AMC Outdoors, January/February 2007
Eight cool ways to take your adventure off the shoveled path
There are those for whom winter means a retreat to indoor hobbies—knitting by the fire, tying enough flies to keep you fishing through August, or retiring to the basement to brush up on long-dormant ping pong skills. For the majority of active Northeasterners, though, the first snow means a whole new slew of sports. Just a quick wardrobe adjustment and gear swap—the shorts, trail-running shoes, and canoes of warmer times yielding to mittens and snowshoes, skis and skates—and they’re off. But by January or February, even the most hardcore crew can find themselves in a bit of a mid-winter funk, their enthusiasm dampened by the parade of gray days and early sunsets. One way to dump the doldrums is to experiment with a new activity, one you’ve never tried before or possibly never even knew existed.
Luckily, a small army of winter-loving folks is devoted to coaxing maximum fun out of the season. And they’re available to instruct, inform, and outfit adventure-seekers in everything from dog-powered skiing to Olympic-style sledding. Even spectators will find their pulses quickening, so long as they know where to look. So follow our lead down these slightly strange trails and we promise you won’t be disappointed. Just be sure to bundle up—’cause baby it’s cold out there.
A logical starting point is back where your thirst for coldweather thrills was born: the sledding hill. While most people assume they learned all they need to know about sledding during childhood, those who have sped down an Olympic-quality BOBSLEDDING course at up to 55 miles per hour will tell you otherwise. To try for yourself, consider a road-trip to Lake Placid, New York, site of the 1932 and 1980 Winter Olympics and current home of the U.S. Olympic Team’s bobsled, luge, and skeleton training center. Visitors can sled like the pros on the state-of-the-art track built in 2000 to help athletes train for the Torino games. Each four-person sled holds two sledders, plus a professional driver and brakeman. At those speeds, you’ll be grateful someone else is in charge. “It’s definitely an adrenaline rush,” says Stephanie Ryan, a spokesperson for the Olympic Sports Center.
Luddites put off by the complexities of bobsledding or those looking for something a little more reminiscent of their youth might opt instead for the NATIONAL TOBOGGAN CHAMPIONSHIPS, held at Camden Snow Bowl in Camden, Maine, from February 2-4. This year marks the 17th running of this homage to those curved wooden sleds at the only American ski resort with an ocean view. Teams of two, three, and four people pilot traditional toboggans—there’s a long list of rules governing sled construction and features, even specifying the waxes and lubricants allowed—down a moderately steep, 400-foot-long chute. Slightly wider than the toboggans, the straight wooden chute is packed with snow and eventually spits the sleds out onto a frozen pond at speeds of up to 40 mph. Loaner toboggans are available for those without their own (though these are unwaxed and rarely win), and there’s a great tailgating scene at “Tobogganville,” set up on the pond for spectators. First-timers might be surprised at the competitiveness of some of the veterans. “There are some teams that take it pretty seriously, with secret waxing formulas and toboggan-building techniques,” says Jeff Kuller, manager of the Camden Snow Bowl. Those looking for a mellower experience can visit any weekend or holiday throughout the winter and try out the chute for $2 per ride, toboggan included. Says Kuller, “It’s only scary the first time.”
Of course, gravity’s not the only force that can move a sled, and the exhilaration of traveling by canine power is no secret to dog lovers. DOGSLEDDING opportunities abound in Maine, New Hampshire, and Vermont, with outfitters offering everything from hour-long rides to weeklong tours, the one common factor being the rush you’ll feel at being zipped along a snowy trail by a team of excited huskies doing what they love most: running. You can learn how to mush, harness, drive, and, perhaps most importantly, stop a team of overexcited dogs. Some kennels will even teach your dog how to pull his weight.
A simple way to harness—literally—your pup’s excess energy is the sport of SKI-JORING. Imported from Scandinavia, it involves putting on your cross-country skis, hitching yourself (via a waistbelt or harness) to one, two, or three excited pooches, and holding on. It tends to be a cooperative effort between man and best friend, so both get a workout and have some fun. “I was looking for a sport that I could enjoy with my dogs,” says Jim Blair, a champion ski-jorer. “They were always waiting in the car while I was skiing, looking at me like ‘When’s it going to be our turn?’” His dogs’ turn became a way of life for Blair, who now runs a full sled-dog kennel at his Eden Mountain Lodge in Eden Mills, Vermont. Before you begin, make sure you’re comfortable on skis, and that your dog can respond to basic commands. Stopping, in particular, is essential to safety. Many dogsledding outfitters also offer ski-joring lessons, with a few going so far as to run special camps where you bring your housedog and leave with a sled dog. Some breeds pull better than others, of course, but Blair has trained a wide variety of them, including standard poodles. “I would feel alone skiing without my dogs now,” he says.
If dogsledding whets your appetite for fun but seemingly anachronistic activities involving animals, you might consider a midwinter lesson in FALCONRY. That’s right, falconry. New England is home to two fully-outfitted falconry centers that teach the art of handling birds of prey and using them to hunt small game. Though it has survived for thousands of years, falconry participation is understandably waning amid a variety of modern pressures, not least of which is government regulation of populations of endangered birds of prey. The British School of Falconry at the Equinox Resort in Manchester Village, Vermont, is an 11-year-old offshoot of the original school of the same name, located in Gleneagles, Scotland. And though their winter offering is limited to indoor lessons in bird-handling, it’s still an awe-inspiring experience. Held in a cavernous barn equipped with perches for their Harris Hawks to fly to and land on, and even a fake pheasant to simulate wild prey, the intro lesson covers falconry history, hunting, and training methods, before moving on to basic bird handling, an activity whose rush is much the same whether indoors or out. “People are just totally blown away,” says Rob Waite, the school’s manager. And it’s easy to see why: for a close-up look at power matched equally with grace, it would be hard to beat having a raptor land on your outstretched (and, thankfully, gloved) hand. This first class equips participants to move into the higher level falconry courses, and many participants return in the warmer months to do the Hawk Walk, an hour-long free-fly of the hawks along the trails at the Equinox, or to go on actual hunting trips with the birds.
Those who prefer fish to quail should have no problem continuing their pursuit of dinner throughout the winter, but be warned: ICE-FISHING is a slightly different beast than warm-weather fishing. Though it would seem at first glance to provide a concentrated dose of the solitude that many anglers crave, it is in fact a surprisingly social activity, as evidenced by the lines of ice shanties sitting cheek by jowl in the middle of vast frozen lakes. The premise is simple: identify a good spot, cut a hole in the ice with a hand- or gas-powered augur, drop a weighted line with a lure or jig on the end through the hole, and wait. Of course, much of an ice-fisherman’s effort goes into ensuring his comfort during that wait—the lake-top shacks, towed into place with trucks or snowmobiles, can get pretty posh, with lights, TVs, heaters, bunks, stoves, and ample supplies of alcohol (for warmth, of course). For the beginner, though, the basic setup requires little more than an augur, a two-foot rod, some jigs and lures, a cooler of live bait, a bucket to sit on, warm clothes, and patience. One of the easiest ways to try it is to find a lakeside resort that offers instruction and rents shanties. The variety of fish is nearly the same as you’d find in the warmer months—perch and other panfish, along with walleye, pike, and even some large trout—and ice-fishermen will tell you that fish caught in the winter actually taste better.
Maybe you prefer to actually move on the ice rather than sit still—doing laps at Frog Pond on Boston Common doesn’t count. You might want to try your hand at ICE-BOATING (also known as ice-sailing and ice-yachting), a venerable sport that’s taken on some new twists in recent years. Reputed to be the “fastest way to sail,” ice-boaters can reach velocities up to five times the wind speed on the dozens of lakes throughout New England that provide ideal venues. Usually designed for one person, iceboats consist of three skate-blades or runners supporting a frame on which sit a cockpit and a mast. Larger vessels were used throughout the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries for both transportation and racing on nearly every navigable waterway of the Northeast; clubs around New England continue the tradition when conditions permit. Other, more recent, variations include ice-boarding (like wind-surfing, but on ice) and the use of kites to augment standard sails and catch more wind. Watching a race will give you an idea of the level of speed—and fun—involved.
The real purists simply ignore the onset of winter and continue practicing their chosen sport, regardless of hypothermia or, seemingly, common sense. Among the most committed are those who SURF THE ATLANTIC year-round, a group that you probably did not know existed unless you’ve frequented coastal New Hampshire or Rhode Island in winter. This hearty bunch spends hours at a time getting slapped around by dark gray water whose temperature hovers just above freezing. “The winter’s a lot gnarlier around here than summer,” says Josh Day, a New Hampshire surfer who works at Cinnamon Rainbows, the hub of New Hampshire surfing. “Winter’s cold, and it’s big, and mostly it’s just locals out there.” It’s a little different than in, say, Southern California, and you need to make sure you’re properly outfitted to stand a chance: five-millimeter-thick wetsuits, complete with full hoods, gloves, and extra thick booties, are standard issue and tend to compromise your mobility slightly. A crowded beach in winter might consist of a half-dozen guys waiting for a wave, but those who bear the cold are rewarded with swells that can reach two to three feet overhead in height, particularly when a nor’easter is blowing in. The chief benefit of winter surfing, according to locals, is that once temperatures drop, the scads of novices that have begun to flock to the area during the summertime vanish. Silly people…
GETTING THERE
The Olympic Sports Complex in Lake Placid (www.orda.org, 518-523-4436) is the only place to sled like an Olympian. A half-mile bobsled ride will cost you $65, while a ride on a “luge rocket” is $30. Spectators might want to catch the Geoff Bodine Bobsled Challenge (January 4-6), a pro-am event that sees race-car drivers trying their hands at bobsledding.
The Camden Snow Bowl (www.camdensnowbowl.com, 207-236-3438) is the preeminent toboggan venue in the Northeast. Registration fees for the National Toboggan Championships range from $50 for the two-person division to $100 for a four-person team. Sign up early!
Jim Blair at Eden Mountain Lodge will take you out for a threehour, 10-mile dogsled ride for $325. Lessons are available, with arrangements and pricing upon request (www.dogsledridesvermont.com, 802-635-9070).
The British School of Falconry at the Equinox Resort, Manchester Village, Vt., lets participants take a falcon into the hunting field with a specially trained dog. Prices range from $55 per person for the intro session to $145 for the Hawk Walk to $350 for a two-hour guided hunt with the birds (www.equinox.rockresorts.com, 802-362-4780). The New Hampshire School of Falconry at the Timberdoodle Club in Temple, N.H., offers a class called Falconry 101 for teenagers, along with other programs and instruction (www.
timberdoodleclub.com, 603-464-6213).
Check out weekend ice-fishing classes run by the New Hampshire Fish and Game Department (www.wildlife.state.nh.us, 603-271-3212). They take place most winter weekends all over the state.
Wannabe iceboaters can visit www.neiya.com, the website of the New England Ice Yachting Association, the best place for information on conditions, schedules, activities, and links to other ice sailing clubs.
Cinnamon Rainbows Surf Shop, in Hampton, N.H., is the de facto hub of the Granite State’s surf scene (www.surfnh.com, 603-964-7714; for a surf report, call 603-929-RIDE).
- Tim Sohn
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