The Second Annual Camp Miller

Last week, several Bowdoin skiers got together at Kaitlynn's house in VT for a training camp of sorts. Here's Steph's report:

After a brown Christmas in southern New Hampshire, I decided to drag my aging mini-van up Interstate 89 to the Miller residence in northern Vermont. Rain began to fall in the vicinity of Hanover, which turned to snow somewhere around Montpelier. At home it was fifty degrees but Vermont was in the grips of a blizzard, relatively speaking. On Wednesday afternoon as Kaitlynn dragged me around the woods in the midst of a “winter weather advisory,” I could hardly contain my glee. Real skiing with one of my favorite people - what could be better? The very next day I was about to find out.


Throughout the week skiers, drawn to the snow like moths to a flame, congregated in Stowe. By Thursday evening I was joined on the floor of the Miller house by Alec and Jackson. Over a game of Boggle, the four of us decided to seek the answer to the age-old question: which state is better - Vermont or New Hampshire. Two days of intense debate followed. As far as word games are concerned, Team New Hampshire reigned supreme. Alec and I amassed an untouchable 26 points in 3 rounds of Boggle. The following day, when Sierra, Tess, and the Wright sisters joined us for a very unofficial 5k skate time trial, the competition heated up. Although Jackson took home the crown for Maine, Alec still managed to pass the majority of the field while skiing classic. Due to an unconventional start format, the girl’s results from the time trial are somewhat muddled, but I have reason to suspect that Tess’s strong skiing may have contributed to a victory for the Granite State. That being said, Team Vermont provided something that New Hampshire could not: snow. In the interest of remaining unbiased, I am forced to accept a stalemate between states. On Saturday, after a skate speed workout in the rain and a quick stop for legendary donuts at the Cold Hollow Cider Mill, the boys and I headed our separate ways.

And now, for the denouement: entering New Hampshire via West Leb, I noticed the near imperceptible tang of bad air.