LOCALadk Magazine
Issue link: https://localadkmagazine.uberflip.com/i/1195800
Winter 2019 LOCALadk Magazine 39 LOCALadk tomers that evening, so we enjoyed chatting with the young chef and quizzing as many of the staff as we could about the next day's 11-mile trek. They were confident we'd have no problem, but after the day's windy conditions, we weren't. The next day broke clear and windless. It looked spectacular, and the only question was whether the snow surface was go- ing to be icy or not. We packed up after breakfast and headed out. Luckily, conditions were favorable, and we had a wonder- ful ski down the long hill we had previously trudged up, and could each pick our own route across the treeless landscape. It was a see-saw ski of down, up, down, then up to Blåham- maren, our third fjällstation. Halfway we had lunch at another wind shelter as the clouds rolled in. There was little wind, but it was snowing big wet flakes as we plodded uphill in white- out conditions. As we approached Blåhammaren the tem- peratures dropped, and the snow surface glazed over, making the last 100 yards to the lodge less like skiing and more like iceskating. It was a sign of things to come. At 1086m (3563 ft), the Blåhammaren Fjällstation is the highest STF lodge. It was smaller than the other two, but had a new sauna, with a round picture window overlooking the mountains. The building had a welcoming quaintness, and, like the other lodges, an incredibly friendly young staff. We took advantage of the lodge's dr ying room—a room designed specifically to dr y out guests' clothing and equipment. From there it was off to the sauna. We were three of eight guests that evening and had anoth- er gourmet dinner. The final leg of our trip was the shortest at 8 miles downhill. The conditions were boilerplate and our skis' metal edges couldn't make a dent in the ice. I left my climbing skins on for the first 4 miles to keep me from going too fast as we descended open countr y through what normally would have been a dream ski. This day it was a nightmare. After we descended 1200 feet, the snow was softer, and we had a won- derful final leg back to Storulvån. Travel back to the Adirondacks was pleasantly uneventful, but the final leg from Boston was a special treat. As I board- ed the tiny plane, I asked the pilot what kind of visibility we would have, and he responded, "The best of the year." We had a bluebird day flying over the High Peaks and my house on Lower Saranac Lake. It was wonderful to be greeted by my wife, Phyliss, and to know that I hadn't missed a bit of the ma- ple syrup season.