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Like an archeological site full of treasures waiting to be discovered and restored, the Thunderbolt was ripe for a resurrection of sorts. In the late 1990s, backcountry skiers began pruning back the vegetation that had grown in over the decades and developing a cooperative relationship with land managers to clear and maintain the trail. The resurgence of interest in the Thunderbolt coincided with a resurgence in backcountry skiing itself. Earn-your-turns-style backcountry skiing grew in popularity, beginning in the mid-1990s in earnest and continuing into the 2000s (though backcountry skiers remain just a small fraction of the total number of skiers nationwide). Backcountry skiing is gentler on the environment than lift-served downhill skiing, and some skiers say it's gentler on the soul. No group has had a more profound impact on the Thunderbolt trail than the Adams-based Thunderbolt Ski Runners, which was formed in March 2008. The group is headed by Blair Mahar, a 39-year-old high school biology teacher who lives in Savoy, just east of Adams. Mahar is the man behind Purple Mountain Majesty, a 1999 documentary about Mount Greylock and the Thunderbolt ski trail. Through formal and informal partnerships with the state and town, his all-volunteer organization has lovingly returned the 'Bolt to its former glory. In doing so, they have resurrected one of New England's most revered backcountry ski destinations. "For me, there are two parts to the trail," Mahar explains. "First, it's an exciting trail to ski. It's narrow, and off-camber in places. It's mildly challenging, but totally doable, especially in powder." What's more, it's located on the highest mountain in the state, and in his own backyard. But then there's the second half of the equation. "It has incredible history," he continues. "From Dartmouth and the local boys in the early days, to the Thunderbolt skiers who went on to become members of the 10th Mountain Division in World War II. I take it all in every time I ski it." These days, with a wife and three-year-old, Mahar skis the Thunderbolt only four or five times per season. But he's quick to note that some people ski it 45 to 50 times per winter. And those first tracks I was chatting with Nelson-Unczur about? Mahar agrees that it's almost impossible to get them: "You could hike up at 5:30am with a headlamp and some skier will be coming down." In honor of the trail's 75th anniversary this winter, the Thunderbolt Ski Runners are holding a downhill ski race on February 20, 75 years to the month, and almost to the day, since the 1935 Massachusetts Downhill Championships won by Dick Durrance. True to the original races, the anniversary race will require skiers to hike up the mountain before they can queue up for a timed descent. The race will feature four categories: alpine, telemark, snowboard, and vintage. There will also be a team category for groups of four skiers who aggregate their times.
After drinking some water and eating a snack, Nelson-Unczur and I prepare for our descent. He straps his snowshoes to his backpack and clicks into his snowboard. I stash my climbing skins in my backpack and click back into my alpine touring skis. Then, with Nelson-Unczur in the lead — locals first, please — we drop into the Thunderbolt. We plunge down the summit ridge following the Appalachian Trail, the trees coated in rime ice and Nelson-Unczur throwing a spray of fluffy powder into the air, then make a hard turn over Big Bend and down its precipitous pitch to the Steps. We thread the Needle, and schuss the Big Schuss. All too soon, we're at the base of Greylock, with a wide perma-grin on each of our faces. Our adventure lasted just two and a half hours, round trip. And we took our time, to be sure, both on the ascent and on the descent, where we couldn’t resist carving wide, arcing turns in the fresh snow. Powder would otherwise be a terrible thing to waste, no? Even at our leisurely pace, the descent takes only five or ten minutes (I didn't check my watch). It feels like the blink of an eye, which is only appropriate, I suppose, on a ski trail whose name evokes a flash of lightning. The Thunderbolt strikes again.
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SKI THE CCC
