snow at the destination OR if the rain would turn into ice and leave us stranded. The St. Lawrence was barely visible through the fog, but one feature of the trip stood out…windmills! Canada is investing heavily in a renewable energy future, and we saw hundreds of the massive beasts, turning slowly and gracefully in the distance. It’s magnificent, and a reminder of the focus on reduced pollution in the area (yes, we’re comparing it to the slow progress in the U.S.).

By Ste. Anne, we’d decided to relax and make an early start into the mountains the next day. Luckily, it’s hard to go through any town in Quebec of any size without finding a nice place to stay and some good food. The former was easily met by La Seigneurie des Monts, a historic inn close enough to the St. Lawrence that Tom Brady could chuck a football into the water from their porch. Unfortunately, their dining room wasn’t open, but the seemingly bizarrely named Pub Chez Bass wasn’t far away. On a cold, foggy night, pub food seemed perfect, and the warm atmosphere relaxed us…and as we ate, the rain turned to snow.

They do call is SNOWshoeing; in the Gaspesie, they aren't fooling around when it comes to the white stuff! (Susan Marean Shedd photo)

After an excellent breakfast at La Seigneurie, we were on our way to the Gîte du Mont-Albert…and more snow! We’d somehow found our way into an oddball weather system where the warm rain near Quebec City had broken the ice on the St. Lawrence, and a cold north wind was lifting the moisture off the river and depositing it on our heads. Over the next 5 days, we literally had a only few hours when it wasn’t snowing. Unfortunately, the stunning views the area is known for were mostly hidden; but the tradeoff was nearly constant fresh tracks. Life is so hard…

For our first day at the Gîte, we decided to go snowshoeing and shake the travel kinks out of our legs before beating them up on the boards. The Gîte provided us with a brown bag lunch and sent us out with a guide to the Abri de la Serpentine, a shelter tucked up among the mountains. It’s a 12.6 kilometer, roughly 5 hour trip; the first section is a LONG uphill climb to the cabin, where you can rest, warm up, eat lunch, and then head back toward the Gîte around Lac du Diable. Even though it was cold and snowing, it didn’t take us long to strip down to our baselayers as we climbed…and climbed…some steeps, but mostly just a nice, steady, manageable uphill. The views were almost surreal; the sun clearly wanted to come out, and there didn’t LOOK to be much in the way of clouds above, but the snow just kept coming and coming. We were certainly ready for our break when we reached the cabin, and no food was left behind, either! The trip down was…well, just plain silly fun. Thigh deep powder on snowshoes means hard work while climbing, but downhills are pretty much a standing glissade; well, at least until I caught a toe of my snowshoe on a branch and executed a perfect header, to the great amusement of my companions, who unanimously scored it a 10.

Back at the Gîte, the bar was about as nice a place to relax before dinner as any we’ve ever seen. The combination of soaring ceilings and traditional wood construction was both modern and homey at the same time…and a friendly bartender and a nice glass of wine prepared us for the kind of comfort food you’d expect at a mountain lodge. Okay, not really…this is Quebec. The food was almost shockingly gourmet; it almost felt as if we’d been transported back to Quebec City. Roughing it, this isn’t! After dinner, back to the room; no late night for us, as we knew what was coming the following day…

If you want true backcountry skiing, Ski Chic-Chocs will get you there! (David Shedd photo)

And in the morning, I was off to take advantage of one of only two full-on cat skiing operations in the Northeast (the other being in Newfoundland, even farther into the middle of nowhere). Ski Chic-Chocs exists to make it easier for backcountry skiers to enjoy the ridiculous amounts of powder the Gaspe receives, providing guides (and rental equipment) as well as somewhat-warmer-than-outside cabins in their Catski to drag us back up the hill. It’s not Western cat skiing; the mountains aren’t that big. But, they’re plenty big and plenty wild, particularly in the disorienting conditions of constant snowfall. Up top, in the howling wind, the surfaces were scratchy…but as we skied down, the snow underfoot got deeper and deeper. In the trees, protected from the wind, it approached waist deep in places.

Everest? No, but for all we could tell, it could have been...by the time we reached the top, our earlier tracks were nearly filled in! (David Shedd photo)

Using AT (alpine touring) gear, we alternated  runs to the bottom where the ‘cat met us and took us back up with partial runs where we put skins on and glided back up to cover more of a particularly lovely glade area. If you haven’t tried AT, you’re missing a treat. Downhill, you have the control of traditional downhill skis/boots/bindings. Uphill, you have the ability to ski the kind of areas that most of us associate with Telemark. Remarkably, climbing back uphill on these boards is in many ways easier than snowshoeing;  length and width gives floatation to stay on top of the snow, the skins give great grip, and when you hit an area that’s flat or slightly downhill for a bit, they glide in perfect control, faster than any snowshoes. With ski manufacturers finally figuring out the wide shaped ski equation, AT gear is not  an unreasonable option for a skier who mostly uses lift-serviced slopes day in/day out. You then have the option to take advantage of an operation like this, or getting farther off into the open glade areas at ski resorts, where there’s no easy return to the lift without climbing. Either way, for a skier who wants something close to lift-serviced, but relishes a different challenge and gorgeous powder, this is a truly unique opportunity!

Even with the near constant snow, the views were still breathtaking; no wonder Susan is smiling! (David Shedd photo)

Susan, being relatively new to alpine skiing, wisely decided to pass on this adventure, and instead went out snowshoeing with a group in the same area we were skiing (which led to a whole bunch of shouting and echoing when we saw each other on nearby peaks!).  She, too, had a ball; by taking advantage of Ski Chic-Choc’s cats, her group was able to start much higher and cover much more terrain than if they’d had to climb from the lodge.  Even though the views were limited by the constant snow, winds would suddenly open a view to a mountain, or into a valley, giving them a constant sense of anticipation of what might happen next.  Having a guide from Ski Chic-Chocs meant freedom to focus on what was around them without worrying about where they were going, a very agreeable luxury!

By the end of the day, we were ready for another night of relaxation at the Gîte, more great food and companionship, and an early bedtime, knowing that we had an early morning ahead of us…we were headed DEEPER into the wilds of the Gaspésie!

Snow, mountains...and one lone building, in the middle of nowhere. That's the Auberge de Montagne des Chic Chocs! (David Shedd photo)

There’s a politically incorrect phrase heard often south of the Canadian border: “those crazy Frenchmen.” But, without in any way making that a negative, they HAD to be wonderfully, magnificently crazy to build the Auberge de Montagne des Chic-Chocs. Nobody remotely sane would build a four-star hotel at the TOP of a mountain that you can’t reach in the winter. Okay, maybe not at the top of the mountain, exactly…there ARE higher peaks in the area. But, the “base lodge” is at over 2000 feet…and you ski DOWN from there. Did I say you can’t reach it in the winter?  Okay, I lied. You can.  But only by THEIR custom, deluxe, converted van snowcats. Very comfy…which is a bloody good thing, since it’s 40 kilometers to the lodge from the last place you can take something with wheels. On, of course, a serpentine road that hugs the mountainside, crosses stunning rivers flowing through mountain valleys…you get the picture. The ride itself is a treat, making you wonder…can the lodge really live up to the buildup? Worry not…it’s as stunning as the scenery, and as unexpected.

Karhu was ahead of their time with the Meta Ski; they're fun, rare, and the Auberge has a fleet of them for your enjoyment! (Susan Marean Shedd photo)

I wish we could say that we paid full attention to the introduction that Guy Laroche, the manager of the Auberge, gave us when we arrived. He did his best, letting us know that surprising variety of amenities offered (being hedonists at heart, we DID pay attention to where the outdoor hot tub was), the great array of equipment for our use. With great patience, he even got us to pay enough attention to know where our room was and be able to head there and store our luggage. But…out the windows, there was SNOW. Not snow, SNOW. We did pay attention to the need for avalanche beacons, and other safety instructions, but details about the lodge itself? Nah. That could wait until after dark.

And, soon after, we were out with a guide and some Karhu Meta Skis. These are real oddballs that, unfortunately, never captured the public’s imagination, possibly because no one really understood them. People thought they were backcountry skis, and by that measure, they’re terrible (although using them with Telemark or AT boots, as opposed to your basic winter boot, dramatically improves their downhill skiing performance). If you think of them as really fast snowshoes, however, they’re a blast! We wound around in the most amazing winter wonderland, up and down; since the skins are built into the ski, there were no delays, no waiting while we put on skins to climb, or took them off to go downhill. The Meta Skis really shine on mixed terrain with rolling hills, and we found plenty of them. As the shadows lengthened, we headed back for the lodge very, very reluctantly.

Huge, multipurpose, and incredibly welcoming, the great room at Auberge du Montagne des Chic Chocs is the center of all eating activitities (Susan Marean Shedd photo)

That really wasn’t fair; the lodge deserves to be fully appreciated.  It would be impressive if it were in a “normal” location; here, where a tent is near luxury, it’s fabulous. In particular, the great room, which really is a GREAT room, is noteworthy. It’s a massive open space, punctuated by a 4-sided glass fireplace. Unlike the Gîte, which has separate rooms for bar and dining, this is the “everything” space where you eat, drink, hang out, talk, read, you name it. We found ourselves sort of rotating from space to space over an evening…a warm cup from the superb coffee/espresso/cappucino machine when we came in from an outdoors session, to the bar after a hot tub or nap, then to the long tables for dinner, and over to the cubbies near the windows to talk and share some port after dinner was over. It’s a warm, relaxing space, in keeping with the “casual elegance” theme.

Roughing it? Not likely...this IS Quebec, after all! (David Shedd photo)

Dining follows that same theme; breakfast and lunch are buffet, and dinner is served family style, with large platters of fabulous food (venison with roasted carrots and asparagus, for instance) being passed around. It makes sense, since there isn’t a pool of neighborhood talent to call on for wait staff; yes, your server WAS your backcountry guide a few hours before. Guy even doubles as wine steward, and will happily recommend a perfect match for your dinner from his latest selection of “finds.” Don’t worry about going hungry…there’s PLENTY of food (and there’s always something hanging around to eat when you come in from a long ski and are hungry enough to eat your own arm). Basically, this is “roughing it” only if you’re a Ritz Carlton Platinum Elite member.

But even the Ritz can’t give you the profound silence that comes with being this far from anywhere. About the only thing that can disturb your night’s sleep is wind, and we didn’t have enough to notice. Talk about waking refreshed…and excited! Backcountry skiing was on the agenda, and a look out the window showed us that our tracks from yesterday had utterly disappeared. I’m afraid we didn’t give breakfast the attention it deserved; we were too wound up and wanted to be sure we were totally prepared when our groups were ready to go. The guides broke us up into two groups; Susan went out to explore some gentler glades with several other people who didn’t have much backcountry experience. I swallowed the lump in my throat and went out with the REAL lunatics. The group included Steve Gorman, a longtime backcountry telemark fanatic, Rob Story, a Telluride native and an writer for “Powder Magazine” and others, and our host Guy, who lives/works there for the simple reason that he can ski out his back door all the time. And, we literally went out the back door, skiing directly from the parking lot down through thigh-deep powder to Chute Hélène, a waterfall famous in that area. I wasn’t anywhere near  in the league of the other skiers in the group, but they were kind enough to stop halfway down to let me catch up. On the first run, I pulled up next to Rob and said “Whaddya think?”  He said only one word…”Epic!” There you have it; a Western native skier, describing Eastern natural powder as “epic.” I looked at the sky…no signs of gathering clouds or massive lightning bolts. Still, I was happy when Rob skied away from me; who knew when the sky was going to fall???

Even if the skiing hadn't been fantastic, it would have been worth the trip just to see Chute Helene, magnificent in its frozen state (David Shedd photo)

It wasn’t just the skiing that was epic, though. When we reached the bottom and put on our skins, it was a short glide to Chute Hélène…and we were more than rewarded for the effort. Stunning even in its frozen state, Hélène seemingly falls directly from the sky down a cliff. A stop on the International Appalachian Trail, it’s hard to imagine how extraordinary it must be in late spring, with massive amounts of snowmelt churning down. Clearly, we need to go back when the snow is gone!

But for now…back up the mountain for another run. One of the great advantages of skiing AT in a group, besides the shared fun and increased safety, is taking turns breaking trail on the climb back up. Trust me, it’s a real workout whether you’re on the front or the back of the line; strip down to light layers, or you’ll sweat until you regret it! It makes for great skiing, though; you’re warm, your legs are loose and energized when you reach the top, so you have great flow on the way down again. Want to know how much fun the skiing really was? Take a look at this video of us having a ball!

In the other group, Susan was having as much fun as we were. After learning mostly on hard, scratchy resort snow, playing in the powder came naturally to her. By the end of her session, she was wishing she’d gotten to come out and play with us. She’d gotten great tips from her guide, and had followed the cardinal rule of glades: Look at the SNOW, not the trees! One of the most important things she’d found out, in fact, is that there’s a lot more snow than you’d expect.  Looking down at a backcountry glade, it can appear utterly impenetrable; but, when you ski down to it, you suddenly find that there’s a lot more space between the trees than it looks from above.  What had seemed scary to her as she headed out had become FUN!  When we met up for lunch, she was glowing and laughing. Truly, can you ask more from a morning of skiing than that?

Views that would make Ansel Adams weep are part of the charm of the Chic-Chocs (David Shedd photo)

After lunch, Steve and Rob and some of the other hard-core types headed back onto the slopes, but we wanted to explore, so we grabbed snowshoes and headed out. The Auberge has well-marked trails to follow; even though snow had filled in any signs of them, the tree markings made it easy. We explores a quick hour or two loop from the lodge called the Bucher; after wandering through moose heaven for a while, you come out onto an edge with unbelievable views of Mont Nicol-Albert, among others. The strange constant snow we’d been having was finally starting to calm itself down, and with the sun forcing its way through the clouds, the effects were like something out of an Ansel Adams print. We’ve probably seen views AS beautiful, but I doubt we’ve ever seen anything MORE beautiful.

Back at the lodge, we were in time to catch a quick nap, a soak in the outdoor hot tub, and then to the great room for a drink before dinner. The mood  was as light and happy as any we’ve ever seen; it had been a perfect day, with enough effort to have earned our magnificent meal, stunning scenery, and a sense that we’d participated in something truly unusual and very special. Dinner flowed into some vintage port as we all sat and chatted in the lounge area; we knew we had to leave in the morning, and didn’t want to let it end.

Riding out in the snowcat produced constantly changing, stunning views (David Shedd photo)

Alas, morning brought packing up and heading out, yet even that was a true joy. The sun had finally broken through, giving us a brilliant morning to take a snowcat ride out to the “real world”. The moose were cooperative, and we saw several groups of them when we could tear our eyes away from the mountains.  Too soon, we reached the cars, and headed out on the long trip back to Quebec City. It was a strange transition…seeing houses, cars, normal signs of civilized life was disorienting after spending time in such splendid isolation. In some ways, the long drive was a boon, as it gave us all time to gently come back to what we tend to think of as “normal” life.

And back to our regular lives we went…subtly changed. I started looking for an AT ski setup, Susan asked for Meta skis for Christmas (sadly, an unfulfilled wish, as they’re no longer made and are very hard to find), and we know we’ll be heeding the call of the Gaspésie and heading up again, both in summer and winter. Be forewarned ..if you take a trip up, you may find it addicting. Like us, you may realize that you’re randomly looking at weather forecasts for Cap Chat, wondering how much snow THEY’RE getting!

Some of the slopes at Sunday River weren't as ready for the season as the boys were. (Ryan Tuck photo)

Many of my college friends have gotten their seasons rolling with post-Christmas college weeks. Some resorts make a big deal of attracting college kids who are still on winter break after New Year’s. Killington Mountain had not one, but two back-to-back college weeks. My college friend Betsy Stanley and I drove up from Boston for a weekend to meet our friends Dan Thornhill and Casey Wittner at Killington to ring in the new season.

Casey and Dan, who also go to Northeastern University, met us at Killington’s Collegiate Snowfest. They came a little sore and in need of a shower having spent the previous week at Sunday River’s College Week in Maine. Casey had this to say about the Sunday River experience:

“Five of my college buddies- Dan Thornhill, Dan Kern, Ryan Tuck, Andy Youngstrom, and Jay Tanch– and I decided to head north after the holidays for Sunday River’s College Week. I had never boarded in Maine and wasn’t sure what to expect. I was wary of the lack of snow so far, but with discounted tickets and the promise of more precipitation up north, who could refuse?

Sunday River set up four nights of events for College Week. The night we arrived, we checked out the first of these: the 80s Comedic Dance Party. The event was taking place at the Foggy Goggle, a large bar on the third floor of the South Ridge Lodge. Having heard good things about said establishment, we willingly forked over a $10 cover. Unfortunately, we ended up being disappointed with that particular piece of the College Week experience.

Dan Kern pauses halfway down Cascades to catch his breath and his balance after a near tumble. (Ryan Tuck photo)

Turnout was poor, and the act was a lone thirty-something doing covers of 80s and 90s songs on guitar and accompanied by a laptop. The drinks weren’t any cheaper than they would be during any other week, and we soon left. We were disillusioned enough by that experience to avoid the rest of the scheduled College Week activities.

Check out the festivities for yourself and form your own opinion, but I would also recommend checking out the local joints. We enjoyed the $5 pizzas from Portland Pie Company and $3 drafts of a delicious microbrew at a lodge near Mount Abram, a deal which happens every Thursday. We also made fools of ourselves at a local bar called the Funky Red Barn that hosted karaoke.

The partying, however, is always secondary to the real attraction: the slopes. I’d just bought a new board and was itching to hit the slopes with it. Most of us bought three-day tickets on Tuesday morning which allowed us to avoid returning to the ticket lines each day and saved us some money besides. The ticket discounts we got for College Week were excellent. Three days of snowboarding on eight peaks for $120 instead of $240? Sign me up!

Casey's ready to ride at the top of Killington Peak. (Caroline McDonald photo)

Admittedly, over the course of the three days, only five to seven peaks of Sunday River’s eight peaks were ready and running, but it was certainly better than anything around New York where I’d spent my winter holiday. Nicely groomed corduroy awaited us when we strapped in on Tuesday morning, and quality, corduroy slopes greeted us each morning thereafter thanks to a bit of fresh snow and a bunch of man made Sunday River pushed out each night. When the rest of the east coast is too warm for snowmaking, you can almost always count on Maine for frigid temperatures.

It was a bit chilly (if you can call lows around -5° F”chilly”), but we bundled up and endured. Waking up early  to make the first chairlift up and indulging in the morning’s groomed trails is so worth it. As is to be expected, more and more snow got pushed down the mountain as the day went on, and trails became icier. Conditions were never terrible though, and those powdery mornings really helped.

Although some  weren’t open the week we went, a few runs stood out. From the Barker Mountain peak, a series of intermediate trails (Ecstasy and Cascades) made for a fun run down to the main Barker quad chairlift. Conditions there stayed good throughout the entire day, even when others became icy. Tempest, a diamond off the White Cap quad, had snow being made on it day and night, leading to some fun rollers and a nice amount of powder.

Killington Mountain, taken from the Ramshead Lodge. (Caroline McDonald photo)

Sadly, only two parks were set up, one consisting solely of a few boxes and rails while the other provided four hard packed jumps. If you visit later this season, more should be ready. The ticket prices made the trip totally worth it, and we’ll be back next year. Short lift lines and relatively empty trails were the perks. Maybe people being wary of the conditions kept them home. Don’t make that mistake!”

Killington’s Collegiate Snowfest doesn’t offer half price lift tickets, but they do have events happening along the Killington Access Road to entice the college crowd as well as the Winter Games which happened the first week of January.

One of the Access Road events was the dance party at the Wobbly Barn that we stopped by on Saturday night. Sort of like the boys’ experience at Sunday River, the Wobbly Barn was no great party. At the suggestion of the bouncer, we ended up at Charity’s Tavern across the street. We liked the vibe and their dart board and would recommend checking it out.

Brewskis aside, the riding at Killington was pretty good, especially considering the above freezing temperatures and minuscule amount of snow they’d gotten at that point. Killington is huge– the second biggest resort on the east coast actually (they were first, but Sugarloaf’s new terrain gives them more skiable acres)–and they had enough runs open to keep us happy. All of the peaks were open, but not all of the trails. Greens and blues dominated the color spectrum of open runs, but blacks and double blacks were also available. More trails will open up as the season marches on.

We stuck to the blues and only a few blacks. Most of the blacks were moguled and icy. When doing outdoor activities with friends, it’s easy to get caught up in competing with one another–trying to be faster or endure longer. At something like College Week, when college kids are everywhere and the nighttime partying gets excessive, you have to be careful on the slopes.

Healthy competition can push you to improve your abilities, but too much competition and someone might end up riding the red toboggan. I wouldn’t call myself a strong snowboarder, and the boys were exhausted after a week in Maine. I’m glad I went with good friends who recognized that it was a weekend to take it easy. It was a choice that made for a fun weekend.  I bet you’ve got friends like mine who know when to push and compete and when to rest. Bring ‘em along.

Our first day out, Saturday, was one of the warm days that have plagued mountains this season. Conditions were patchy, but never underestimate a good attitude. The temperature meant that our fingers and toes were comfortably warm, not numb. And the slopes loosened up in the late morning.

Conditions were noticeably better our second day out when it had been cold enough to make snow and even produce a layer of the real stuff. We had good luck at Bear Mountain, which was less crowded than Killington Peak and Snowdon Mountain.

Through a snowy fog you can see the grooming trucks preparing the superpipe on Bear Mountain as quickly as possible. (Caroline McDonald photo)

The only park open at Killington was the beginner’s Mouse Run Terrain Park. Here, I made a New Season’s Resolution (sort of like a New Year’s Resolution): I’m going to master my fear of parks and being in the air. I’ll keep you updated. What’s your New Season’s Resolution?

Mouse Run wasn’t the best place to get started on my resolution as it was very crowded, probably due to it being the weekend and the only park open. The good news for park devotees is that Killington will be hosting part of the Dew Tour in a couple weeks. Check it out if you want to see some big air and seriously talented athletes. Prepping for the Dew Tour means that their groomers and plows have been working as much as possible to get the superpipe ready on Bear Mountain. It also won’t be long before their wooden park, The Stash, is also open. The park crowd should thin out when these two open and offer bigger challenges for the advanced skiers and riders. I’ll see you there one of these days.

If you’re familiar with Killington, you may also remember the Superstar Pub at the K-1 Lodge. Alas, it is no more after Hurricane Irene roared through. But in its place is now the Roaring Brook Umbrella Bar where we took a quick break. Two, round, yellow-capped buildings stand where the Superstar Pub was once. Killington is justifiable proud  of their quick recovery, and I recommend resting at the new spot  and watching skiers and boarders come down the mountain through the huge, glass walls.

The Roaring Brook Umbrella Bar serves one of the best Bloody Marys I've ever had. (Caroline McDonald photo)

Killington has a fun, energetic vibe that not only attracts droves of college-aged people, but also pros, beginners, the old, and young. I got schooled by some snowboarders half my age at the Mouse Run Terrain Park. Pretty soon they’ll be tearing it up at College Week.

Casey and I both agree that conditions were pretty good at both mountains. We keep hearing that mountains aren’t ready for the season yet; there hasn’t been enough snow. Don’t let the naysayers deter you! Take it from people who have been there: it’s about working with and making the most of the snow on the ground.

Like many of you, I obsess about snow. During the 10 days prior to our trip I kept a daily vigil on Smuggs’ No Bull Snow Report, which I’ve found to be reliable and accurate in the past. Like everyone else this season, my family and I lamented the lack of natural snow. But temperatures were good for blowing the manmade and I knew the snowmakers at Smuggs’ would do a good job. And, we got lucky. Madonna and Sterling mountains, the twin peaks that make up the greatest portion of the resort, were blanketed with between 10 and 12 inches of the real thing during the 48 hours before we arrived.

Chilcoot, an intermediate trail from the summit of Madonna Mountain, shows evidence of Christmas week snowfall. (Gary Hopper photo)

Aside from loving Smugglers’ Notch for its challenging terrain, I have also come to appreciate Smuggs for its attention to families with mixed abilities. In our case, we have two kids who are progressing skiers and my wife is a continually improving intermediate. Sounds like your family, doesn’t it? Smuggs is consistently top-rated for its concentration on the family experience, and  our boys have enjoyed the benefits of the Smugglers’ Notch children’s programs.

On this trip, the boys, Ethan (14) and Becket (12), were booked into a two-hour morning lesson with the Kids Notch Squad and my wife Laura would join the resort’s Snowsport University for two hours of instruction while I re-familiarized myself with the available terrain.

After handing the boys off to Sam Lotto for their group lesson, and telling my wife I’d see her at lunchtime after her class, I joined our friends John and Lisa Stitt and their daughter Emily for a trip up Madonna, the tallest of Smugglers’ three mountains. As we neared the top I drank in the drops and bare boulders of Upper Liftline and looked longingly at Freefall and The Black Hole. Freefall and Upper Liftline would open a week later. The Black Hole was probably another one, or even two good storms away from getting enough cover to ski.

Snow lovers take Rumrunner to get access to Pipeline, Upper Exhibition under the Sterling lift, Highlander Glades and Lower Rumrunner. (Hugh Johnson photo, Smugglers' Notch Resort)

At the top I only glanced south for a minute because we were socked in (on clear days the 360-degree views are stunning), then looked at the ropes blocking the entrance to Liftline. I realized then that in 20 years of skiing at Smuggs, I had never skied Upper Liftline and I’d  only been on the wooded pitch of The Black Hole once – and had to take off my skis and scramble out at that. One of these days, they are going to get ticked off my list.

On this day we were limited to probably 20-25 percent of the area’s trails, but the cover was excellent. Two trips up Madonna revealed loose surfaces integrated into a good carving base on the intermediate ridge-hugging Upper Chilcoot, Link, Lower Liftline and Drifter. Noiseless skiing. And, despite the tops of tall grasses poking through the surface, there was enough fluff on the steeper lead-in to Lower Liftline for a fun dash under the chair with just enough bumps to keep you honest.

But the best run of the morning, and I would repeat it two more times that afternoon, was McPherson’s. It’s a “double falline” pitch connecting Drifter to the M2 liftline. It’s rated an intermediate but that’s only because of its brevity. Ungroomed that day, it was a bit bumped up with  boot-deep “chowder.”

After a trip up Sterling and finding better-than-expected surfaces of dry and loose snow on Rumrunner and somewhat mixed cover on Exhibition, I pulled up at the Ski School building to meet Laura and the boys and get a report on their lessons as our hosts headed back up for another run before lunch.

Over sandwiches and cookies, Ethan, Becket and Laura all reported successful mornings. Becket was pleased that Lotto took the kids into Highlander Glades and down Treasure Run to work on edging skills and planting their poles to initiate turns. (Was it possible I no longer had to chant, “use your poles, use your poles” when I skied with them?) Laura said her instructor, Gary Hopper, offered good advice on keeping her hands up front with her elbows out to “open the gate” with her poles. He also had her rest her poles horizontally on her forearms while skiing to get used to the proper positioning of her upper body. We all commented on the surprisingly good snow conditions as we quickly finished our refueling. We were in a hurry to get back outside and enjoy the snow.

Laura demonstrates her new "open the gate" use of poles and a relaxed stance during her lesson at Smuggs'. (Gary Hopper photo)

We all paired up for another trip up Madonna and another run on Chilcoot. I hung back to watch the kids and Laura ski and could see immediately that all three were skiing with more self-assurance than I had remembered. Becket was flicking his poles on turns, Ethan was more upright and had developed a more fluid turning style and Laura was skiing with hands up and skis shoulder-width apart. Maybe they’d be joining me in Doc Dempsey’s Glades or on Upper F.I.S. on a successive trip!

At $75 for a two-hour lesson, the collective expertise of the Smugglers’ Notch Snow Sport University is well worth the new skills and confidence gained. Whether  you are just starting out as a beginner, (regardless of age), or getting a technique tuneup as a level 8 skier, the instructors are ready to help any snowboarder or skier improve to have fun on the resort’s classic New England trails.

Smuggs is still all about families and our family is looking forward to another visit. More snow and more terrain would just be the icing on the cake.

If you are looking for a safe, easy way to bring your family on an outdoor adventure this winter, Lucie Villeneuve can help. (Tim Jones photo)

The little town of Errol in the Great North Woods Region of New Hampshire, is kinda quiet, out of the way (on the Maine border, 20 miles or so north of Berlin), and surrounded by hills, lakes and rivers. In other words, it’s the perfect town if you are looking to find or hold onto winter, or if you enjoy hiking, mountain biking and, especially, paddlesports in summer.

I was in the Errol neighborhood on a winter camping by dogsled adventure on beautiful Lake Umbagog, and built in an extra day to explore a little more of the area. An extra week would have been better. I still wouldn’t have seen it all.

I’d first gotten the idea from the folks at the Northern Forest Canoe Trail. The NFCT is a magnificent 740-mile water passage from Old Forge, New York to Fort Kent, Maine. It’s a paddler’s dream in the summer, but often forgotten in the winter. The NFCT is building partnerships along the trail to help get more people out and exploring year ’round. Worthy goal, and they are doing a great job.

It's the guide's job to break trail up steep slopes for the clients, and Lucie attacked the steeps with glee. (Tim Jones photo)

In Errol, they have partnered with Lucie Villeneuve of Outdoor ESCAPES New Hampshire,  who will arrange guided paddling or hiking adventures in the warmer months and cross-country skiing or snowshoeing in the winter. There are several lodging options for these packages in Errol. The one I selected was 150 Main Street Lodging On The Androscoggin, where owner/hosts Debbie  and Bill Freedman operate a very cozy, comfortable and welcoming guest house right on the banks of the river on the edge of Errol. The Androscoggin here is, of course, part of the Northern Forest Canoe Trail, and it’s literally, steps from the backdoor. Bill is an avid fly fisherman, and would be a terrific resource if you want to fish the area in summer. I ate dinner with the Freedmans that night at the Trading Post Restaurant, a few miles north of Errol in Magalloway, Maine. Bill and I talked fishing all night. Debbie looked like she was used to it. My other meals I took at the Northern Exposure Restaurant, practically next door, hearty home-cooked food to fuel an outdoor adventure.

Speaking of outdoor adventures . . .since I’d just come from three days and two nights of dogsledding, skiing, and winter camping on flat, packed trails around Lake Umbagog, and since there was more than a foot of fresh powder on top of a deep base of snow, I asked Lucie if she’d mind searching for some untracked snow on a slope. She was happy to oblige and made it clear that she will customize adventures to her clients’ desires and abilities.

Since it was just the two of us, and since we are both experienced and avid backcountry skiers, we decided to ski up (“up” being the operative word–remember this for later) the summer access road to Munn Pond, just south of Errol. Even with skis on we were sinking knee deep into the soft snow in the woods. At one point, where the snow-covered road was narrow and especially steep, we detoured onto the packed snow of a nearby snowmobile trail to scale the slope more easily. Sometimes, the longer route is the faster (and easier!) one.

Munn Pond was beautiful, nestled among quiet hills. Though we knew from having skied up a bit of it that there was a snowmobile trail not far away, we couldn’t hear it, and we skied across the lake hearing only the soft sigh of the wind and the hiss of our skis on the snow. Just beautiful. We saw tracks of moose, coyote, ruffed grouse and snowshoe hare, but no tracks of other people. Lucie is a born teacher, good at pointing out and explaining the wonders of nature you see on a trek like this. After a couple of hours of pushing our ski tips into lovely, silent places, we reluctantly headed back down the hill toward the car.

Wheeeee!!!! The payoff for climbing up was skiing down through some deep untracked powder. We enjoyed it so much, we went back up and did it again! (Tim Jones photo)

Remember all that “UP” I mentioned before? Well, baby, this was payoff time!!!

The steep slope we had avoided coming up was now a quarter-mile narrow ribbon of pristine, deep, untracked snow winding through the trees. I went first, swooping down through knee-deep snow, whooping all the way for the pure joy of it, breaking tracks for Lucie to follow. My tracks allowed her to gain speed and she flew past me as I stood to the side of the trail. We were both giggling when we stopped.

In fact, we  had so much fun, we decided to follow our original tracks out to the snowmobile trail, back up the hill and do it all over again. This time, the extra speed and momentum carried us back into the tracks of our original climb and we coasted all the way down to the car. What a great finish!

The  Guided Advantage

By choosing a guided trip, I found not only good companionship, but also a place I probably never would have explored on my own. Not all of us are lucky enough to know someone experienced who can inspire us to try something new and get us started safely. Many of us need outside help with getting motivated, planning and safely executing an outdoor adventure.

Joining an outing club or a group like your local chapter of the AMC, Green Mountain Club or Adirondack Mountain Club is always a good way to meet people who can show you how to get started. You can also get help getting started from outdoor equipment companies like L.L. Bean with their “Walk-On Adventures” programs at many of their stores, REI with its Outdoor School, and EMS with its climbing, kayak and ski schools. All are good options.

But hiring a guide like Lucie makes it very personal. You get to dictate the schedule and the activities you desire. The guide provides the expertise to help you enjoy the adventure without worry. A good guide is well worth the price if you are exploring something new or an area that’s new to you.

We had perfect weather and snow conditions for the ski trip we had planned but she made it clear that she was well prepared with other options if Mother Nature didn’t cooperate. That willingness to go with what the client and the weather dictate makes her a great resource for individuals, but especially for families looking for adventure. Lucie, I discovered, is the mother of two beautiful kids, and a former cross-country ski instructor at both The Balsams Wilderness (which will be closed for the winter of 2011/12 and reopening in summer 2012) in nearby Dixville Notch, N.H and at Gunstock Nordic Center in Gilford, N.H. She also has other guides who work with her throughout the year. As a young mother herself, she’s particularly attuned to the needs of families with young kids. She operates trips throughout New Hampshire, almost year ‘round. In the summer, she specializes in canoeing, hiking, and biking.

People tend to underestimate how steep King Pine can be; a quick look at the lift angle will correct that impression! (David Shedd photo)

A little background. We’ve skied the area before; it’s a short hour from our house, and has a great deal that allows you to downhill ski, XC, skate, you name it, all on the same ticket. Fun way to spend a day! Except when Mother Nature hasn’t provided any snow for XC, and it’s been generally too warm to make the ice safe for skating…in other words, today. We were looking at downhill skiing only. But, we decided to head over anyway, for two reasons. First, we knew that they’d done a major snowmaking upgrade over the summer; replacing their diesel system with an electric one for both environmental and operating cost reasons, and in the process increased capacity by 50%. We’d been impressed by the snow quality before, so thought…well, maybe we’d get lucky. Second, we had two reasons to go to a mountain that had more relaxed terrain than we often ski. I’d recently picked up an AT (Alpine Touring) setup. With new skis/boots/bindings, all with VERY different characteristics than my regular skis, I wanted some time to learn without scaring the daylights out of myself. And, Susan, as a relative newbie to downhill, wanted to work on some specific training techniques; that’s hard to do on an icy black diamond. Off we went!

Talk about "boards"...my Karhus utterly dwarf Susan's Blizzards. (David Shedd photo)

The week between Christmas and New Year’s is a busy one for ski areas, and with a small area like King Pine, that can be a concern. We didn’t need to worry, though. As busy as it looked in the parking lot and the lodge, we found that the multiple trails down from the summit allowed skiers to dissipate and keep it from being crowded. Ideal conditions for our goals, in other words.

And speaking of ideal conditions, we were spot-on about their snowmaking improvements.  The majority of their trails were open, including the black diamond Jack Pine, and in over 4+ hours of skiing, we didn’t encounter even one patch of ice. Period. Sure, there was some of that hard, scratchy stuff, but nothing that we couldn’t put an edge into, and in some ways the conditions improved during the day as skiers “groomed” it and created a nice, soft layer on top, particularly near the edges of the trails.  In the afternoon, the left side of Red Pine was simply outstanding, with about 4-6″ of the soft stuff to play in.

One of the most overrated facets of some mountains is “feet of vertical”.  King Pine doesn’t carry any bragging rights in that world; 350 feet of vertical is, um, pretty small. But, they make use of every foot of it; there’s no runout at the bottom, no skating along a flat trail, hoping you don’t have to pole for a  hundred yards to get to the lift.  Skiing is fun right to the bottom.  And when you’re trying to work a technique, you get tired a lot faster than when you’re simply skiing. For us on this day, 350 was perfect; we could focus on our turns, maintain as perfect form as we were capable of, right to the bottom, then relax and keep fresh legs on the way up.  There was no “dude, we got 12 runs in!”…we had more than that before noon!

I learned that the Karhus can carve...but look at the snow under my left foot, and you'll have an idea of the great conditions we had at King Pine! (Susan Marean Shedd photo)

Did we accomplish our goals?  Oh, yes…Susan was looking to move her turns to more “S” than “Z”, and  worked over and over on the “$100 bill” technique (if you want details, email us!). By late in the day, she looked like an entirely different skier than the one I’d started the morning with, both in technique and actual speed on each run. And my skis?  Going from a pair of Blizzard Magnum 7.6 and custom Dalbello Kryptons to a pair of vintage-ish Karhu BC100s (yes, that means 100mm underfoot) with AT bindings and Garmont G-Ride boots definitely meant a steep learning curve. Each run gave me more confidence, and allowed me to test how the tips and tails reacted to balance shifts; to try them in big, swoopy GS turns as well as tight, short radius blasts along the edge of the woods. End result…love the skis, feel confident on them, and now have a built-in muscle memory for the way they react. Now, when I take them into some unexpectedly difficult terrain, I’ll feel confident and prepared!

We’d have had fun at King Pine even if we’d simply gone there to play in our usual way on the slopes; the trails are well laid-out, fun, and have enough difficulty that it’s up to us to ski them in the way that we like best. But on a learning day…it truly was a great time! Now, we just have to wait for some  natural snow so we can go back and play on the few trails we missed. It’s funny how many skiers we know who have never tried King Pine, or some of the other smaller mountains around; we’d say that it’s a shame, but on the other hand, what they don’t know equals better skiing for us…

The cloudline stopped just above where Haulback joins Flume on the gray day. As you can see, the snow was deep on the trail, but not in the woods.(Tim Jones photo)

There’s a very light snow falling outside as I write this and it’s easy to get excited about hitting the slopes. If you are looking out the window at falling snow, I’ll bet you can relate. In fact, as soon as this is done…

It’s harder to get excited about heading for the hills when the ground is bare, the world is gray and, worse yet, there’s rain in the weather forecast. That was exactly the situation on the shortest day of 2011 when I forced myself to throw my skis in the car and drive through mixed ice, sleet and rain to meet EasternSlopes.com Senior Editor David Shedd at Loon Mountain in Lincoln, New Hampshire. As I drove north, the rain and ice  stopped around Plymouth, but the day was still gray and damp and a thick fog hung over the tops of the higher peaks.

But, it’s always been my contention that, when the weather doesn’t cooperate, New England skiing is going to consistently be better than you expect it to be. David agrees, as you can see in his essay on Eastern vs Western Snow (The West, too, has been struggling this season). We wanted to see if Loon would prove the theory correct.

The answer, in a word: YES!!! Considering what Mother Nature had been throwing at us, conditions were excellent. Loon had more trails open than we expected, the snow was surprisingly deep, surprisingly soft and (not so surprisingly,) well groomed. Loon takes good care of its snow.

Now, if it’s been rainy and warm, anyone who goes to a New England ski resort expecting mid-winter snow conditions is probably deluding themselves. You have to adjust your expectations to reality. I admit, I was expecting something a lot less than perfect. In fact, I brought my Volkl AC30 skis—which I refer to fondly as my “ice skates” — thinking that high-traffic areas would be boilerplate, at best.

Wrong! Honestly, there were some infrequent patches of hard snow, and a VERY few spots which deserved the term “ice,” but most of the time we were skiing on well-groomed corduroy that lasted at least as long as our legs did—actually longer, since the snow was still good when we weren’t.

Surprisingly, snow conditions on the lower mountain were, if anything, even better than higher up. (Tim Jones photo)

We spent most of our time riding up on the North Peak Express Quad, then coming down on Walking Boss or looping around Sunset to Haulback to Lower Flume (which was in superb condition). Upper Flume opened while we were there, but we decided that slopes, ungroomed steep, and with snowmaking “whales” scattered about the landscape, was not in our best interests this early in the season. The best snow of the day was probably on Loon Peak on Upper Flying Fox and Seven Brothers, accessed from the Gondola. Everywhere we looked, more deep piles of snow were waiting to be groomed out into smooth corduroy for the larger crowds expected during Christmas-New Year’s vacation. With a real cold snap since, you just know the conditions got better after Christmas.

It turned out to be a great day on the slopes—despite the dreary weather and having to drive in rain and ice. Remember, always check conditions before you head for the slopes if Mother Nature’s been cranky. But, no matter how badly she’s behaving, you’re likely to find that the snow is better than you thought it would be.