Just off the slopes at Sugarloaf. Planned to ski for a couple of hours and be home by lunch.
Hah! Never try that on a bluebird day with sunshine, warm temps, no wind, and great snow. Although we didn’t drop off the Backside, we did cover a lot of territory, including Ripsaw (excellent) and Misery Whip (ditto). Winter’s Way was a bit still, but the cruising on Gondy and Nitro off the summit was superb.
Tonight’s predicted snow should elevate it to the next level. Hmmmm, nirvana?
Sorry to report that Tom Sidar, executive director of the Frenchman Bay Converancy, has confirmed that the lobster pound on its Tidal Falls preserve will no operate this summer. He does offer a few alternatives, though:
That is correct. The restaurant at Frenchman Bay Conservancy’s Tidal Falls Preserve will not be open this summer. However, on northbound Route One , Mano’s Restaurant will be adding lobster rolls to their take out menu and on southbound Route One, The Bridge Restaurant will have fried clams and clam chowder for takeout. These restaurants are just a few miles from the Preserve. There will be 32 picnic tables on the lawn and in the covered pavilion for picnickers. the best time to see the reversing falls is one hour before low tide. Very dramatic whitewater. Eagles, seals, kingfishers and many species of duck are commonly sighted at the Preserve. Ample parking including Handicapped spaces. Easily accessible from Route One — about 1 ½ miles.
This is truly a special place, and if you time it right, it’s well worth the effort of picking up a picnic elsewhere. Let’s hope the lobster returns in 2010. UPDATE: Closure is permanent, per FBC, which is hosting concerts here and hopes to launch an environmental education program here in the future.
By the way, Frenchman Bay has some wonderful preserves for hiking and bird watching. New last year was North Corea Health. Check it out. And if you can, support this organization with your time or money.
Sometimes photos say it best. Here’s a selection from my recent dog-sledding day trip, a howling good time with Mahoosuc Guide Service. From the Newry lodge on Route 26, just before Grafton Notch, we drove to an access point onto Lake Umbagog, which straddles the Maine/New Hampshire border, harnessed up the huskies, and, after a bit of instruction (Tighten Up, Gee, Haw… no need to shout), off we went.
It was a spectacular day, mushing with Kevin Slater and his happy huskies. It’s a full day trip, and everyone takes turns mushing the dogs and riding in the sled (where yes, it’s true, the view never changes).
The only thing about the day I’d change, if I did it again, was actually the night. Next time I’ll stay in The Farmhouse, an old fashioned B&B with warm hospitality, comfy rooms, shared bath, and a homestyle breakfast. Another option is dorm-style The Lodge.
In addition to day trips, Kevin and partner Polly Mahoney offer overnights. Be sure to check those out, too.
Grand dames come and go, but the Bethel Inn and Spa keeps chugging along. Sister grand resorts—The Mount Washington, in Bretton Woods, N.H., and The Balsams, in Dixville Notch, N.H.—put the emphasis on grand and both have undergone major renovations in recent years that have not only increased their face appeal, but also their prices.
The Bethel Inn occupies a setting right out of a Currier & Ives print. It’s smack downtown, on the common, in Bethel, Maine, with the rolling summits of the White Mountains as a backdrop. Sure, the inn has had renovations and upgrades over the years, but it retains the classic lines, decor, and casualness of a traditional country inn. It hasn’t opted for over-the-top luxury, but it hasn’t skimped on the nicities, either.
The Bethel Inn retains the bones of a grand resort hotel and offers many of the services — indoor pool, health and fitness facility, spa services, golf course, cross-county skiing, dining room and tavern, etc.—but, and here’s the good part, it keeps prices reasonable, as resorts go, especially when it comes to packages.
Consider this: Bed and breakfast plans begin around $70 pp, add dinner for about $99 per person, substite skiing at Sunday River for meals for $99 pp and up. No, not a give-away, but for a nice inn experience in lovely Bethel, quite a deal.
How easy? The inn offers plenty of components to mix and match the program that fits your needs. A free shuttle service connects the resort to Sunday River. The inn is steps from Bethel’s Main Street, with its handful of restaurants and shops. And yeah, there’s always the fitness center and the cross-country trails. Or, if you book a deluxe room in the main inn, there’s likely a fireplace in the room.
The inn’s dining rooms — one fine dining, the other tavern fare — won’t knock a foodie’s socks off, but they will fill you with good food done well. No wow factor, but no wow price, either. My Mediterranean chicken in the tavern held no surprises, but it was quite good; I finished almost every bite. Service is efficient and friendly.
I think what I like best about this place is that it tickles my nostaligia bone. It reminds me of why I love country inns — not the fancy-schmancy, overly decorated, how-many-pillows-can-you-fit-on-the-bed type, but the ones that ease you into relaxing before you know it. Gotta like that.
Forecast is calling for up to 20 inches in western Maine, that means a powder day at Sugarloaf, Sunday River, and Saddleback tomorrow. Go ahead, take a personal day, sneak up tonight and grab a room, and bring your snorkle for tomorrow.
Although empty storefronts keep popping up in Portland’s Old Port, it’s hard to believe the economy is in the tank when dining at Fore Street. Even on a chilled Monday night, the place is hopping. And no wonder. What Fore Street delivers is fine dining wrapped in comfort. Simple as that.
I arrived early enough to snag a table, but opted for the bar instead, choosing a comfy couch by the window. Fore Street’s decor blends wood ceilings, brick walls, and copper topped tables with an open kitchen. Jazz smooths out the conversations. It’s industrial chic softened with the warmth of success and glossed by the patina of confidence. Servers are professional. The kitchen, under Beard-winning chef Sam Hayward, is spot on.
When I informed my server I’d be ordering dinner, she warned that I could only order from the appetizer and dessert menu while seated in the bar’s lounge section; I’d have to move to the bar or dining room for entrees. Choices, choices. After perusing both menus, sipping a glass of wine (a rather miserly pour, my only quibble here), settling into that sofa, and asking a few questions, I opted to stay put.
It’s easy to make a meal out of the apps here, especially if starting with the wood oven roasted wild Maine mussels. Oh my! These are a must. A hefty bowl of plump mussels hailing Gurnet Strait, Brunswick, served in a rich garlic almond butter, accompanied by crusty bread and a soup spoon. I savored, I dunked and dredged, I slurped (quietly, very quietly). If it had been socially acceptable, I would have licked the bowl.
In hindsight, I should have ordered a salad. That would have been the perfect complement to the mussels. But no, not realizing how rich and satitating the mussels would be, I opted for a charcuterie plate comprising rabbit liver pate, spiced boar sausage, and duck rillettes accompanied by fig relish, orange marmalade, and spicy (and how) whole grain mustard.
The rabbit and duck were each flavorful and rich; the sausage didn’t quite knock my socks off. I’d ordered it as a substitute for the cured Maine island lamb leg, which wasn’t available. Probably a good thing, because it would have been too much if I’d eaten it all. As it was, I should have walked a couple of miles afterward.
It had been years since I’d dined here. I won’t wait that long again. Fore Street deserves its success and fame. On a chilly February night, it warmed me thoroughly.
Most folks en route to Sugarloaf on Route 27 north zip through Kingfield, the last town of blinkable size before arriving at the ski resort. Some stop for groceries or a jolt of java. Only a few detour off the highway to the Stanley Museum. Once the town’s schoolhouse, it’s now dedicated to educating visitors about Kingfield’s most famous native sons, twin brothers Francis Edgar (F.E.) and Freelan Oscar (F.O.) Stanley.
The twins may be best known for the Stanley Steamer, but their legacy of invention and innovation extends far beyond either the automobile or Kingfield.
The Georgian-style schoolhouse that houses the museum was designed and funded by the Stanleys in 1903 as a gift to the town. It’s a fitting place to learn about their remarkable feats. Two downstairs classrooms, the Car Room and the Family Room, detail their story through photographs, letters, and artifacts.
Kim Richmond White, the office manager, is one of a handful of museum employees and volunteers who assist visitors, starting in the Car Room. “There were 10,800 steamers produced between 1897 and 1924, and about 600 are known to be in existence worldwide, with about 400 of those in running order,” she recounted.
On exhibit are 1905, 1910, and 1916 Stanley Steamers; the more recent models are fully restored and operational. “They don’t drive like other automobiles,” White noted, pointing to the nozzles and dials. “It takes 40 minutes just to get one started, and the early models required about one gallon of water per mile.”
F.E. Stanley designed and built his first steam-powered automobile more as a hobby than a business, but its success as an unofficial entry in both the speed and hill climb competitions at the 1898 Boston automobile show generated orders.
The Stanley Steamer earned headlines during its brief life. On Aug. 31, 1899, a Steamer marketed as a Locomobile made the first automotive ascent of Mount Washington, N.H., and in 1906, a Stanley set a land speed record of 127.659 miles per hour.
The rest of the Stanley story, alluded to in the Car Room, is fleshed out in the Family Room. Prior to tinkering with cars, F.E. was a talented portrait artist, and in seeking a way to lessen the sitting time of his subjects, he developed and patented “an improvement to the atomizer,” considered the first airbrush. Among his subjects was poet Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.
F.E. later switched to photography, and again seeking to expedite the process, he developed a negative dry plate coating in 1881.
A couple of years later, F.O. joined F.E. in the Stanley Dry Plate Co., and together they developed the first dry plate coating machine. It revolutionized production, increasing it from 60 plates per hour to 60 per minute. They moved the company to Newton in 1890, and 10 years later, they were grossing nearly $1 million annually. They eventually sold the firm to George Eastman, of Eastman Kodak.
The twins also are credited with building the first poured concrete building in the country, designing a locomotive, and crafting violins worthy of a symphony orchestra. Let’s just say that learning about the Stanley Brothers is a good reason to go back to school.
Almost everyone’s heard of Robert Redford’s Sundance film festival, but mention the ski resort of the same name, and the response is often a quizzical one eye raised, huh? If you’re a skier or snowboarder, put this Utah gem on your must-visit list. It is the yin to Park City’s yang, the antidote to overdevelopment and mine’s-bigger luxury.
Not that Sundance isn’t luxurious. It’s just subtle, wrapping guests in the warmth of a cozy cabin, with wood-burning fireplace; catering to their needs with an intimate, few frills spa, arts studio, and theater; serenading them with the gurgle of the Provo River, which runs through it; and feeding them at one of the state’s best restaurants, The Tree Room, decorated with Native American art and artifacts from Redford’s private collection.
Now add the Owl Room, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid’s original bar, transported here by Redford and again serving drinks, wines (some with the Sundance label), and brews; and Bearclaw, Jeremiah Johnson’s cabin at the mountain’s summit, a spot to grab a snack or relax on the deck soaking up the sun and the views.
In a way, Sundance is the ultimate Hollywood set, the perfect backdrop for one of Redford’s movies. It also reflects his environmental sensitivities; this place was green long before green became a household word.
If I had to choose only one or two words to describe this place, it would be easy-going. Yes, its a ski area; yes, it’s a resort, but at its heart, it’s an arts colony, with a creative mindset and relaxed attitude. No one’s in a hurry; those powder lines will still be there hours, if not days, after a storm.
With only three lifts, and none of those high speed, it’s easy to overlook Sundance in favor of its bigger neighbors, but don’t be fooled, Sundance skis much larger than its stats indicate. Not that those stats aren’t impressive enought: 2,150-foot vertical drop from its 8,240-foot summit, 450 skiable acres. Most of it is sustained vert, too. Unless you’re moving across the mountain on a cattrack, you’re making turns.
From the base, you can’t even see the main mountain, with its treeless summit bowls, steep ridge lines, and, yes, swaths of groomers. And from the summit, on a clear days the views are the best in Utah: to one side, they extend over Salt Lake City, far, far below. On the other, sigh-producing wilderness, all of it overlorded by Mt. Timpanogos, the state’s highest peak (or second-highest, depending upon who you talk with). And except on a Saturday (or school holidays), when Provo-area families arrive en masse, lines are few.
And Sundance is a bargain-hunter’s friend: Lift tickets are only $40, about half the price of tickets at other resorts. But it gets even better: Become a Facebook friend, and ski Sunday through Thursday for $2o (subject to change, although plans were to continue it for a while). Better yet, visit between March 23 and April 5, book three nights, and stay for $189 per room, including a full breakfast at the Foundry Grill and daily lift ticket (based on double occupancy, tax extra, blackout dates may apply).
And if you crave a day at a bigger area, the Park City area resorts (Park City, the Canyons, and Deer Valley), are only about 45 minutes away.