Ski season is around the corner, and that has me feeling nostalgic. Help me celebrate the coming snow by reading an ode I wrote to small ski hills. Hope you enjoy!
There was a time before fancy lodges, and tall peaks-
Time for skiing, for laughs, for fun-
Before our sport became chic.
Skiing was meant to ilicit feelings and emotions-Â
Skiing was experiencing winter, away from the commotion.Â
An escape to a world different from one’s own was all that was desired-
For this reason, any small ski hill was admired.
Now we discuss which mountain‘s the largest, the tallest, the best-
We remiss for forgetting our beloved small hills-
They hold the story of our tradition, from East to West.
We must keep skiing small for fear of traditions lost-
We must keep skiing small for preservation of our ideals-
That is, skiing for all, at a reasonable cost.
In a year of uncertainty, we should remember our sport’s beginning-
We earn for turns, anywhere we can find lifts spinning.
Featured Image: Suicide Six Ski Area. Courtesy: Woodstock, VT