The Love Affair that Keeps on Giving
Cherri Sherman
Early in the first days that Sugarbush Resort was open, I was working on my ski legs on a green trail when a college-age young man zoomed by exclaiming, “I love to ski!” My heart smiled as I recalled my early ski memories.
Upon seeing a movie where the child star skis down a mountain each day to school, I knew skiing was an activity I needed to do. The realities of the sport’s cost and requirements did not align with my parents’ abilities. My father, a tail gunner who flew missions from London in World War II, was no longer emotionally equipped for sports despite having been raised enjoying them in Vermont. He never drove a car after the war nor did my mom. My mother did what she could to get me out on the snow by garnering a used pair of very long, wooden skis with no safety straps. Friends in high school with parents who took them to Turin in upstate New York, would kindly take me as well. My babysitting money bought my tickets. Despite having to chase my skis down the mountain as I learned and fell, I was hooked. I loved the thrill. Neither my unlined jacket or mittens deterred me. I would go into the ladies’s room and run my hands under hot water to ease the pain from the cold incurred from riding the rope tow over and over again. I made knickers from wide-whale corduroy and wore heavy wool knee socks that loved to collect snow balls! It was the best! The Central New York Snow Belt received feet of snow at a time and I loved every flake. The ski outings were infrequent but a strong beginning nurturing my love.
It would be skiing that would determine how my life would unfold. After college, with my first paycheck, I purchased my first pair of new skis— Head 360’s. I was beyond happy and proud. Shortly after, I made a solo ski trip to Sugarbush by bus and a rental car, I would ultimately meet a man in the Valley House Chair lift line who had responded to my yelling, “Single?” who would become my husband and the father of our five daughters. Through some fairy-tale-type experience, I inherited a lovely historic home in Warren that would serve our family on weekends and holidays when we traveled from our primary home in Connecticut. There was no question but that skiing would come to be much easier for our girls having the right gear, instruction from us and some ski school. Our Chevy Suburban would be the vehicle bringing friends and kids who wanted to ski but did not have parents that did. Love of the sport and all the fun and challenges surrounding it, kept us driving ten hours a weekend and prioritizing season passes and using them.
Now widowed, a grandmother to six, with Warren as my home, skiing defines my winters. Celebrating 80 in August, I now get front row parking. I take nothing for granted and constantly am grateful I am able to ski and to live in such a beautiful state. In a blinding snow storm, I recently got off the lift acknowledging the attendant who remarked, “You are going to love it!” She sure got that right!
- Drop the Still - February 5, 2026
- The Love Affair that Keeps on Giving - January 19, 2026
I too was challenged with life’s little obstacles. This did not deter my love for skiing and somehow always found a way to incorporate it into my children’s winter fun. We now have 3 generations on the slopes.
Thank you for your inspiration and sharing !!
Remembering Sugarbush in the 60,s. Met my wife. First one that is on the Valley house chair. Worked together at the Sugarbush inn. Marriage didn’t survive a tour in Vietnam but love for skiing and 35 years in the industry did. Hello to Cherri and anyone left in the valley from those days. Fondest memories might be following Stein down Castlerock or hearing Tiny yell at the Blue Tooth. “Hotel,motel. Ya don’t have to go home But ya can’t stay here”
Beautifully written and heartfelt article!
Cherri, I love that story.
I too grew up in Connecticut; I first skied (?) at age 15 in Berkshire cow pastures near home on old edge-less wooden skis with beartrap bindings. I eventually “graduated” to hills with ACTUAL LIFTS (mostly rope tows) in the 60s – and after not much success being instructed by well-meaning friends, drove north to Sugarbush one weekend, and got a lesson from – who else – STEIN himself! Returned many times.
Do you remember “Gallagher’s”, in Waitsfield? The old “Bagatelle”? I broke leg at Mad River in ’69 (probably due to excessive celebrating the previous evening at Gallagher’s), causing me to sit out the following season. I moved West (Sacramento, CA) after that and resumed things (skiing in SUNSHINE? WHAT??) at places like Squaw Valley and Jackson Hole. I’m widowed now, too, and at 88, feeling old and tired enough to consider calling it quits, until I read your beautiful story. Squaw (now called Palisades Tahoe) offers free skiing to octogenarians. You inspire me! Wish me luck, eh?
Hi, I also am 88, love to ski and would like to ski with you, I’m a member of the 49er ski club and ski usually with three others a fellow name of Shep, 76. Two women Judy-87 and Jeannie 78, our ski areas are Sierra at Tahoe, palasades, and diamond peak, it’s free for over 80, I’m in hopes that you still feel like skiing and could meet at a park and ride and travel with some of us. Clyde cell 530 919 4441, we both wrote comments about Sherrys article in senior skiing news letter
Hi to all, especially the 85 pluses to still be skiing is a huge gift, would like to reach out to Roger B and say look up the -49er ski club of Sacramento- and get a message to me Clyde, I would love to ski with you, I’m also currently 88 and ski at Sierra at Tahoe, palasades, and Diamond peak, in incline village,nv