Butternut Buys Blandford Ski Area; Rushes To Upgrade For New Season
Family-friendly Blandford in southern Massachusetts was poised for extinction or development, but Ski Butternut and its owner Jeffrey Murdock bought it Sept. 1 and saved it.
Here comes the snow making. Blandford’s lodges get facelifts and the slopes get upgrades in grooming and snow making.
It’s a rescue mission of historic proportions. Right now, crews are working furiously to renovate Blandford’s base lodges, upgrade the grooming equipment, and install new snowmaking to help smooth out fickle weather cycles that have troubled the family-style ski area in the Berkshire Mountains.
The timing is tight. Renovations couldn’t start until Sept. 1 when the purchase was finalized.
“We’re putting a lot of resources into Blandford,” said Dick McCann, general manager of Ski Butternut. “We want to build the skier base back up. And we care very much about making skiing affordable.”
“We think the ski industry is better for having these small ski areas,” McCann said.
In reality, no one needs a mega resort to learn to ski and have family fun. Yet mega resorts across the country are gobbling up smaller areas.
Historically, Blandford Ski Area was founded in 1936 by members of the Springfield Ski Club, and it was owned by the members. At that time, hardy skiers drove to the end of the road and then hiked to ski the rolling hills.
It’s surmised that Blandford might be the oldest member-owned ski area in North America. It’s located about 20 miles west of Springfield, Mass.
By the 1970s, the popular day ski area had many rope tows and one double chair lift. Families loved the area and spent many volunteer hours doing maintenance and especially picking up stones from the slopes and tossing them into the woods. That made the slopes skiable even if natural snowfall was skimpy.
That’s where I learned to ski and I loved the place. The snow was often thin, but it was groomed to perfection with no stones poking through.
Today, it has 25 trails, three double chairlifts and two base lodges. But snowfall became erratic during recent years and families drifted off to do other things in winter. Blandford was on the brink of extinction.
Ski Butternut’s owner Jeffrey Murdock now owns three ski areas in the Berkshires: Ski Butternut, Otis Ridge, and now Blandford Ski Area.
Ski area management runs in his family, and it started with Butternut. Its first trails were cut by the Civilian Conservation Corp (CCC) in the late 1930s, but that was followed by many rocky years. Finally in 1962, Channing and Jane Murdock, Jeffrey Murdock’s parents, bought the state-of-the-art chairlift and the ski area that went with it.
Ski Butternut now has one of the largest uphill capacities in Southern New England.
As to Blandford Ski Area, Murdock is breathing new life into it. Massive renovations are underway and they’ll be ready for this winter. A season pass is $199 for adults, $169 for kids 7 to 13, and $79 for kids 6 and under.
To read more from Harriet click here for her stories on SkiUtah.
Mammoth Memories: See Ya!!!
In the winter of 1993, I was in my 29th season, age 55 and still in that happy state of benign self-deception when I believed I skied better each season than the season before.
On the Gon at Mammoth.
Credit: Sarah Sherman/ MMSA
A lifelong wage slave, despite passionate longings to the contrary, I had never given myself the luxury of a ski-bum year. As a weekend-warrior, a good year would be 20-25 days.
It was late May and all of my usual Tahoe destinations closed. I decided to take a solo road trip to Mammoth to close the season. The sun was warm and the slopes covered with corn. I quickly racked up formidable verts and boarded the old Gondola at mid-station for what was to be one last run. Three 20-somethings joined me in the cab, regaling each other with boasts of what a fine day they had all had. “Good show!” I offered, “Now we can all relax and coast down on that good old last run.”
“Oh? Why last run? I can handle more,” one guy responded.
“Yeah, well, I don’t think so,” I said.
“Why not?”
“Well, it’s 2:20, now,” I began to explain. “Lifts stop running today at 2:30. We’re still at least five minutes from the top, and it’s a long way down, so… hey!”
“Yeah, well, whatever,” the guy said. “I suppose if I were your age, I’d see it that way, too.”
That smarted. Damn whippersnappers, can’t they show a little more respect… then I thought how I must look to these guys… gray hair, faded parka, scuffed-up red boots… Ah, hell, they’re just kids, who cares, anyway? Still…
At the top, we exited and quickly descended the stairs. I clicked into my skis as fast as I could, and checked my watch – exactly 2:27. No way… BUT… I glanced over my shoulder to see the three guys ready to shove off; they hollered, “See ya!” Then, rather than my usual cautious chicken-slow entry onto the slope, I launched straight out into the air, off the cornice, into the most direct route down.
What the hell am I doing? flashed through my mind. But, to my mild surprise, I nailed the landing, then hauled ass through those soft steep moguls all the way down to the wide groomed outrun. Already flying, I tucked all the way. A hundred yards ahead, the attendant had already started to pull the “CLOSED” rope across the entrance. I waved my poles and shouted, “HEY! HOLD ON!” By the time he looked up, I had scooted through the gate. “Oh, OK,” he smiled. “You’re the last one.” Grateful as hell, and breathing hard, I proceeded to the loading platform and boarded the last gondola of the season.
As the car left the station, I looked down, and saw the three youngsters from the last ride, approaching the now-closed lift entrance. Unable to do otherwise, I opened the window, stuck out my head, and hollered, “SEE YA!”
At the top, I exited slowly, took a long time drinking in that glorious view of the Minarets, Mono Lake, the whole beautiful scene, then coasted down, easy, stopping every few turns to admire all that grandeur, one last time, in all my quiet solitude.
2017-2018 will be my 54th season. I turned 80, last week. It’s been quite a few years now since I last believed I skied better every year. But that passion is still there, and I have no plans to quit, any time soon.
Mammoth’s season goes past Memorial Day in snowy years.
Credit: Peter Morning/ MMSA
Intentions For Upcoming Season: Mindfulness
Put Away The Phone And Be Here Now.
On a midweek day last winter I went into the lodge for lunch. Nearby were six men, obviously friends enjoying a day skiing together. During their entire lunch five of them were on cell phones, and the sixth had no one to talk to.
On the ride up on a six-pack bubble chair lift one of passengers took a call from work and loudly carried on a conversation for the entire trip up the mountain.
I was skiing with a group, and one of the skiers spent nearly half the day recording himself using a selfie-stick.
It was saddening but all too familiar; people were skiing in a beautiful mountainous area but unable to unplug and enjoy their surroundings.
One of the most pleasurable elements of skiing is attending to nature through all our senses. On the mountain, I can smell the aroma of pine and hear water in streams hidden beneath the snow. If I was plugged into a device, I’d miss one of my favorite sounds, ice kernels spraying off the tails of my skis in spring snow.
Skiing is often about sharing the fun with others. It may be conversations with strangers on a lift or sharing the joy of a great run with friends. Being on the phone or looking at the LCD screen on the safety bar (yes, this is coming) isolates us from others.
Recreation and being in nature are about replenishment. They’re about forgetting everything and being present in the moment. They’re about being mindful and aware. With all the confusion, chaos and distraction in the world we need to take full advantage of skiing’s restorative potential.
On the ride up chairlifts I’ve spotted hawks, owls and voles. Early one morning, I was the sole skier on a trail sharing it briefly with a coyote. Rugged terrain with rock outcroppings, snow and frost covered trees and unique weather events like cloud inversions might be go unnoticed if my eyes are on a screen.
Being outdoors on a mountain in the winter is an incredible gift, and skiing is a remarkably sensual experience. We need to be fully present in order to benefit from all they have to offer. So turn off the phone and listen, look, feel and enjoy.
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