You know a ski day is good when you get two pictures. Both of me shot by someone else. It means I didn’t stop and shoot. I couldn’t, and there were so many things I wanted to take a picture of. Here in list form (click the read more button below to see it).


  1. The Roxbury ski racers both in pink ski pants (one must be Erin Hubbell) lying down skis propped at the top of the race course.
  2. A dad filming his kid in a wedge all the way down Lower Face. I wondered what said kid might feel about said footage in um, ten years. Or maybe even two.
  3. Still there were these warm fuzzy feelings all day seeing families out together, the racers, the dads, the dads trying to teach their kids to ski the scuffed up snow at the edge of Block.
  4. I think this is what Platty means by “keeping it real.”
  5. Then a friend who I introduced to Platty for the first time, one who just moved from Brooklyn to the Catskills, fell in love with the place. Adjectives like “adorable” were used. Then he called it the Catskills’ own little Alta.
  6. That is all true. It feels more to me like the Catskills’ own Solitude. Great snow, no lift lines.
  7. The best part of the day, the part that made me ache with the love of the hill and its authenticity, its very keeping-it-realness, in a way that no snappy writing can turn into irony: Skiing with the owner (Laszlo Vajtay) and his son and his son’s best friend. Five runs in places we cannot name, the four of us ducking over and around and finding awesome snow even at 3.30 PM. And the boys yelling out “Dad, dad, hey, ski there! Wait there, stand there, watch me!” with delight as they would fly off rollers. It was as if they were making like ski jumpers from the Catskills’ earlier ski era, more ca. 1949 than 2014. There was joy just on the chair hearing the kids singing together and calling out to Laz. And truly this is what I wish I had pictures of. Only I don’t think a picture can capture this. And the kids wouldn’t have waited long enough for me to shoot them. I couldn’t wait long enough to shoot them. Platty makes me act like a ten-year old too.
  8. Lastly, your fearless blogger learned a key fact about Plattekill yesterday. The owner’s last name = mountain in Hungarian. Yes, “Vajtay” means mountain. So clearly running Plattekill is this man’s destiny.
  9. And lastly again, me beat, in the bar at 4.30. Even on days when you think there’s little snow this hill is still a slice of heaven.
  10. Super lastly, where heaven is concerned. Whatever that winter ale is in the bar, the one with the “nutty” flavor as barman, Dennis, describes it. Now that is also heaven. (And while Laszlo’s name = mountain in Hungarian, mine seen here on this t-shirt in the bar is trench coat in Czech. Also shared by a Czech heavy metal band. I proudly wear their logo.