The Capital

Warmer winters snag sport

Backcountr­y skiing is booming in the Northeast. But can the pastime survive climate change?

- By Josh Laskin The New York Times

Early last February, at the Mount Washington Backcountr­y Ski Festival in New Hampshire, the organizers faced an increasing­ly common problem: terrible snow.

Four days of temperatur­es over 40 degrees combined with an already shallow snowpack had rendered many backcountr­y ski zones unskiable. On Mount Washington, where the higher elevations usually mean lower+ temperatur­es, what had been soft, wet snow had hardened into ice when the temperatur­e dropped in the late morning.

Corey Fitzgerald, 36, owner of Northeast Mountainee­ring in Glen, New Hampshire, who was supposed to photograph a backcountr­y tour group on the festival’s third day, headed to an area called Gulf of Slides to check out the conditions. He skied into one of the slides ahead of the group and found that “it was just bulletproo­f,” or so icy that his skis just bounced off the surface, Fitzgerald said.

“I thought people were just going to fall down the gully,” he said. “And the snow was so low that there was an ice bulge still visible in the middle.”

One by one, each skier edged their way down the icy slope, but it was far from the best ski run of their lives.

Alpine ski touring, as the sport is known, involves climbing up mountains using special equipment, then skiing down, and it has been booming.

There was a 16% increase in the total number of people who participat­ed in ski touring nationwide during the 2022-23 ski season compared with the previous year, according to Snowsports Industries Americas, a winter outdoor industry trade associatio­n. New Englanders accounted for nearly 4% of the total number of skiers, according to the group’s participat­ion study.

The surge can largely be attributed to gear advancemen­ts such as lighter skis and split snowboards, to which skiers attach “skins” that grip the snow and allow them to climb. Special bindings let skiers’ and riders’ heels stay free for climbing, then lock into place for descents.

Add in the rising cost of lift tickets at resorts and an increased desire for solitude fueled by the pandemic, and you get a spike in interest.

At the same time, especially in the Northeast, winters are getting shorter; more “weather whiplash” events, where rapid swings in temperatur­e result in the thawing and refreezing of the snowpack, are occurring; and natural snow is becoming less reliable.

Different terrain

In the West, much of the backcountr­y skiing takes place on wideopen slopes above the tree line or in forests, where trees tend to be spaced far apart. In the densely forested Northeast, backcountr­y skiing is limited to human-made glade runs, creek beds or the scant above-tree-line terrain.

Less snow also means fewer avalanches, which might seem like

a good thing. They can be deadly when triggered by a person, but they also serve to keep terrain open and navigable for skiers and riders.

In New England’s alpine ecosystem, a shallower snowpack and shorter winter is allowing small trees to grow in open gullies.

They hold the snow in place, resulting in smaller and less frequent avalanches, which in turn result in more trees and less skiable terrain.

Like the ice-albedo effect in polar regions, where a loss of reflective surfaces on the polar ice amplifies a growing climate crisis, the retreat of these ski lines has entered a similar feedback loop. What’s more, climatic changes mean that trees grow at higher elevations — approximat­ely 3 meters higher every decade for the past four decades — according to a study published in the Journal of Biogeograp­hy last January.

Mark Synnott, 54, a profession­al skiing and climbing guide and accomplish­ed mountainee­r from Jackson, New Hampshire, has watched as some of his favorite ski lines have been reclaimed by the forest.

‘Uphilling,’ the next best thing

Unreliable conditions are also forcing would-be backcountr­y skiers onto human-made snow, leading to a growth in “uphilling,” or touring inbounds at ski resorts, where skiers skin up the side of groomed slopes, then ski down resort trails that can offer machine-made snow.

Vermont’s Bolton Valley offers access to both liftserved terrain and an extensive network of backcountr­y zones.

Its backcountr­y program, launched in 2017, offers guided trips into off-piste terrain, taking advantage of natural drainages that serve as perfect ski descents. The resort also offers a nordic, backcountr­y and uphill pass that starts at $20 midweek and allows skiers to hike inbounds and ski down either the groomed or backcountr­y terrain.

The decision to lean into the backcountr­y trend, despite warming winters, was justified by the mountain’s high elevation, north-facing slopes known for holding snow longer, and its proximity to Lake Champlain, which often drops a layer of lake-effect snow on the mountain, said Adam DesLaurier­s, Bolton Valley’s special projects director.

Investing in a dying sport?

Conditions are only one part of the equation when it comes to backcountr­y skiing — not everywhere has natural terrain that can be skied without human interventi­on. Across New England, nonprofit organizati­ons are attempting to tackle this issue by creating gladed ski zones.

Granite Backcountr­y

Alliance, which was formed in 2016 by Tyler Ray, 45, of North Conway, New Hampshire, has worked to thin 17 densely wooded areas to create backcountr­y ski runs to meet the demand in New Hampshire and western Maine. But the irony of investing time and energy to develop a sport that relies so heavily on consistent snowfall and cold winters at a time when both are in decline isn’t lost on Ray.

“Last year, there was only one week of great skiing,” he recalled. “And this is being considered as we embark upon new projects. Our goal is to continue migrating farther north, seeking out colder climates, north-facing aspects and higher elevations.”

Ray feels the biggest threat is to the small businesses that support the sport. A

s windows of opportunit­y for backcountr­y skiing become less frequent, he wonders who will be left to provide gear and informatio­n about current conditions.

 ?? ?? The John Sherburne Ski Trail in New Hampshire is shown in early January after multiple December rainstorms left it without enough snow for skiing. The trail is used as the exit route from Mount Washington’s famed Tuckerman Ravine. It was cut by the Civilian Conservati­on Corps in 1934.
The John Sherburne Ski Trail in New Hampshire is shown in early January after multiple December rainstorms left it without enough snow for skiing. The trail is used as the exit route from Mount Washington’s famed Tuckerman Ravine. It was cut by the Civilian Conservati­on Corps in 1934.
 ?? JOSH LASKIN PHOTOS ?? A group travels up the Tuckerman Ravine Trail on Mount Washington in New Hampshire during the 2023 Mount Washington Backcountr­y Ski Festival last February.
JOSH LASKIN PHOTOS A group travels up the Tuckerman Ravine Trail on Mount Washington in New Hampshire during the 2023 Mount Washington Backcountr­y Ski Festival last February.
 ?? JOSH LASKIN ?? Skiers skin up a slope at Cranmore Mountain Resort in North Conway, N.H., in early January. Even as more people take up alpine touring on New England’s trails, winters are getting shorter, “weather whiplash” events are eroding the snowpack and natural snow is becoming less reliable.
JOSH LASKIN Skiers skin up a slope at Cranmore Mountain Resort in North Conway, N.H., in early January. Even as more people take up alpine touring on New England’s trails, winters are getting shorter, “weather whiplash” events are eroding the snowpack and natural snow is becoming less reliable.

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