My Ski Roots – Emery Park, a Family Beginner Area

Part I of a Series - revisiting places from my ski past

I went back to visit a place I used to ski long ago.

While visiting there, I listened…

The sound of someone saying, “Pizza, now French fries” wafts through the trees, followed by a squeal of a child’s laughter. There’s no sound system, no snowmobiles, not even a snow gun, no manufactured noise.

I hear the schuss of skis against snow, parents and children chattering and laughing, birds calling and an occasional squirrel running up and down a tree.

Welcome to Emery Park. Vertical, just shy of 350 feet. Runs – 3. Lift tickets – none. There is no ticket window, no cost. Skiing is and always been free at this county-run ski hill. Bring your own gear and you own crock-pot or picnic basket.

This is where I first learned to ski when I was a toddler. Later I taught some of the next generation of our family to ski here. It was fun to return as an adult this season after so many years.

I have very clear memories of this place, even though I was so young. My parents raised 9 kids and we all learned to ski. With a place like Emery, large families could afford to teach everyone to ski.

I understood something big was about to happen the day before my family went skiing. There was a lot of activity in our house. The box of hand-me-down snow pants came out of the attic. The drawers of the dining room hutch opened and out spilled not tableware, but gloves, scarves and hats. That’s just where we stored them. The annual routine followed. Take your turn looking for your size. Try it on. See what fits this season. Do your best to match. If there were any fights who got what, Mom always had a diplomatic way to decide and make it all seem fair. If there was a Nobel prize for in dividing things fairly among kids she would surely have won.

After ski clothes, it was time to head down the basement steps and see Dad. He was waiting at the bottom with piles of boots, poles and wooden skis, some of it was already a bit vintage and it was the 1970s.

“Let’s see how tall are you this year?” He’d stand a couple skis next to me and size up the proportions between my sister and I who were close in height. “Yep, these are for you, and hmmm. Let’s try another. Yes, this other pair is for your sister.” We’d go through the same exercise with poles.  Then we sat down and tried on boots. If you ended up with a pair of ski boots that buckled and didn’t lace, well that was cool.

The next morning, Dad loaded up the station wagons while mom made an assembly line of sandwiches. As you passed the kitchen and the sandwich assembly line, you'd grab a plastic baggie if you might need one to put over your sneakers. If you know what I’m talking about here – you just know. Snow boots (not ski boots) went over your sneakers. If you wanted to have any hope of sliding your sneakers back out of the boots without a struggle, sandwich or bread bags were the way to slide your sneakers into your snow boots back then.

Once we arrived at Emery all the gear was unloaded. The lodge made an impression on me as a small kid. It is a large space with vaulted, open-beam ceiling and a huge fireplace at each end. There were other families taking ski breaks inside and kids running about the picnic tables.

My older siblings got ready to ski on their own and took off outside. The 3 youngest, including me, stayed with Mom or Dad for the afternoon. Mom had a sled and pulled two of us in a sled at a time, round and round the outside of the lodge. She might pull us over to the adjacent playground and take a break. Meanwhile, Dad would take 1 kid up the T-bar at a time and ski them down the hill.

I remember skiing in a snowplow between my dad's skis. We didn’t call it a wedge back then. He’d guide me down the mountain and I loved it. Occasionally one of my older siblings would fly past on their skis and cheer us on. Then I’d take a turn on the sled while Dad took another kid up the T-bar.

When it was my turn to ski again, he’d try to encourage me to ski on my own and he’d be right behind me.  Looking back as an adult I can’t imagine how exhausted he was by that point already. I don't think I made it any easier. He wanted me to turn a lot and I should have. But anytime I turned…I was facing trees. Running into a tree didn’t sound like a good idea. So, I thought it was a far better idea to look down to the bottom of the run and try to go straight. My poor Dad. He’d have to rush ahead, cut in front of me, slow me down and point me back across the hill.  It was a process we repeated for a while, but eventually I learned turning was the way to avoid those trees and cooperated.

After skiing, mom had lunch ready on the picnic tables by the fire. I knew there would be sandwiches, but I hadn’t seen her pack the giant thermos, the kind with a dispenser at the bottom. It was a nice surprise to find that filled with hot cocoa. Everything tastes so good after a day outdoors!

That’s about all I remember from Emery, which I guess is a lot to remember from an early age. Chances are I fell asleep in the car after that. Any time we went skiing as a family was a really good day worth remembering.

Emery today is almost exactly as I remember it. The one change is the T-Bar has been replaced by a very long magic carpet.  It took me longer to go uphill than down, but I didn’t care. The ride up through the woods is peaceful. The runs are short, but not hard.  The lodge is still the same and just as I remembered, there was a fire smoldering at one end.

The atmosphere is 100% family. This a place to learn, a place to enjoy the outdoors and a place to fall in love with sliding on snow without cost barriers or distractions.

I had my cell phone out to capture photos and video to show my siblings. I didn’t see anyone else on a phone. Families were getting their kids out and teaching. Kids who had mastered wedge turns were being independent, learning they could make it down the hill without any need to navigate crowds. A few seniors were out, just taking some cruising runs. A lone park attendant helped introduce new skiers to the magic carpet.

There’s still a playground near the lodge. Hikers on snowshoes passed by at times. Somewhere on my drive into the park to the ski lodge I passed police mounted on horses. It was a beautiful Saturday when the big ski resorts were packed. Emery Park was tranquil in the best way.

There are still a number of small, family learning areas for skiing around the country. They are few and far between these days, but special spots. What a great way to be introduced to the hill and set up for success before heading to a larger vertical! Whether free or for a small cost or an exchange of volunteer hours, the beginner areas still in operation play an important role in the future of skiing. Ski companies are trying to figure out how to scale back the cost structures that scare away new skiers. Community gems like Emery Park are often where devout skiers pass the love of skiing on to their grandkids and kids.

If you have such a spot in your community, please share in the comments.

Maybe I’ll get a chance to visit and write about it someday.