Badness Ski Reports: Mount Sunapee & Crotched Mountain
When we got the news that we were headed to New Hampshire, my first thought was, Where’s our closest ski hill? We quickly discovered that Crotched Mountain was just 25 minutes from our house—and even better, it was on the Epic Pass. That sealed the deal. Getting Epic Passes meant unlocking way more skiing than just this small hill outside of Peterborough, NH. Along with several other mountains across New England, we also had access to Mount Sunapee, a slightly larger ski area just 40 minutes away. Both mountains became our “local hills.” We skied them more than anywhere else and fell in love with their simple layouts and diehard ski cultures!
Billy Badness East Coast Ski Report: Mount Sunapee & Crotched Mountain
Mile: 62,576
Quote of the Blog: “A pair of skis are the ultimate transportation to freedom.” - Warren Miller
Song of the Blog: “Ramble On” - Led Zeppelin
Mount Sunapee Resort
Overall Score 6.75/10
Open Terrain 7/10
Technicality of Terrain 6/10
Lodges 7/10
Snow Conditions 6/10
Vibe & Apres Scene 7/10
Chairlifts & Access 6/10
Parking 9/10
Crowds 6/10
Mount Sunapee is one of the more unique ski hills I’ve been to, mainly because it’s actually a New Hampshire State Park. What a great use of the park system—turning it into a recreation area for both summer and winter activities. I was excited to ski at my first state park!
Each time we visited, parking was never an issue, and we never had to walk more than a couple hundred yards to the slopes. This made accessing the mountain incredibly easy. The village area consists of two main lodges staggered along the chairlift line. The lower lodge is home to Goosefeathers Pub, where we found great après vibes. The upper lodge is a good spot to warm up or grab a latte, but it’s always packed, with bags scattered everywhere. I will never understand the whole get ready in the lodge and leave your stuff everywhere thing.
The skiing improved as the season progressed. Early on, conditions weren’t necessarily bad—if you stuck to the sides of the runs and avoided the sheets of ice in the middle. However, early-season bottlenecks made for some sketchy moments, with people piling up in certain areas. Even staying to the sides wasn’t always safe. As the season went on, the mountain opened up, and skiers spread out more. We also noticed that many lower-level skiers stuck to the easier runs, even the groomed black diamonds. This worked in our favor, as we found spots where we could ski alone and enjoy ourselves.
Sunapee is a lot of fun. They have a solid racing and development program, which shows—on average, the skiers here are better than at other places we’ve been. One of the best aspects of the mountain is that the beginner area is separate, keeping newer skiers away from the more advanced terrain. There are multiple summit-access chairs, plus a small lodge at the top. Sunapee isn’t a fancy ski resort, but it has everything you need for a good day on the mountain. That was especially useful because it was frequently cold when we skied there—we had multiple double buff days.
The terrain here features a lot of direct fall-line skiing, with long, relatively wide runs. This made for a more playful experience—I could go fast and hit moguls, while Amity had the ability to cruise on runs that weren’t totally sketchy. That said, the overall skier ability level isn’t great. There’s a noticeable issue with people not making turns. We saw way too many close calls—both with ourselves and others—caused by skiers flying straight down the hill, just barely in control. One day, we witnessed a full-on collision: a younger skier was bombing straight down the slope when a woman turned in front of him. He smoked her from behind. She screamed louder than Tanner Hall when he broke both his ankles. We were sure ski patrol would be taking her off the mountain. Naturally, we skied down to check it out, only to find her completely fine and getting ready to ski to the bottom. We died laughing—her scream was way over the top.
Our favorite part of skiing at Sunapee? The Waffle Cabin. Unlike most places, where you have to stop and unclip, this one is right on the slope—you can literally ski up, grab a waffle, and keep going. We’ve already raved about how good their waffles are, but being able to get one without taking off our gear? Next-level. Big win for Mount Sunapee. It’ll be a sad day when ski season rolls around and we don’t have a Waffle Cabin close by.
Sunapee also has amazing summit views. Below, a massive lake freezes over in the winter, with ice fishing huts scattered across it. One day after skiing, we headed down to check it out and were surprised to see people ice sailing. Picture a small toboggan fitted with skates and a sail—just big enough for one person. When they get going, they fly across the ice. I’d only ever seen it in old ski films, while Amity had never seen anything like it. It looked like a ton of fun.
Overall, Sunapee has everything a good ski mountain needs—long runs, easy-access lodges, solid food, and a great local vibe. It’s nothing flashy. It actually reminds me of Montana Snowbowl in Missoula. Here, it’s not about being the fanciest resort or the best skier—it’s about having fun and appreciating the quirky New Hampshire state park system. If given the choice between skiing here or at Crotched, Sunapee is slightly better, but not enough to justify doubling our drive time when we just want to get a few runs in. Thanks for keeping it real, Mount Sunapee!
Crotched Mountain
Overall Score 6.6/10
Open Terrain 6/10
Technicality of Terrain 5/10
Lodges 5/10
Snow Conditions 6/10
Vibe & Apres Scene 7/10
Chairlifts & Access 6/10
Parking 10/10
Crowds 8/10
This is the last mountain I’m reporting on in my Badness East Coast Ski Report series. It was the first mountain we learned about when we found out we were moving to Peterborough, and the last place I skied in New England before our season ended. Don’t let that 6.6 scare you. We had some of the most fun of the winter skiing here!
Crotched Mountain is just 20 minutes from our house, which meant we could get some skiing in whenever we wanted. The mountain is not a resort, and for good reason—this is a true mom-and-pop-style ski hill. Sure, it’s owned by big bad Vail Resorts, but the only sign of that is when they scan your Epic Pass at the lift. Otherwise, this has to be one of the smallest ski areas on the pass. Access to the mountain is a piece of cake. I was able to park slopeside several times, and the furthest we had to walk was no more than 5 min to the snow from our car.
We both fell in love with a few things about skiing here. First off, hills like this are where the core of the ski and snowboard industry lives. People are here purely to have fun—whether they’ve never skied before or they suck at it. That energy resonates throughout the mountain, and it makes for a surprisingly fun scene. The name comes from locals thinking the ridgeline looks like the part of a tree where a branch splits from the trunk—the crotch of the tree. Hence, Crotched Mountain. The locals hold strong to the real name: The Crotch!
The Crotch has two main lifts: a high-speed quad and an old-school triple chair. The quad, named Rocket, is total overkill for such a small mountain—it takes about 5 minutes to get to the top. But when you want to rack up serious hot laps, it’s very handy. Early in the season, there wasn’t much open. The first time we skied here, I think we did four runs and had already skied everything available. By the time the whole mountain opened, I was able to ski the entire thing in just 45 minutes. That was fun!
Skiers at The Crotch are a different breed. I’ve never seen so many people skiing with no poles, jackets unzipped and flapping in the wind, hands sticking straight out to the side, and skis pinned straight down the mountain. These people do not make turns and are going way faster than their skill level allows. Riding the chairlift, we’d watch them and place bets on how long it would take before they turned—or hit someone. Somehow, they’d get so close to each other and still not crash. Maybe that is what they mean with the state’s motto, “Live Fee or Die”!
The only thing that slows them down is fresh snow. We had one solid storm day here and got a taste of East Coast powder skiing. The night of the storm, we set up our own “snow stake” by placing a glass gingerbread man from the local maple syrup company outside. When we woke up and couldn’t see him anymore, we knew it was going to be a good day. I cannot tell you how surprised I was to find some actual real snow and tree skiing that day!
One of the best things about The Crotch is night skiing. This is where they shine. From Wednesday through Sunday, they keep the lights on until 9 p.m. A few times a season, they take it even further with Midnight Madness, keeping the lifts running until midnight. They used to go until 2 a.m., but apparently, that got too rowdy.
Before committing to a full Midnight Madness night, we figured we should ease into it, so our first night ski was on a Wednesday. This was pure nostalgia for me—I grew up night skiing every Wednesday at Big Mountain and hadn’t done it in years. We loved it. We tried to ski at least one night a week if we didn’t have anything else going on.
Wednesday and Thursday nights were the best. The one Friday night we skied? Total chaos. So many kids, and none of them making turns. At one point, I was carving down the run when I noticed a tiny child keeping pace with me in my peripheral vision. And I was going fast. He didn’t make a single turn—just bombed straight down, still in my field of view. I had to throw on the emergency brakes and let him blast past me. No way was I getting taken out by an out of control seven-year-old at The Crotch.
Our last time skiing here together was for the final Midnight Madness of the season. It was cold, which kept the crowds down. We doubled up on buffs and made a few runs. The best part? They were handing out glow sticks, giving away swag, and had live music at the base. It made for an awesome, lively night skiing scene—despite the cold. We decided it was a good time to leave when we passed the Ski Patrol team helping a guy into the ambulance who obviously had concussed himself. The snow was by far the iciest we’d skied all season. Full runs of ballroom ice. That’s just how it goes here—it’s either 10/10 ice, or there’s fresh snow that hasn’t yet been buried under manmade stuff.
Our favorite run at The Crotch was Velocity—or as Amity called it, Velocity-Raptor. Something about that name stuck, and we used it every time. It became our go-to run for hot laps. Whether it was icy or had fresh snow, Velocity-Raptor never disappointed.
My final day at The Crotch was a midday solo ski. I wanted to get in one good, sunny day before we left—because let’s be real, we’ve done nothing but ski in the cold this winter. It was a great way to say goodbye to a place I never would have skied if we hadn’t lived in Peterborough. And yet, I found myself grateful for the simplicity and low-key charm of The Crotch.
It’s never going to show up on anyone’s top ten ski resorts list, but for this area, it’s great. It gets people skiing. It creates a fun atmosphere. And when the snow does happen, you can still find powder. The Crotch will always have a place in my ski heart—even if it’s a tiny, mostly ice-covered spot.
I’ll always say this: The ski industry does not exist without places like Crotched Mountain and Mount Sunapee. These small, local hills breed the next generation of skiers and riders who eventually move on to bigger and better mountains—whether in the East or out West.
As our season comes to an end, it’s crazy to think that we survived and thrived in our first—and possibly only—winter in New England. I’ve always been curious about what East Coast skiing is really like. Now, I can say it’s about wearing as much flannel as possible, making the best out of mediocre conditions, smacking down delicious chocolate covered waffles, and taking advantage of the goods when they happen—because you never know when the next “Sleeper Day” will be.
Peace out, East Coast skiing! We’ll be back.