2: 16 P.M. THE GRIND
The drive to Okemo was more silent than usual—we were hungry and a little road weary. Still, corn
was calling us and we knew Okemo was prime pickings. Then Cash took a wrong turn, a supposed
shortcut, and yelled out and shook his fist in frustration. The pressure was getting to all of us. We
needed cold beer.
But first, we rode up the South Ridge Quad and Northstar Express, bringing us to the shoulder
below Okemo Mountain’s 3,344-foot peak. We took a long cruiser this time, milking each turn down
Countdown and Lower Fall Line. This was our last resort for the day, and the pressure to rush
elsewhere was off. With the day’s skiing done, we peeled off our salty boots, piled into the rig, and
rumbled down the road.
We drove past the Calvin Coolidge homestead and the Green Mountain Sugar House, where sap was
boiling. Steam billowed from an open window like a five-alarm fire. Then we rolled up to the Long Trail
Brewery in Bridgewater Corners, with a thirst like none other.
“Brewing green in the Green Mountains.” That’s how Long Trail’s Seth Wyman described the
company’s efforts to reduce the environmental impacts of producing and distributing beer. One
thing’s for sure—the beer tasted good, really good. We were no strangers to Long Trail, but it somehow
tasted better served at the source. The pub was killer, with big wooden beams, beer cans of yesterday
lining the walls, and a creekside deck for savoring the suds. We had lunch and got the guided brewery
tour from Seth. Off to Killington for the night and dinner at Sushi Yoshi.
It was hopping at Sushi Yoshi, and locals were pounding down scorpion bowls at the bar, yelling at the
Bruins on one television and the Yankees on another. Lacking major-league sports teams of its own,
Vermont’s loyalties are divided, and you never know when a rival is in your midst. Sitting at the end
of the bar was a mustached man in his late 40’s, wearing a pastel plaid suit coat. Another guy claimed
to be a former Bruins player. The rest were your typical mountain-town bros, and we felt right at
home as Day One came to a close.
We suited up to start Day Two the next morning at Killington. Killington’s got a big-mountain feel,
topping out at 4,241 feet and spanning seven mountains. Killington is the second highest mountain in
the state after Mt. Mansfield and offers up Vermont’s biggest vertical drop, 3,050 feet.
The sun warmed the gondola car on the way up and we stepped out at the summit under a brilliant
blue sky. East Fall was an unblemished canvas of corduroy, long straight lines running uninterrupted
over rollers and downslope into eternity. The snow was softening already, a sign of good things to come.
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