(HOST) As this winter’s big storms continue to mostly pass us by, commentator Deborah Luskin has sought – and found – a winter sport that doesn’t depend on snow.
(LUSKIN) The rest of the country was digging out from under several feet of snow, but Vermonters were suffering a drought, especially in the southern part of the state where I live.
Sure, the ski areas were making snow, and there had been some snowfall up north, but there wasn’t much for us cross-country skiers in Windham County, where the thin crust that survived January’s drenching rain had turned brittle, dirty, and old. So, when a friend from mid-state told us about ice-skating on Lake Morey, my husband and I took note.
We drove up the interstate parallel to the Connecticut River, enjoying the blue haze of sunshine filtering through the bare trees and glancing off the frozen water. Lake Morey is in Fairlee, a few exits north of White River Junction. Surrounded by wooded hills and cliffs, the lake occupies a chilly microclimate that allows it to freeze from December to April. Not only does the lake freeze early and thaw late, it freezes deep. The day we were there, the ice was at least two feet thick. Solid. And cold.
Lake Morey has been a summer resort for more than a century, and lake houses surround the shoreline. The area boasts golf, tennis, and other warm-weather sports. What’s unusual is what Lake Morey offers in the winter: the longest skating trail in the United States. Maintained by The Lake Morey Resort, the Upper Valley Trails Alliance and the Hulbert Outdoor Center, the 4.5-mile loop around the lake offers a thrilling alternative to skiing.
We tied on our skates at the southern end of the lake. The bright sun was blinding, but it did nothing to cut the bite of the stiff wind coming out of the north. Even wearing glove liners, I lost sensation in my fingers before I finished lacing up. And I was glad for the neck and wrist gaiters that kept the bitter wind from needling under my outerwear. With almost no skin exposed to the elements, I bent northward, skating into the wind. In no time at all, my fingers thawed, and despite the wind-chill, I was warm. It was hard work: skating upwind was a lot like hiking uphill.
It took me about twenty-five minutes to skate to the northern end of the lake, but once I rounded the curve and headed south, I had the wind pushing me for a thrilling glide back.
The sense of space, of sunlight, and speed were completely addicting, so we turned around and skated the circuit again, in the opposite direction. We skated until our legs turned to jelly. As we changed back into our boots, I counted about fifty skaters out there, along with a few happy dogs. Like a sailor back on land after a long voyage, I staggered back to the car, pleased to discover a great way to be outdoors in the winter, even without snow.