The snow is great in Vermont, but temperatures are -26F and potentially lethal.
Disrupting the Borg is expensive and time consuming!
Google Search
-
Recent Posts
- One Atomic Bomb Per Hour
- New Video : Analyzing Oil And Gas
- Is Antarctica Melting?
- High Speed Analysis And Visualization
- El Nino To The Rescue?
- Fake News Update
- Growth Of Antarctic Sea Ice
- 65 Years Of Progress!
- El Nino To The Rescue?
- Worst March Drought On Record
- ChartGL Process Control Demo
- The Biggest Money Laundering Scam
- Drought In The Headwaters Of Lake Powell
- Unrealistic Expectations Of Water Availability
- Did Bill Gates Do This?
- Worst March Drought On Record In The US
- The Real Hockey Stick Graph
- Analyzing The Western Water Crisis
- Gaslighting 1924
- “Why Do You Resist?”
- Climate Attribution Model
- Fact Checking NASA
- Fact Checking Grok
- Fact Checking The New York Times
- New Visitech Features
Recent Comments
- Bob G on One Atomic Bomb Per Hour
- Crispin Pemberton-Pigott on One Atomic Bomb Per Hour
- Crispin Pemberton-Pigott on One Atomic Bomb Per Hour
- william on 65 Years Of Progress!
- arn on One Atomic Bomb Per Hour
- Gordon Vigurs on One Atomic Bomb Per Hour
- Gordon Vigurs on One Atomic Bomb Per Hour
- Gordon Vigurs on One Atomic Bomb Per Hour
- Bob G on One Atomic Bomb Per Hour
- Robertvd on One Atomic Bomb Per Hour


During a period of really cold and snowy weather in the early 90’s (in part due to Pinatubo?) I did some extensive skiing in Vermont. Skiing in -18 F to -30 F weather is quite doable and enjoyable if the wind isn’t blowing and the sun is out. The skiing was fantastic.
It was an interesting drive up to Sugarbush over the Brandon Gap because it was too cold for the salt to melt the snow. I witnessed lots of people in 4 wheel drive vehicles that managed to launch themselves over the barrier and down a mountain side. My beat up Oldsmobile did fine (I didn’t go over 30 mph). The only bad part was the heater never warmed up driving at such a slow speed.
I stood at the top of the mountain in Stowe in the early 90s with the frigid wind blowing stinging hail onto my face.
My friend, who lived in Stowe, turned to me and said ‘Welcome to Eastern skiing’.