Skiing on the East Coast has a mediocre reputation. The kind of place you go if you're not man enough to conquer the real mountains out West. The kind of place where lodges haven't seen a refresh since the days when skis were actually made of wood. The kind of place where a lift is a metal bench on a wire instead of some carbon fiber, climate controlled contraption manufactured at the base of the Alps by some company with a name that sounds like a Swiss downhill champion.
But in the 2014 season things are looking up for the Eastsiders. The same mammoth dumps of snow that are bringing Manhattan to a standstill every week are making a mockery of the thin veneer of artificial snow in places like Tahoe this year. Plus, a monster new Stowe Mountain Resort finally brings West Coast amenities, like overpriced rooms, rip-off food, and snobbish concepts like Ski Valets to the Eastern seaboard.
Eat your bircher muesli like that Austrian downhill legend behind you.
Apparently the average skier burns 3,000 calories out on the slopes in a day. That's all the rationalizing Team J00ster needs to tuck into some carbo-loading.
See what we mean about a transformation? Here's a brand new gondola that wouldn't be out of place on Aspen. The occupant, on the other hand, certainly would; where's the monogrammed Louis Vuitton bespoke ski kit?
It's never going to be as visually spectacular as the West, except for Rock's wipe outs of course, which are just as dramatic regardless of the coast. But scenery aside, the slopes are wide and steep, and surprisingly long for what would be a mere foothill of the Rockies.
Remarkably, it's not that cold either, with temperatures sitting around a balmy 30 degrees Fahrenheit. You don't need a thermometer to work that one out, the fact Mei has ventured onto the slopes tells you all you need to know.
A monument to the legendary ski warriors who battled the Nazis in Norway in WWII. There's a reason biathlon is an Olympic sport; skiing and shooting weren't always such a weird combination.
So much for foothills, it's looking a lot steeper from up here. Which way was that green run again?
Don't be fooled by the color of the jacket, this guy is green all the way.
Getting ready to drop for the gold medal run. Or the get-me-the-hell-off-this-blue-run as the case may be.
Not bad for an East Coast vista.
The homey Innsbruck Inn is a temple to the legends of Austrian skiing. These guys tore up the piste in an age when helmets were for sissies and real men wore leather ski pants.
Just in case one hasn't had enough cold for one weekend, the Ben & Jerry ice cream factory is conveniently located just down the road from the Stowe slopes.
A reminder that buying Rocky Road may get you more than you bargained for,
Peace, Love, and Ice Cream, in no particular order.
The Ben & Jerry Flavor Hall of Fame. Rock reckons it's a darn sight more impressive than all those dusty Austrian skiers back at the Inn.
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