“Make new friends but keep the old ones. One is silver and the other is gold.
BJ, the friend and ski companion with whom Nancy Riggs Robart crossed the United States in the 1970s from Vermont to Florida. Photo courtesy of Nancy Riggs Robart
We crossed paths in the 1970s. She was from Pennsylvania and I was from New York. We were close in our passion for skiing and mountain life. The common life was at the rendezvous and the sharing of an art of living was the norm in the ski areas.
Our transplant to Vermont was propelled by this shared passion for skiing, and our friendship bonded together like links in a chain held by an anchor.
We became friends, as only people with common interests can. We shared hard times, good times, broken bones, broken relationships, as well as food and shelter, all while supporting ourselves with seasonal jobs as waitress at stations, working for the office in ‘accommodation and ski lessons for children.
After many years of renting houses in groups, we moved from Killington to Stowe, again sharing our passion for skiing, once climbing to the top of Mount Mansfield and brushing the cool powder, feeling the fluidity of flying briefly through the white, cloudy down. In the fall, we hiked the mountain trails with German Shepherds leading the way, sniffing the dirt trails hidden by fallen fall leaves on Spruce Mountain. We cross-country skied in Smugglers Notch and swam in the cold waters of the quarries of Vermont.
Out of season, we took a trip to Florida in his little Honda. We drove straight on with a crate of Tab in the backseat, which we drank to stay awake. We stopped at the Washington Monument at midnight to gaze in wonder at its height against the starry sky. We passed the flaming slag heaps burning through the Pennsylvania coal yards and stopped to swim in the warm waters of Daytona Beach. Across the Alligator Alley and the Gulf Coast to St. Pete, we stayed on our detour and continued, as our country in the 70s rebounded.
Back in the mountains of Vermont, we spent a few more years doing the chores of jobs that allowed us to ski the snowy and windblown slopes above and in powder snow.
Lifestyle was the most important thing for us transplants in the 1970s. And I have no regrets.
“A circle is round. It has no end. This is how long I want to be your friend.
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