Titcomb Mountain, West Farmington ME

The epitome of Maine skiing is to be found at Titcomb Mountain. It's not big. It doesn't have death defying runs that you can brag about. There is no glitz. There are no high powered detachable quads to race you up the mountain nor enclosed gondolas so you can pretend you are outside. Nope, none of that. Just a couple of t-bars.

It's a must stop on the way to Sugarloaf or Saddleback and if you don't grasp the essence of this place, then just maybe you should turn around and go back home.

I darted in to Titcomb for the last 45 minutes before the lift closed after a busy morning at Lost Valley and a harrowing afternoon battling the rope tows at Spruce.

Upon entering the lodge to purchase my lift ticket, it appeared that I had to enter the food line so I did. Multiple replicas of my grandparents busied themselves behind the counter cooking up a storm of cheeseburgers, hot dogs and fries all with pleasant demeanor. Even the nice woman at the register pointed out that the lift would close in half an hour and asked if I still would like a ticket.

Snapping my skis on, I hurried over to the t-bar. Once again in reverent awe, I watched kids laughing and chatting as they expertly doubled up on the t-bar. When it was my turn, the gentle giant of the t-bar eased the bar into position and I was swept away up the mountain. Pure joy. The sensation of being whisked up the hill while my skis glided effortlessly over the soft snow through a stand of evergreen trees is extraordinary. To skiers, the hand of god.

After meandering among the evergreens as I made my way down the hill, I raced over to the lift for another ride. The man running the t-bar was quintessential Maine stock: a burly man with a big beard, plaid jacket and LL Bean duckboots but he moved with ease and gentleness while loading his customers.

This time I came down the big open hill as the sun began to set. I wish this mountain were in my backyard. Imagine a few runs every day to treasure the fresh air, the smell of evergreens and the pure sensation of skiing, one more time.