We've just rounded the corner from a long dreary winter in New York to spring, and what do I do? Take a weekend trip back to winter in Maine. East Pond is frozen and snow covered, extending from the trees like a big prarie in the middle of the woods. The outdoors smell like snow and pine and snowshoeing among the trees is peaceful with only the wind whispering.
I spend the morning on a John Deere tractor bringing wood to the waterfront firepit. When our visitors arrive we cook salmon, scalloped potatoes, corn on the cob and salad. Good food and friends cozy in a lodge in the woods. This is winter at its best. We bundle and then move down to light the bonfire and roast marshmallows for s'mores. Every once in a while someone falls through the four feet of snow. The next morning I am introduced to Big G's where all omelettes, sandwiches, pancakes etc are gluttonous.
On Monday, Pete and I go skiing at Sugarloaf where we have the whole big mountain to ourselves. With not a cloud in the sky we skied through the day, breaking for an occasional beer and relaxing at The Rack on the return trip. By the end of my time at Sugarloaf I had under my belt a lesson, a big spill and a fabulous time playing in the snow. So why does everyone get so bummed about winter anyway?
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