GREENVILLE, Maine — I was uneasy as the edge of the chair caught me behind the knees, depositing me onto the seat. It was a sensation I hadn’t experienced in 45 years.
The chair swayed gently as we pulled the safety bar down in front of us. Skiers and snowboarders whizzed past below, sun reflecting off groomed snow as we ascended into a bright blue sky.
My son Will and I chatted excitedly as we contemplated our first run down Big Moose Mountain.
Only a minute or two had passed when I turned and looked behind us. There, exactly as I had remembered it, was a postcard-perfect panorama.
Ice-covered Moosehead Lake, surrounded by hills and Mount Kineo standing tall, filled the frame. Katahdin, its upper reaches blanketed in snow, dominated the horizon to the northeast.
It was easy to understand why Friends of the Mountain, the nonprofit group working to buy and re-establish the facility, had chosen the slogan, “Ski The View” to promote their efforts. It is stunning.
Skiing at Big Moose Mountain, formerly known as Big Squaw Mountain, was like going back in time for me. I was only an occasional skier in my teens when some treasured friends introduced me to the sport.
My childhood best friend in Bangor was Andy Frawley. He and his parents, the late Al and Jackie Frawley, had invited me to tag along for stays in their condominium at what was then Squaw Mountain Village.
I was about 13 when the Frawleys first took me to the mountain. I had been on skis maybe twice before, but they skied there often and figured Andy might enjoy having a friend tag along.
My first run was unforgettable. I never took a lesson, but after a half-hour or so of getting a feel for the equipment, we headed to the chairlift. Little did I know, we were headed straight to the top.
We exited the chair on the ice-covered headwall that fed onto the Penobscot, East Branch and Seboomook trails. It was a scary and embarrassing introduction to real mountain skiing, but it opened my eyes to the wonders of the sport.
Fast-forward 50 years and there I was again at the lodge. Will, who has done a good amount of snowboarding, wanted to try skiing.
We paid and filled out the forms online, which expedited the process. A day of skiing at Big Moose — with rental skis or snowboard, boots, poles and a helmet — costs only $70. Cindy and the other helpful members of the ski shop crew got us geared up and sent us on our way.
We used the conveyor for the short ride to the adjacent beginner slope. I laughed out loud while reading a sign that cautioned riders to “remain standing.” Seconds later, I was on the ground, legs akimbo, scrambling to get back on my feet.
The attendant stopped the belt and patiently allowed me to get back up and reposition myself before we were in motion again. I was embarrassed, but neither injured nor deterred.
Will and I made three quick trips down the short, tame slope before deeming ourselves ready to take on the mountain. Music from the 1970s — songs I might have heard during my first trip there — played over the loudspeaker as we shuffled through a short line and were scooped up into the chair.
My mind was abuzz with memories of my first visits to the mountain as a teen, but I was thrilled to share another new experience with Will. The groomed, packed powder trails provided a consistent surface for us to get our bearings and get dialed in.
While the gorgeous sights are impressive on the way down the mountain, I found, with my limited skiing skills, that it was best to focus on the trails. We stopped several times during the day to take photos and video.
We had a blast. We worked on our turns, controlling our speed, stopping and handling changes in the condition of the snow. The biggest worry was making sure not to cause mishaps with other skiers, including the multitude of youngsters whizzing down the slopes.
There were several falls, but none were problematic. It seemed a lot harder getting back on my skis than I remembered. Our confidence and our enjoyment grew as the day progressed.
I was amazed how well Will did, with virtually no prior experience on skis, and I was pleased that I was able to overcome the lengthy hiatus from the sport and achieve some level of proficiency.
Will and I took a couple of brief breaks to use the facilities, grab a drink and catch our breath during the day, but we crammed in numerous runs. At about 3:15 p.m., we called it a day. It had been both exhausting and exhilarating.
The experience reminded me how fortunate I was to get exposed to skiing and the mountain as a youngster, thanks to the Frawleys.
As we drove back toward Bangor, I was already planning my next trip to Big Moose Mountain. It absolutely is a forgotten gem of Maine skiing, providing everything one needs to enjoy a great day outdoors in the beautiful Moosehead Lake region.
