This podcast hit paid subscribers’ inboxes on Oct. 26. It dropped for free subscribers on Nov. 2. To receive future pods as soon as they’re live, and to support independent ski journalism, please consider an upgrade to a paid subscription. You can also subscribe to the free tier below: Who Ben Wilcox, President and General Manager of Cranmore Mountain Resort, New Hampshire Recorded on October 16, 2023 About Cranmore Click here for a mountain stats overview Owned by: The Fairbank Group Located in: North Conway, New Hampshire Year founded: 1937 Pass affiliations: None Reciprocal partners: 1 day each at Jiminy Peak and Bromley Closest neighboring ski areas: Attitash (:16), Black Mountain (:18), King Pine (:28), Wildcat (:28), Pleasant Mountain (:33), Bretton Woods (:42) Base elevation: 800 feet Summit elevation: 2,000 feet Vertical drop: 1,200 feet Skiable Acres: 170 acres Average annual snowfall: 80 inches Trail count: 56 (15 most difficult, 25 intermediate, 16 easier) Lift count: 7 (1 high-speed quad, 1 fixed-grip quad, 2 triples, 1 double, 2 carpets) Why I interviewed him Nowhere does a high-speed quad transform the texture and fate of a mountain so much as in New England. Western mountains, geographically dispersed and disposed to sunshine, can still sell you a ride on a 1,700-vertical-foot fixed grip triple, as Montana Snowbowl did with their new Transporter lift last year, and which Mt. Spokane has promised to do should the ski area ever upgrade its Jurassic Riblets. Midwest hills are too short for lift speed to matter as anything other than a novelty. But in the blustery, frenetic East, a single detachable lift can profoundly alter a ski area’s reach and rap. Such lifts have proven to be stabilizing mechanisms at Burke, Gunstock, Ragged, Bromley, and Saddleback – mountains without the terrain or marketing heft of their much-larger neighbors. In each case, one high-speed quad (and a sixer at Ragged), cracked the mountain open to the masses, uniting all or most of the terrain with one six-minute lift ride and, often, stabilizing operations that had struggled for decades. Cranmore is one such mountain. Had the Skimobile Express quad not gone up in 1995, Wilcox tells us on the podcast, he’s not so sure that the ski area hanging over North Conway would have gotten out of the last century alive. A “dark period” followed the Skimobile’s 1990 demolition, Wilcox says, during which Cranmore, tottering along on a double chair strung to the summit, fell behind its high-dollar, high-energy, rapidly consolidating competitors. The Skimobile had been pokey and inefficient, but at least it was freighted with nostalgia. At least it was novel. At least it was cool. An old double chair was just an old double chair, and local skiers had lost interest in those when high-speed lifts started rising up the New England mountainsides in the late 1980s. It’s true that a handful of New England ski areas continue to rely on antique doubles: Smugglers’ Notch, Magic, Black Mountain in New Hampshire, Mt. Abram. But Smuggs delivers 300 inches of snow per winter and a unique, sprawling terrain network. The rest are improbable survivors. Magic sat idle for half the ‘90s. We nearly lost Black earlier this month. All anybody knows about Mt. Abram is that it’s not Sunday River. The Skimobile Express did not, by itself, save Cranmore. If such a lift were such a magic trick, then we’d still be skiing the top of Ascutney today (yes Uphill Bro I know you still are). But the lift helped. A lot. There is a tendency among skiers to conflate history with essence. As though a ski area, absent the trappings of its 1930s or ‘40s or ‘50s origins, loses something. These same skiers, however, do not rip around on 240s clapped to beartrap bindings or ski in top hats and mink shawls. Cranmore could not simply be The Ski Area With The Skimobile forever and ever. Not after every other ski area in New England, including Cranmore, had erected mult