I don't ski.  There are reasons for this.  Some are economic.  Some are physical.  I am simply not  very coordinated. Also, part of it was that I was thinking about other things at the age when people were learning how to ski.  For a brief time I tried cross-country skiing.  However, I encountered a certain level of toxicity directed at me and other beginners in the places I went. I could tell stories and name names, but what would that solve? It is all good now.  I don't feel like I missed anything.  Also, I do feel like all those skiers have helped to preserve a number of classic mountains and climbs for those of us who move from boots, to spikes, to snowshoes and back again.

I have climbed a number of "ski mountains" over the years. In addition, there have been many others where the archaeological record indicates that skiing used to be a thing.  This isn't really much of a surprise.  Practically every geographical rise has been evaluated for that purpose.  In fact, many had their moment in the ski firmament only to disappear after a time. There are reasons for the rise and fall, of course.  There are weather concerns made worse by climate change. Also there is a cost in time and money.  All hobbies are investments, but...at different levels.

If you are interested in the history of these mountains, I would recommend a web page for you. NewEnglandSkiHistory.com  does its best to track the various cycles both generally and in some cases at an extremely granular level. 

I would refer you there for the details.  However, the general story as I understand it is that the industry really picked up after the Second World War.  A recently demobilized generation started looking for new outlets for their post-war energy.  Also, for the New England industry, there was the promise of all those bored suburbanites and city-dwellers just a few miles to the south.  That intersection of eco-tourism, extreme sports, and a large willing populace really got things going.

No doubt there was some undiagnosed PTSD for many of the pioneers of the sport here.  Certainly that was the case for my grandfather, a combat veteran and former POW.  A physical, active project fit the bill for him and many others.  It wasn't just the thrill of sliding down the hill standing up!  They also had to work together to cut trails, build lodges, and generally explore the wintry landscape that in many cases  existed far from their workaday lives.

​Note: Most of these have alternate routes to the ones I describe!  Sometimes, even in winter, you can get to the top of a ski mountain where the resort hasn't made separate accommodations...you just go up the back.  Some of those trails are much harder though (like Wildcat D where the alternate also probably shouldn't be attempted in winter) or just...dull (Tecumseh) so plan accordingly.

​Mount Tecumseh is my favorite winter hike and it is home to the Waterville Valley ski resort.  There are two ways to the peak, but the majority of people take the trail right next to the parking lot for the skiers.  It is a good hike any time but...be warned.  It is pretty much a converted ski trail and mostly straight up! 

If there isn't any snow there are a LOT of steps to deal with.  How do you like your stair climber?  Snow fills in the rough patches and creates a more gentle approach.  My recommendation: make this your first big climb after getting into snowshoes.  The view is improved when the accumulation lifts the hiker above the treeline.  Also, there are many side trails and diversions that take you to the ski trails themselves so you can eat your lunch watching people cruise down to the lodge below.  Click on the title to find a longer post and a video of when I made a winter ascent with my friend Andy.

Cannon Mountain I did not climb this in winter but it is similar to Tecumseh in that there is a designated hiking trail away from the actual ski trails.  This means it can be--with adequate preparation--climbed all year!  Also, it has a gondola that runs most of the time so you could ride up and hike down if you wanted...

Saddleback: This was a pretty hike.  It was on the ski trail so off-season is definitely the call. That said, it was straightforward and the views were fabulous.  The Horn--which we climbed the same day--is not a ski mountain so prepare for a "regular" hike once you are tired at the top.

Wildcats!  Like Saddleback, there is a ridge hike at the top.  Wildcat D is the ski mountain, but you can hike down the alphabet to Wildcat A by taking a strenuous climb across a ridge.  Unlike the previous mountains, the alternate route--reputedly the steepest half-mile on the AT--is more popular (but do beware please).  We took the designated ski trail, though, and liked it.

Wachusett: Actually if you want a warm-up hike on your snowshoes before hitting Tecumseh, this is a good one.  Gotta love this smallish ski mountain.  Thoreau did.  I believe I have hiked every trail there and it is a joyful place. My winter hike was part of the Mid-State Trail.  The views are just OK...but the climb is a good test and during the winter there is a ski lodge, food, and bathrooms at the bottom.

Sunapee: There are plenty of fun trails around this NH mountain. This was one where we mostly spent time on the back side, away from the slopes.
​
Killington I just wrote about this one so--briefly--it is fine, but be aware that your hike is a long a service road/ski trail that is also used by mountain bikers.  It is a good hike...just "other people" forward.

Now here is a quick run-down of just some of the mountains that have old ski equipment and other evidence of the industry on them.  Just about every mountain we have climbed in New England inspired somebody to at least research the possibility of putting a lift on it.  These are the ones where the ghosts are thickest.

Watatic: Also a good starter or solo winter hike.  The most obvious ski relics here have to do with the way the trails are laid out and with the service road to the top.  People still do some light telemarking or cross-country here.

Grace: Its time as a ski mountain was brief.  The Civilian Conservation Corps tried to make something of it and it failed.  However, you can find some of the old gear rusting in the woods.

Agamenticus: A cute hike in Maine with plenty of old buildings at the top.

Greylock: There is a telemarking community there still.  I list it here because it is more "hikey" these days.

Like I said, there are more.  The ski mountains have an interesting history and an aesthetic all their own.  While it may not be everyone's cup of tea, hiking up a ski trail off-season is worth trying out at least once!

HIKED ON: September 20, 2025
There are grueling, epic challenges on the New England 4,000 footer list.  Then there are medium challenges.  Then there are a few that--while not easy by any means--are demonstrably easier than the others.  Killington is one of the relatively easy ones.  I am not complaining.  As a legendary ski mountain--where trees have been cut to make gnarly trails for the winter denizens--there are plenty of views on the way up and the way down. In fact, the relative ease made for a rather pleasant ascent...for the most part.  There was, actually, one point where we stopped for too long and my legs rebelled.  However, we were already near the top...and there were witnesses.

This hike was around 4.7 miles long and about 1,700 feet of gain. If you are using All Trails, it is labelled the "Killington Peak Loop".  We started counter-clockwise on that loop but returned the same way we came up.  Apparently there was road maintenance going on along the other leg and we weren't into picking our way through that. For the vast majority of the hike we were on a service road. I am planning a post for this week about hiking ski mountains, but for now I will say that this is a common approach, at least on the off season.  

We started early enough that we didn't see too many people as we climbed.  That said, we were passed by a group of "best men" heading up without packs or water. They were expected later for a wedding.  The group was so amiable that I barely resented their pace and fitness.  As the day wore one we encountered others heading down.  It turns out that Killington runs one gondola all year for sightseers.  Some of them ride up and then hike down, which is not allowed for "peak baggers."  Also, the gondolas had racks for the purpose of stringing up mountain bikes.  The bikers barreling past us made it both startling and exhilarating! We tried to stay to the side of the road, particularly on our way down.  We also kept sudden movements to a minimum to give the riders enough room to maneuver.

All that was fine, of course.  When you hike on a mountain like this--particularly on the weekend--you do not expect to be alone. I was actually surprised by how much time we had to ourselves!  All that changed, however, just below the peak.  Here we and the wedding party merged with the immense gondola traffic.  There were porta-potties, an observation deck, a bar that was closed for the wedding prep, and a food-truck.  Also--behind the food truck--was a slow moving line of people heading for the top.  When I say "slow" I mean it.  Most of the people in line had been sitting for some time.  We did our best to work our way around them when we could.  Then we emerged to spectacular views.

Anyway, it wasn't all that bad.  It was just...a lot.  After a little break we turned back down.  Along the way we met at least one person who was struggling.  She had ridden up and decided to climb down.  However, she hadn't considered that even with gravity on our side there are challenges to a big, steep mountain.  Her knees were hurting and her party had slowed to help her out as much as possible.  Someone climbing up had already--as politely as possible--suggested that next time she should invest in some hiking poles.  I suspect it was cold comfort in the moment. We did our best to commiserate and cheer her on.  Then we moved on to give her and her friends some privacy.  I bring this up just as a warning.  Killington is easy for a big mountain...but it is still big!