Here is Stratton Brook Hut, perched on a hill:
Before even seeing the location of my hut, I made it my goal to be able to ski down the entire way without taking off my skis by the end of the season. Then, I got to my hut. I live on the top of a hill, and there are two main ways to get down. One is a winding snowshoe trail, and the other is the Maine Huts Trail, which is a series of sharp switchbacks down the mountain, tellingly named Newton's Revenge. The handful of times I went down the mountain for my days off I walked the switchbacks and didn't put my skis on until I reach the very flat section. I even sledded the switchbacks, which got me down faster but in a slightly less terrifying way than skiing. I thought I should probably let go of my goal cuz that hill is SCARY and I do not really know how to turn.
Here is my hut-mate Hannah (a bonafide excellent skiier) crushing the last section of Newton's Revenge:
Then came the perfectly timed snowfall. We had no guests for the day on Thursday, so the morning after we got a storm of slushy snow/ ice pellet stuff, I headed down the mountain from my back door. It was perfectly groomed in the early hours of the morning by our resident groomer Mark, and I was the first one to use the trail. And so I could snowplow to my hearts desire. And guess what?? I made it down the .7 miles of switchbacks in under ten minutes, feeling exhilarated and proud and shaky. And I skiied the entire rest of the way to my car (3 miles total) without walking one bit. It definitely required some talking myself into it, and yelling "SHIT" a bunch after some hills, but I feel quite accomplished. And now I will probably never do it again unless we get another perfect snowfall. But hey, I can check it off the list so booyah!
Here is my elated shadow after completing the downhill ski:
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