When my alarm blares in the early morning, I silence it before my housemates wake. Rubbing sleep from my eyes, I slip on my long underwear and ski pants. My red puffy jacket hangs above my ski boots and backpack. Living in the Mount Washington Valley for the 2008 winter has gotten me into a routine. Big storms are frequent, and I often find myself rising early. By early March, when this particular storm hits, my routine is precise. I rise at 4:30, hit the trail by 5:15, and can usually make it back to my car by 7:15. From there, it’s a 30-minute drive to work. This morning, I'm right on schedule.

A foot of fresh powder in the forecast gets me excited. Ski lifts don't open until 9:00 a.m. midweek, but that's all right. I know where fresh tracks wait and there are no lift lines — The John Sherburne Ski Trail.

Last night I prepared. Into my backpack went the essentials: Gore-Tex shell, headlamp, water, Snickers bar, wool hat, warm gloves, and the trusty, scratched goggles I've had for years. My ski boots rest by the front door, drying from yesterday's adventures at Wildcat, just across Pinkham Notch from the Sherburne.

Outside, I'm energized when I see the 10 inches of snow that piled up overnight. It's so light and airy that I don't bother to brush my car; all the snow slides off silently when I slam my door and turn on the windshield wipers. I give my 1996 Honda some gas and burst through the snow bank that plugs the driveway. Minutes later, I'm creeping up Route 16 towards Pinkham Notch, my snow tires offering vague confidence. I'm alone this morning, since my friends join my ski outings only when I set out at a more reasonable hour. I like the silence; it's a nice way to start the day.

The "Sherbie" sees thousands of visitors each year, but most use the trail only when descending from Tuckerman Ravine after a day of skiing in the steep backcountry bowl. However, nearly every morning a few diehards can be found skiing a quick run before work, especially if there has been fresh snow. There are many such trails in the Whites — Gulf of Slides Trail and Black Mountain Ski Trail are two others nearby — but the Sherbie is my favorite because of its swooping turns and ample snow throughout the winter.

In the Pinkham Notch Visitor Center parking lot, I shuck off my shoes, step into my bright orange ski boots and click into my alpine-touring bindings. I attached my climbing skins the night before, so I am quickly ready to ski uphill. Dawn's first tendrils of light are creeping over the mountains, but I pull my headlamp from my pack to make the going easier. The parking lot is deserted except for a backhoe at the far end, moving heaps of snow from one pile to another. I ski by in silence, the LED beam lighting my way. The Tuckerman Ravine Trail is the ascent route for anyone heading to Hermit Lake Shelter. Uphill traffic is firmly discouraged on the Sherburne, since a collision between a downhill skier and an uphill hiker could be tragic.

After about 40 minutes and a little more than a mile, I pass a junction with the Huntington Ravine Trail. This sign is about the halfway point, so I stop for a drink of water and to catch my breath. Fluffy white snow continues to dump from the heavens like powdered sugar on French toast. From here, it is another 40-minute push. On the way, I pass the Raymond Path and the fire road that leads to the Lion Head Trail winter route, a popular path up Mount Washington.

Sweating, I top the last hill. Two thousand feet above Pinkham Notch Visitor Center, Hermit Lake Shelter is nestled among the conifers below Tuckerman Ravine. Here, the John Sherburne Ski Trail begins.

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