#61. Cross-country skiing trip in Bethel, Maine: 5-7 Feb 2026

It would be the 14th annual cross-country ski trip with friends Martha Ellis, Peg Stout, and Marty Grant. We'd had to cancel in 2021 (Covid), and I'd missed 2024 (insufficient snow, then a conflict on the make-up date). Martha had a stress fracture on her foot and was side-lined from skiing on this trip. By 2026 only Marty had a perfect record of being present and skiing on all 14 trips. And only Marty had the same parka (bright pink) that she'd purchased for our very first trip in 2012.

Maine had experienced an abundance of snow, and the cold temperatures meant it wouldn't be melting anytime soon. If there was drama leading up to this trip, it was the forecast for the days of our stay: a low of -3 degrees.. New Orleans had just had a bitter cold spell (a low of 24-25 degrees), so for the "southerner" in the group, it was hard to imagine much enjoyment of skiing in those temps.

Whereas our usual base of operations was Maine Huts and Trails near Kingfield, ME, we needed to find a location where we could drive to the front door of our lodging. (MH&T requires a 30 minute ski in from the parking lot.) We wanted Martha to join, even if she couldn't ski. Bethel, ME, surfaced as the best option, and we'd skied there once before when MH&T was unavailable.

Marty identified a townhouse at the Bethel Inn, adjacent to the Inland Woods and Trails. One can not only drive up to the front door but also ski out the back door directly onto the trails. After years of "roughing it" at Maine Huts and Trails -- four of us sleeping in a dorm-style room heated to 60 degrees, the bathroom located down a snowy path in another building -- we couldn't believe the level of luxury at the Bethel Inn. The two bedrooms each had two queen beds and their own bathroom, with a full kitchen/dining and living room on the floor above. Guests could control their own thermostats, and outlets for charging phones abounded (amenities not afforded by MH&T).

If the accommodations weren't spectacular enough, the network of trails in our backyard was outstanding.

We spent the first two days on the Inland Woods and Trails. On Day 1, we'd dressed warmly to confront the frigid weather that we anticipated. Yet within an hour, the temperature had risen to the mid 20s, and we began to strip off our extra layers. We agreed to stay on the trails coded green (easy), leaving the blue (intermediate) and black (difficult) for more skilled and adventuresome skiers. The conditions were excellent. (Only after skiing on fresh powder on our final day did we realize that they were only excellent, not superb.) We skied through several connecting trails, ending up on "I-95" (Maine's interstate highway), aptly named as it continued flat and straight for a very long way.

By Day 2, we found ourselves on a trail winding through the forest that was peppered with twigs, pine needles, and other debris from the overhanging trees, less than ideal for skiing. Still, we were feeling more familiar with the layout of the trail network, and on our way home we experienced the bliss of skiing though a large open pasture with unblemished snow. At midday, we arrived at our backdoor and enjoyed a quick lunch before heading out for one final ski of the day.

My childhood friend Ann Marston had insisted that I try back country skis with metal edges, which would grip the slopes in icy places and improve my skiing experience. For close to two decades, I'd used Bill's old cross country skis and boots, which were still functional. Also, the price was right for someone who skied 3 days a year. Yet the prospect of staying upright had a certain appeal, and I was overjoyed to learn that I could rent back country boots and skis at the nearby Carter's ski center.

Unintentionally, I set up a test of the old vs. new equipment. On Day 1, I mistakenly I left the newly-rented boots behind. Perhaps it wasn't a scientific comparison, but my only fall of the three days occurred on the old equipment. When I later realized a problem with the laminate of the old ski, I took it as a sign that I needed to upgrade my gear. The owner of Carter's sold me the boots that I'd rented for $60.00 (they fit me perfectly) and agreed to sell me the skis that had worked so well at the end of their season. Left unstated but lingering in the back of my mind was the question: exactly how many more seasons of cross country skiing did I have in my future? It would have been hard to justify the purchase of brand new everything.

Because I had to return the rentals to Carter's ski center, we decided to ski their trail system on Day 3. As we drove into their parking lot, Mabel - a frisky one-year-old brown chocolate lab mix - welcomed us eagerly to the premises, hopeful that we might want her to join us on the trail. As we shivered in our parkas and long underwear, she was oblivious to the fact that it was 11 degrees. It had snowed a few inches the night before, creating the best snow conditions of the three days. Because we had stayed at the Carter's Bed and Breakfast in 2017, we were familiar with the layout of the trails. We were particularly anxious to ski the trail along the Androscoggin River, and it didn't disappoint.

The one downer of the trip was that Martha wasn't on the trails with us, though she joined in all the off-trail activity. We combined take-out dinner with food we'd brought and in the process ate very well. It was lagniappe that on our second and last night, we could watch the Opening Ceremony of the Winter Olympics in Italy. By the time the team from Colombia (one athlete) entered in alphabetical order, we couldn't ward off the fatigue from skiing and headed to bed.

As we packed the skis into the car and prepared to head home, we marveled at everything that had made these three days so extraordinary: the excellent-to-superb snow conditions, the extensive trail systems (multiple options, even when we limited ourselves to the easy ones), the convenience to skiing out of our back door, and the comfort of the accommodations. Martha urged us not to count out the idea of returning to Maine Huts and Trails in the future, lest we prioritize creature comforts over the rugged wilderness experience. But at the start of the trip, we'd calculated that the mean age of our group was 77.6 years, and I for one would use this statistic to argue for Bethel Inn in 2027.

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