Early morning Uber rides can go either way. Most of the time, I let the passengers set the tone and the rides are quiet with few words exchanged.

On this morning, I headed off to Woodstock for an airport run and expected to drive back to Rutland in silence, but a mom and two young children, ages 2-6 loaded into my car. The mom was obviously tired (who wouldn’t be) but the elder daughter exuded energy only youth can provide.

“What kind of music do you like?” I asked her.

“Miss. Rachel?”

With a one-year-old niece, I only know what babies like, and the cute little girl just shook her head.

“She likes Taylor Swift,” mom interjected.

“Oh, that I can do!” I exclaimed, quickly switching the radio to Taylor Swift 360 on Pandora.

I tried to calm down as they did some prep for the start of school in the back seat. Once the youngest had nodded off and the elder was occupied I decided to ask some questions.

They were from Nantucket – interesting as I’d driven a sweet older woman from Nantucket the week before – but as I learned more, it became apparent they were more local than tourists. A few more journalistic inquiries and I’d find out she was the wife of one a guy a went to high school with. After the fact I googled him to find he was now a celebrity chef with three restaurants in Mass — which doesn’t surprise me at all. 

It’s an awesome success story that left me smiling as I prepared to head home for a bit.

I was nearly back at my house when the app pinged again and I was off to Comfort Inn. There I found a CDL truck driver just trying to get the hell out of Rutland. A short fare to the rental car place and I figured it was probably the last I’d get, as midday approached and Rutland uber is generally dead.

Imagine my surprise when another ping brought me right back to comfort Inn, where a thru-hiker I named Sunfish (didn’t get his actual trail name) was waiting for a ride to the airport.

“Thanks so much for coming to get me,” he said with a slow Wisconsin drawl. “I thought I was going to have to walk to the airport.”

“I think you’ve walked enough,” I laughed.

“1,700 miles,” he said. “But I’m heading home.”

He was older, I’d peg him at mid 60s-early 70s and told me he’d spent the past six years hiking the PCT, Arizona Trail, Continental Divide Trail and had made it all the way up the Appalachian Trail from Georgia but just felt like it was time to go home. He planned to do the rest next year, and I can’t say I blamed him.

We chatted about all his favorite places in the country (too many to count) and I agreed with most of them.

Even though I’d accessed by them car and he was on foot, I still felt cool to be able to go tit for tat with such a well-traveled guy. Plus I got to bust out my, “I’ve been everywhere, man, just call me Johnny Cash” joke to which he laughed and replied, “you’re a lot prettier than Johnny Cash.”

As I dropped him at the airport with a smile on my face the app pinged again, with a pick up at the Days Inn headed up Route 4. More hikers, I figured, and I was right. 

I’d already had a great one, but the last ride of the day was by far my favorite. It was a trail couple known as Feral and Breadcrumbs. I instantly connected with Breadcrumbs, as I said, “you guys just saved me so much money, I was headed to Michael’s to use my $5 off voucher and buy some pushpins.”

She laughed. “I had to restrain myself from going in there. I’m hiking 2000 miles, I don’t need to carry anything else. But I am the coupon queen!” 

She was from Tennessee and Feral was from Montana. He was an ex marine with 6 daughters and a horse ranch and he was a non-stop riot. I laughed all the way to the dispensary and then the rest of the way to the trail head as he regaled us with one-liners and innuendos and Breadcrumbs and I added our own witticisms.

As we neared the drop off, I told them not to forget about the full moon the next night.

“Everything will feel different in the morning,” I said.

Feral just laughed.

“I turn into a werewolf, actually. She’s going to unzip the tent and see me skinning a live deer.”

“Yep,” she replied. “And I’ll just zip the tent back up and go to sleep.”

The post Uber Stories: 10,000 rides: “Reality vs escape” first appeared on Brooke Geery.

On Friday morning, two giant white pines towered precariously over my house.

Next to them, a smaller grove of maples, hemlock and an oak leaned, fighting for nutrients vs. these fast-growing, parasitic beasts.

Underneath, a crab apple tree I named “Twiggy” fought for sunlight.

Road adjacent, another crab apple grew into the power lines and scraped every truck that drove by.

When trees grow where they shouldn’t, it’s dangerous. After 70-some years, these seven trees waved violently with every storm that ripped through the Marble Valley.

So, despite the cost and my deep love of trees, they had to go

Once cut, we saw they were rotting from the inside out. And for the record, behind my house, 1,000 more of the same trees live on.

Over three days, the best crew in Rutland cut and hauled away the trees. Once cut, the wood was taken by a local Vermonter for processing. (Fun fact: his license plate simple reads “John” and he may have been one of the first John’s to ever own a car in Vermont.)

Before you get your panties in a bunch about how I killed the trees in a time when we’re trying to reduce carbon in the atmosphere, appreciate that this was necessary and these beautiful trees will live again as beautiful furniture, a heat source or even a new house someday.

Special thanks to Lear Plowing and Tree Service

The post Watch: Saving my house from evil trees! first appeared on Brooke Geery.

Your favorite hipster couponer is back! However, no coupons required to score these deals… this was a good old fashioned clearance-rack shopping spree in the tax-free utopia of West Lebanon, New Hampshire.

Here’s the break down:

LISTEN Community Services

Bears in Canoe tchochke – $1.50

Asian Elephant tchochke- $2.50

Glamourous Mirror – $6

Total $11 (including $1 donation)

Hubert’s Family Outfitters

Western Chief Rain boots – $49 (original $55 – not the greatest deal but something I actually needed)

North face hiking boots $49.99 (original $97.99- DEAL OF THE DAY!)

Kedzie cross body bag $24.99 (original $34 – kinda just wanted this)

Caribbean sand bikini $22.99 (original $58 – it actually fits, too!)

Total – $147.96

Sierra

Sandals – $15 (original $24.99 – Viva Mexico)

Nike swim top – $10 (original $29.99 – Swoosh life!)

Martha Stewart tank top $7 (original $14.99 – True story, I tried this on in the spring, said, ‘I don’t like it for $15 but if it’s meant to be, it will still be in my size on clearance,’ AND IT WAS!)

Kodan black seersucker dress $15 (original $19.99 – just a nice dress)

Total – $47

Walmart

• Solar stair lights x 2- $5.50 (original $10 – must remember to install next year)
• 100 foot hose $29.97 (original 49.97 – pice of crap but enough to get me through the rest of the season)

Total- $40.97

The Home Depot

• Canna Lilly

$2.50 (original $6.98)

Total – $2.50

Total spent: $238.43

Total saved: $156.56 (65%)

The post Hipster Couponing: West Leb Clearance Spree first appeared on Brooke Geery.

Staying positive can be a challenge in today’s crazy world. Add in the recent celestial events (a total solar eclipse) and the impending end of summer, and it truly feels like things are spinning out of control at a million mph.

But when I pick up a new passenger, it doesn’t matter what sort of insanity is going on in my own head or the world at large, I am immediately distracted by whatever is going on in their life. I call it uber therapy and I recommend it over betterhelp.com any day. 

So, today I picked a guy up at Pico. Originally from Georgia (the country) and on a vacation from his job as an Uber driver in New York City, Gigi* had spent all day trying to get a ride. His car had broken down on the trip up and he’d had it towed to…somewhere. He just wanted to know if it was done.

One of the biggest challenges in the rural uber game is that the uber app doesn’t understand how Vermont roads/addresses work. And usually when you realize you’re completely lost, there’s no service to help you figure out where you should have gone.

This was one of those rides.

Gigi’s car had been towed to an auto shop in Sudbury/Pittsfield/Brandon (depending on which app you used) appropriately named “Boondock Motors.” 

Gigi had been calling the shop all day and received no answer on the status of his car, but with vacation coming to an end and that NYC energy hard to quell, he just wanted an update, even if it meant taking an uber to the middle of nowhere. And no surprise, it turned out to be in one of those “can’t get here from there locations.” 

Both remote and stunningly gorgeous, Boondocks itself consisted of an acre of broken down vehicles plopped in the middle of corn fields. A log cabin and massive shop completed the property. 

Unfortunately when we got there, we found Gigi’s car locked in the shop, and a field of grazing sheep, but no humans anywhere. We both got out the car, me trying to capture the epic scene in photos and Gigi just hoping for any answers.

Eventually a woman walked out on the porch of the house adjacent and Gigi went up to her to see if she knew anything. 

“I’m just the cleaning lady, but let me ask the kids,” she said.

She came back out and informed us that the owner would be back “soon.” I thanked her and said I’d reach out to my friend who was a “car guy” to see if he might have any ideas. She smiled and thanked me, then went back to cleaning.

With my FB message to the “car guy” yet to be answered, I asked Gigi what he wanted to do and he said, “let’s just go.”

But as we started to pull out, a pick up truck pulled in. I stopped and Gigi hopped out to check with the driver, who had no info for us at all. But a teenage girl offered to run in and call her dad.

Meanwhile, my friend had returned my message and gave me the owner of the shop’s name with a casual, “I stay away from there” sidenote.

Great, I thought.

Cell service was a thing at Boondocks but maybe it wasn’t the best thing. Because with my immediate reaction to google everything, I entered the name and this was the first headline to come up: 

WCAX: Multiple men arrested for stolen ATVs

A little more doomscrolling and then this:

Rutland Herald: Police name woman in death

I showed Gigi the article and we decided that maybe he should just come back tomorrow. Back to Pico we went. This time it was much more direct, but still a 25 minute one-way ride and in total nearly two hours of our time. 

“Well, at least you know where it is now,” I shrugged.

“Yeah, hopefully I can find an uber tomorrow,” he said. 

*names and some other details have been changed for “privacy.” Facts are facts. Do your own research.

The post Uber Stories: The Boondocks: 10,000 Rides first appeared on Brooke Geery.

Nick got me there. To Middlebury, that is. He’d requested a ride at 7:45 a.m. from Sheep Farm Road — every bit as quaint as it sounds — to the Rutland Airport on Saturday morning, Aug. 7. $46. Which even without tip mathed out to about $25 an hour — My minimum benchmark for accepting a ride. 

I figured I could give that one ride first thing, then head home. Then I could choose if I’d head south to the Ludlow skatepark contest or north to Warren for the annual jam. I was honestly torn. I knew both would be fun. I hadn’t been to Ludlow since they rebuilt it, but I’d stopped by Warren the previous day and received just enough motivation and shit to feel the pull in that direction, too. But I disgress, this is supposed to be a story about Uber rides. 

When I pulled up to the house to pick up Nick, I realized I’d been there before. I’m pretty sure I dropped him off once or something. I arrived as scheduled and swiftly turned around so my trunk was ready to open for his bags and we could zip out of the driveway and back to Rutland with ease. And then I waited. And waited. And waited. 

All told it was about 15 minutes — uber won’t give you a cancel fee if you cancel before the 10 minute mark on scheduled rides, so I had no choice. At 7:45 I sent him a message. Then another. Then I called using the free data service they provide when there’s no cell coverage. Thank god for my satellite plan, I thought. But Nick didn’t answer. 

I was a beautiful morning though, and I said f it. I’ll get out and walk around. See if there’s were any pictures to be taken. I was surrounded by classic Vermont barns bathed in early-morning sunlight and I had direct access to private property. Why not take advantage? 

I snapped a couple shots of the barn next door and then got back in the car. 3 more minutes to go.

I swiped around on the map. There was a workforce place (in fact the barn I’d just photographed) and a bee sanctuary near by. I thought, maybe someone else had requested the ride and put in the address wrong, so as the time ticked by, I pulled out to explore those options.

I took a couple different angles then headed back to the original address to give Nick one more chance to appear. When he did not, I confidently canceled the ride, got my $21 cancel fee and decided to head back to town to see what other shots I could get. Plus, the Middlebury language immersion program had wrapped up the previous day, and certainly someone else would be requesting a ride soon.

I drove down the dirt road a few hundred feet and turned into the driveway of the workforce farm next door. It was stunning and as a photographer, I knew it was where I was meant to be. Not for the pick up, but to capture this shot.

I was waiting for the sun to come back out trying to find a sweet angle of downtown Middlebury when I got my next request.

Xavier.*

A fun French name, fitting for the French program I thought and pictured someone from Montreal or Austria— perhaps learning Russian or German this summer in Vermont.

Of course, I was dead wrong.

Xavier was in his 30s, black and from Minnesota. 

“So is Xavier your real name or your French class name?” I asked.

He laughed. “It’s my real name.”

He was in fact studying French that summer. The name was just a coincidence, but we started our chat by talking about his classmate Sam, who I’d driven the day before and was married to an Irish guy. That led us to love and marriage very quickly and he said, “I’m not trying to date to date. I am trying to date to get married and have a family.”

I told him my divorce story and talk soon pivoted to business, law, work, real estate and other things. It felt like two executives having a meeting in a board room. Productive, exciting and high energy. I stayed in Route 7 the entire way so my brain could focus on our chat and the time melted away with record pace.

As I was getting close to the airport, I got my next request. $6 picking up one door down at the airport. Easy accept, although I’d already made the conscious decision to accept all rides until I was ready to head to Warren at 1, because I knew if I did, the uber gods would get me there and pay me along the way.

Ride 2

My next fare was a family of four. Mom originally from Vermont, dad from the Midwest and young kids probably from previous relationships. They lived in Chicago and had been visiting family in Vermont. They were going to do a little Burlington tourism before heading to Montreal to fly home. 

The vibe was very different. Quiet and calm, the kids were cute and well-behaved. I told them about my brief stint in Chicago and asked what they did.

“I’m a consultant,” the dad sitting in my passenger seat replied. “And my wife has a counseling practice, marriage and families mostly.”

“Important work,” I replied.

“Yeah, relationships are hard.” 

We continued to chat until arriving at the Greyhound station, where the mom had figured was a good downtown drop off. But with two kids and bags, it seemed like a long walk to anything good, so I brought them right to Church Street instead. 

Ride 3

I decided it was time to stop the app and pee. Burlington is a busy market, especially on a Saturday, and you don’t get a break unless you turn it off. So I clicked last ride and took a young woman from point a to point b. We didn’t really talk, but she did laugh when I hit a speed bump a little too fast and couldn’t help but let out a little gasp. 

“They really sneak up on you,” she said.

I dropped her off at an apartment complex and pulled into a parking spot to find the nearest restroom. Uber has a feature where it shows you what’s nearby and I selected Cumberland farms as my destination. I clicked navigate, which of course, signed me back online. Immediately I got another ping. $9. Beholden to my robot master, I accepted. 

Guess I’ll hold it, I thought.

Ride 4

My next pick up was at a low-income apartment complex on the waterfront and the couple was going fishing on the Winooski River. On a hotness scale, she was a 3 and he was maybe a 4, but you could tell they were meant for each other. Our banter was instant. She was originally from Vermont and had to live in Burlington because she was on disability and couldn’t drive. He’d recently moved up from Georgia (the state) because, as she so eloquently put it, “we fell madly in love.”

My heart swelled a little bit. “You know what they say about a man who can fish?”

“What?” She asked.

“That he’s a keeper, you’ll always be fed.” 

She laughed and asked if we could stop by a convenience store on the way, assuming it was still there. I said sure and we headed off to Winooski. 

Winooski is, of course, being completely rebuilt and the store she remembered had been converted into a Korean restaurant, so she said, “oh well, just take us to the destination.” 

I stopped the car and she grabbed one of the water bottles I keep in my door for passengers. 

“Is this free?” She asked.

“Yes, that’s for you. Please take it.”

She happily obliged and I turned the app off again, planning to head to the nearby Shell Station to finally go pee.

I gassed up and took a few minutes to reset my brain before turning the app back on. Another instant bing, this time to Richmond— 10 highway miles south. It was a decent fare from a time stand point and I was excited to see double digits on the offer card. $16.

Ride 5

I zipped down to a clean, active farm on Route 2 where I found Jose, Diego and Fernando waiting for a ride to the University Mall. Dressed in their finest western wear and reeking of cologne, they went to pile in the back seat and I gestured that one could sit up front. Jose’s English was the best, but it was still broken. I dug deep for my espanol, but came up short and only managed to get their names and that they were from Mexico. 

Once we said our adios, the smell lingered and I rolled down the windows to head to my next fare at the UVM campus. 

Ride 6

I picked up Chris, a handsome black guy with a big smile, and asked, “does it still smell like cologne in here?”

With an accent I couldn’t quite pinpoint he replied, “No. Well, maybe a little.”

I told him about the previous ride and he said, “I’ve noticed Americans don’t wear a lot of cologne.”

“I guess,” I said. “Where are you from?”

“I’m from the Congo.”

He was at UVM to get his PhD in mechanical engineering but before we got to that he continued to tell me his thoughts on Americans.

“The only thing I’ve noticed about all Americans is they love to fight and they love guns.”

I had to correct him. 

“Hey, I’m a lover not a fighter. I don’t like guns and I don’t really want to be friends with people who have them. So be careful putting people in boxes.”

“This is a really nice car,” he quickly replied.

The rest of the ride was pleasant and the next request was exactly what I’d been waiting for. A $25 ride to Huntington, Vt. Not exactly closer Warren time-wise, but in the right direction and off the beaten path. 

Ride 7

It was another airport pick up. A couple in their 50s who’d just flown back from vacation in Alaska. Needless to say, they were beat, but offered classic Vermont vibes. The woman immediately put on a mask and said, “I hope it’s just the flight, but I have a sore throat.”

“That’s very considerate of you, I appreciate it,” I said.

The ride had one stop in Richmond. We were picking up their “littles” ages 4 and 9. They didn’t give many more details, but I kind of assumed they meant grandkids because I’m so used to driving 19-year-old moms.  

But as I’ve learned in previous rides, you should never assume. And when we stopped at the house it became super clear that it was the uncle’s and these were their kids. 

“Daddy!” the youngest screamed with glee. The dad snapped in the car seat and handed him a souvenir spiderman toy he’d made sure to keep on top of his luggage. The older son had a backpack with a baseball bat and mitt attached and immediately launched into a story about the big game later. “It’s basically the World Series,” he said to his mom. 

It was so touching that it took every ounce of my being not to straight up cry, but we still had ten minutes to go, so I breathed deep and we headed out to Huntington. 

We pulled into a classic Vermont family home on dirt road with multiple turtle crossing signs. I had zero service, satellite or otherwise and I fumbled to find directions as they unloaded. When they were done I asked, “would I be able to hop on your WiFi?”

“It’s really slow,” the dad replied. “You just need directions out of here?”

The mom chimed in, “just go back the way you came and turn left on the pavement. You’ll get service back pretty quickly. And if you’re going to Warren, you’ll wanna get back on 89 anyway.”

I thanked her and backed out of their driveway ready to leave the uber world and become a civilian again. 

Once I got back to cell service I realized I absolutely did not want to take 89 to Warren when the shorter and more scenic option was down Route 100 and over the Appalachian gap. Like, duh.

I had to pee again and the problem with this plan was there are not public restrooms on this rural route, but there is ample nature and I finally found the perfect pull off and gave myself another break, sitting in the woods completely alone and watching the river below. 

It was just the reset I needed because it was time to shift into play mode and the Appalachian gap lookout point was only a mile or two away. 

The wind was whipping and puffy clouds dotted the sky. I busted out my tripod to attempt to timelapse the moment, hopping the guardrail to get the right angles.  

As I was attempting to steady my shot, a heavy-set mom with her adult son walked over. 

“See, I told you we should go where the person with the tri-pod is.” 

I laughed, “the view is infinitely better on this side, too.”

The son grimaced as his mom excitedly started to climb the guardrail in her pink plastic slides.

“I make him so nervous,” she laughed. “I can’t even walk down the stairs without him freaking out. But my balance has gotten better.”

Honestly, she was making me nervous too, as I looked down the steep embankment in front of me and the cold wind shook my tripod. But I admired her gumption, pointed out the low spot to cross, and offered her a shoulder to lean on. She succeeded in joining me and gasped at the vastly improved views.

“You weren’t kidding. See, I knew you would know.”

It felt good and I was satisfied with my shots so I made sure she got safely back to the pavement and then wished them well.

Next stop, Warren. 

That family was going to Warren too, but Warren Falls, where as I was going to the skatepark for shred fest V. I knew that like my uber passengers, I wouldn’t be seeing them again. 

I stopped for provisions- beer, a cooler and ice. I was so proud of myself for not just settling for warm beer like my younger self would have, and packed the cooler tightly with a 6 pack of Naragansett tall boys that the clerk and I had deemed a much better value at $7 than the $13 6 pack of Von Trapp light smalls. 

I was about to take off when I realized I had beer but no water, so I swung back into the convenience store to grab a bottle.

“Long time no see,” the clerk said almost on cue.

“This is how I know I’m an adult,” I told him. “My younger self believed there was water in beer.”

He laughed. “I used to think the same thing about coffee.”

Now fully ready for fun, I pulled into the first parking spot at the Warren Skatepark without even looking for another one, put on my knee pads snd helmet and went to go skate before things got “too crazy.”

The event was near perfect and in addition to skating, bands and creating content, I ran into Nicholas, who I’d seen there the day before. 

“Glad to see you made it back. I knew you would,” he said. 

After some skating, we started to chat again. 

“Have we met before?” I asked. “Because I feel like we have.”

“You mean, before yesterday?” he said. “Probably.”

“Yeah, it was in a previous life, I think. I refer to every five year period of my life as a life time.”

“That makes sense,” he said. “I feel that way too. So now that you’re an adult, the only thing left is kids.”

His words hit like a dagger after the family- themed day I had. 

“Are you my prophet?” I laughed. 

“Maybe.”

And on a day I set out to make $46 and couldn’t decide between going north and south, I’d handed my faith to the universe and made $120 instead. 

Plus I’d gotten so much more than money out of the day. What I’d earned were “intangible assets,” a term Xavier had used that stuck. Some things are worth way more than money. 

*some names and details have been changed for privacy stuff, others stayed the same for dramatic effect. Seriously though, message me with any concerns.

The post Uber Stories: Intangible Assets: 10,000 Rides first appeared on Brooke Geery.

Some days it seems like the universe is trying out a theme on me and my Uber rides and yesterday the motif du jour was the military.

I started my day at Middlebury College, where I picked up Samuel for a ride to the Burlington airport. From the pick up locale, I assumed he was part of the language immersion program, so I used that knowledge to break the ice and soon learned he was from Ireland and here to study French. 

But as our ride progressed, his Irish accent subsided into a Maryland one and I’d learned he was an ex pat, who married an Irish guy and was getting his PHD in Military disbursement. While I usually avoid the politics talk on rides, I felt pretty confident we’d be on the same page with the general terror that is the world today, and we barely had a minute of silence during the hour-long drive. 

After I dropped him at the BTV rental car counter, I headed out to Essex to meet up with my bestie, the Internet-famous Jerm, in hopes of recreating the meme of men holding sunflowers like fish I’d seen the day before. 

Jerm happens to work as a communications specialist at Camp David, so of course, I couldn’t efficiently gain clearance to just stop by for a visit. The five corners of Essex seemed like a great place to meet. And it did turn out to be ideal, with underground parking available (so my car doesn’t overheat before the next ride), and a random meeting of my sister’s best friend Audrey at the Box Car bakery, where I stopped to pee (it really is a small world, especially in Vermont.) 

Across the street was also a perfect Vermont-y backdrop for Jerm to pose at — a weathered wood wall adorned with lush ivy. Together we made the meme magic we were looking for with military precision in 10 minutes flat.

I started to edit my photos as I sat waiting for my next fare, and a few minutes later the app popped up a $25 ride, picking up in Jericho and dropping off on Church Street. I did the math and with less than an hour of total drive time, I figured it was worth doing and likely to be an adventure, so off I went.

As I was pulling up to the pick up point, my passenger, Greg, messaged saying he was walking towards the front gate. I realized at that point I was headed for the Ethan Allen gun range and National Guard headquarters, an ID required locations. Not trying to force the issue, I waved at the guard and pulled into the traffic circle in front.

When Greg finally got in my car and apologized for the delay due to his longer-than-expected walk, I just shrugged. It’s not like after driving 20 minutes to a pick up I was going to leave without him. Plus, it seemed a perfectly fitting ride.

“I’ve had a really military-themed day,” I said to break the ice, telling him about my two previous experiences. 

A man after my heart, he quickly replied, “Good thing you wore your camo pants then.” 

“OMG, you’re right,” I laughed. “It’s almost like I knew!” 

And to be fair, I did spend awhile selecting my outfit this morning, so maybe, just maybe, I did. 

The post Uber Stories: Classified Rides: 10,000 Rides first appeared on Brooke Geery.

Not many people can say they’ve covered New York’s Central Park with snow, but Greg Hiltz can. A select few people can say they’ve pulled off making enough snow for a World Cup course in one night, and they’d probably have to thank Hiltz for it. In his 45-year career making snow at Killington Resort, he created, innovated, and made so many laugh, but on March 21, 2023, Hiltz took out his channel locks and turned off his final snow gun at The Beast.

“That’s true, I’m done. Love the mountain, love the people, love the job, but I’ve done my time,” Greg says with the authority he’s become so well known for. “I will miss the camaraderie, the challenge, the excitement and the ability to turn around and say, ‘Wow, I had my hands on that. I helped do that.’”

Hiltz’s Killington career began during the 1977/78 season, one year after he’d first applied and realized he wasn’t quite ready to make the move from New York to Vermont. When he was offered a snowmaking job for the second time, he dove into the lifestyle headfirst.

“Back then, single and free, I would work all night and then ski during the day on my first day off. Go home and crash and then ski the next day, go home and crash and then go back to work for a while. It was awesome,” he says.

It wasn’t long before his dedication and work ethic earned him a promotion.

“So, I was working on the night shift, and by my second year, the night foreman decided to stop showing up. So ‘tag you’re it, Hiltz.’ I was promoted to the night foreman and I got a $.25 an hour raise from $2.75 to $3 an hour,” he remembers.

Hiltz was living his best life, when on July 25, 1980, his career (almost) came to its premature conclusion. Working on a snowmaking pipe above South Ridge, Greg’s hand was crushed under 900 pounds of steel.

“It was bad. It was real bad,” he says. “But through the whole thing, I kept my wits about me. I had two guys working with me and I told them what we should do to free my hand up. We basically ended up ripping it out. I called dispatch, got on the radio and said, ‘Hey, need some help up here.’”

Since no one could drive to where they were located, the trio met the truck, which happened to be loaded with 13 cases of dynamite. After a quick bandage job, they headed down the work road.

“They weren’t going slow!” Greg laughs. “The dynamite is bouncing around and I’m thinking, jeez, this could be the last ride I ever take.”

They arrived at Snowshed unscathed and unloaded the TNT. The ambulance was coming up the access road, and they flagged it down in the sweltering July heat. The paramedics pulled over opening the door to the back of the bus.

“The last thing I remember, I said, ‘What are you gonna do, try and cook me in there?’” he laughs. “Because there was no AC and when they opened the door, the hot air just fell out.”

After three days in the Rutland Hospital, Hiltz was transferred to Albany Medical Center, where he said he was fortunate to have a great surgeon, whom he credits with saving his hand. The injury ended up sidelining him from work for a year and a half. But in 1982, he was able to come back to Killington as the first-ever snowmaking control room operator.

“It was a pretty basic system then. Just a big control board with meter readings so you knew the pump was running or it wasn’t,” he says. “Probably two years later, I was getting back the ability to use my left hand, so I went back to making snow at night.”

He kept up that grind for nearly a decade, but by the season of 1992/93, his family was growing.

“At that point my daughter was 9 years old, my son was 7. I had to have some work life balance, so I went to days,” he said. “I still made snow right up until 2021/22.”

1979 during the Bear Mountain build

Over those 40-plus years, Hiltz saw the resort grow first-hand, and was always the loudest voice in the room—not afraid to speak up to get the job done right. He was on the crew that laid the first snowmaking pipe for Bear Mountain, which is a memory he’ll never forget.

“That was 1979 and there I am in a big bulldozer with a winch on it, working with a welder and laying the pipe down the hill. I can remember one day when we were doing that our radios weren’t working, but we still had to continue moving the pipe. From where I was perched on Outer Limits – about 300 yards below where there’s trees on the left and on the right when you ride the [Bear Quad] – I was yelling. They could hear me at the bottom and understand what I was saying. Everyone laughed about that.”

Fast forward 35 years, all the way to the first Audi FIS Ski World Cup event in 2016. As Snowmaking Manager, Hiltz was tasked with turning grass into a World Cup course for the first time. He recalls the first visit from Tom Johnston, who oversees all World Cup course builds worldwide.

“We had guns on the first day, we’re plugging along. He rode the lift and said we didn’t quite have it. The next day, we rode the lift again and we basically awestruck him. He just kept shaking his head. We got to the top and he pulled us aside and said, ‘you know, in my entire career of running World Cup races and overseeing the snowmaking, I have never seen so much power on one trail. Oh, by the way, you guys killed it, you’ve got enough snow.’”

To pull off that feat, Hiltz said he spent three days building enough splitters to enable 70 hydrants to run more than 100 guns on Superstar.

“The guys were joking that they could walk down the trail and step from gun to gun. That’s how tight together they were,” he says.

Indeed, Hiltz’s tenacity and resourcefulness have been integral in Killington securing the Heroic Killington Cup for six years running.

“We will remember Greg for his legacy,” says Killington President and General Manager Mike Solimano. “His unwavering commitment to quality (always telling me – and John Cumming we need to spend more on snowmaking, at every chance he had.) The world-class reputation of Killington Ski Resort owes much to Greg’s tireless efforts, his leadership, and his commitment to the art of snowmaking.”

On May 18, Hiltz’s storied career was celebrated at the Killington Grand Hotel, with a party for the ages. He was handed a Simon Pearce replica World Cup trophy and bid a fond farewell by the team he led so well. Even Killington Founder Preston Smith sent along a note of thanks and congratulations.

“Looking back as founder and CEO of Killington Ski Resort, I remember so many employees and their commitment and dedication to the success of Killington. Greg stands out. [His] determination exposed a strong work ethic, which then turned into leadership. Moving on to become a master of snowmaking and contributing to our company’s leading product and success story. This is not just about [his] work ethic and accomplishments, it is really about the ever-positive attitude [he] possesses,” Smith says.

In the past few years, Hiltz had stepped into an advisory role at Killington, working on projects with Director of Planning Jeff Temple that ran the gamut from research for the Great Gulf village to signing off on dig safe permits for major snowmaking projects at the resort. His experience made him the go-to expert.

“You need a dig safe permit before you can dig. There’s power lines, there’s comm lines, there’s potable water and there’s snowmaking. I’ve had digs all over the mountain so I know where stuff is,” he said. “I won’t say I know everything, but I know quite a bit about where everything is.”

He also knows everything there is to know about snowmaking and is excited to take his knowledge with him onto his next challenge. As of April, he is selling snowmaking pipe around New England. He says this time, his retirement from Killington Resort is final, but he wouldn’t change it for the world.

“I’ve had a great life at Killington, there’s no doubt about it,” he says. “We all have trials and tribulations. I had some incidents that set me back, and I’m the kind of person that I overcome. Period. End of story. I’ll always overcome.”

Passing the torch. Greg Hiltz (left) and Snowmaking Manager Greg Gleason

The post Legendary Snowmaker Greg Hiltz Retires After 45 Years first appeared on Brooke Geery.

By Brooke Geery

If you grew up in Rutland in the 90s, you likely have a memory of the Sound Barrier and its brightly colored banner on Center Street. Whether you were after music, clothing or skate and snowboard supplies, the store provided anything and everything an alt-teen could desire.

Owner Jeff Sanborn helped rural kids keep up with the trends and always had a line on that obscure CD or T-shirt. But in 2003, burnt out on the retail scene, he closed his doors to the public and moved his business online.

“It’s funny ‘cuz when I closed people were like, ‘must be nice to be retiring early,’” he laughed. “Ummm, not quite.”

Sanborn continued “grinding it down,” slinging goods on Ebay, Craigslist and more recently Facebook Marketplace. He keeps an office behind the original store location downtown.

“I still come in my office everyday attemptin’ to make somethin’ happen!”

Typically, he comes out of hiding each summer to set up a booth for the annual sidewalk sales in Rutland, but since those were cancelled, he decided to set up a pop-up shop on Wales St. for the holidays instead.

“Our annual 35 year tradition of sidewalk sales obviously couldn’t happen this summer. I was bummed on many levels, for sure. I’ve gotten used to seein’ so many old friends and customers that look forward to hookin’  up on some gear and catchin’ up. It’s crazy to see old friends that I watched grow up in the shop roll down with kids of their own now,” Sanborn said. “So, I decided to do a pop-upper to blow out all sortsa gear.”

Sanborn fondly remembers December as the best time to run a shop, anyway.  “The holidays were the best times in the shop, ‘cuz the vibe was different in December! It’s only five weeks, so hopefully I won’t have flashbacks of why I bailed out on retail back in the day!”

The shop will basically be a sidewalk sale-style blow out, but indoors, of course.

“Everything must go!” Sanborn said. “No reasonable, semi-intelligent offers will be refused. The more ya buy, the cheaper stuff gets. We will have shopping carts that we’ve rounded up from all four corners of the city for people to load their gear out and to their awaiting vehicles.”

Things will get rolling on Black Friday with evening hours beginning at 3 p.m. and going until people stop coming. He’ll close up for good around New Years. Masks and social distancing will be required.

After years of internet sales, Sanborn is looking forward to some real human interaction. “As burnt out as I was on retail when I closed up shop 17 years ago, I can honestly say that I’m excited to hopefully relive some of  the good times and memories over the holidays. Then I’ll vaporize right back to the comfy confines of my panic room. Roll your pennies and nickels. Bring back your empties, check the seat cushions then be there!”

The post Sound Barrier pop-up shop coming to Rutland first appeared on Brooke Geery.

Originally published in the Mountain Times- November 4, 2020

Warren Miller’s 71st feature film will stream Nov. 7

By Brooke Geery

For the past 71 years, the start of the season has been marked by a new Warren Miller movie, and although Covid-19 has changed the premiere format, skiers will still delight in a new film which takes them around the globe from top to bottom, including a trip to the Beast of the East.

The Killington segment explores everything that goes into putting on the World Cup event, and also includes some freeskiing from Killington-bred skier Jim Ryan and Minnesota native Kaylin Richardson. In interviews on the Warren Miller website, Ryan and Richardson remember one morning fondly.

“Kaylin and I got to open up this run called Skyeburst in perfect cowboy cord just as the sun was coming up over a frozen Vermont dreamscape. Unreal. We got to the bottom and turned to each other… I can’t even remember what we said, but we both knew it was special,” Ryan said.

“There had been a rain event earlier in the week so all the trees were flocked in glittering frost. As the golden winter sun rose, it reflected off every surface in sight. And then Jimmy and I took off, making huge carving arcs all the way down,” Richardson said. “Every aspect of that run was dazzling.”

Killington locals will recognize the terrain, as well as some familiar characters such as Roger Boutard a.k.a. the Killington Bird Man, known for his extravagant dress.

“When I first wore my outfit I liked the extra attention, then it got my picture in Powder magazine. When someone asked why I wear my outfit, I would simply say, to get my picture in Powder magazine,” he said. “Now I can say I wore the outfit to get in the Warren Miller movie!”

Appropriate retro attire is one of the things “Future Retro” narrator Jonny Moseley recommends for getting full enjoyment out of the virtual premiere on Nov. 7. (See his tips below)

Like any Warren Miller film premiere, these virtual events will be lively and will act as the official kickoff to winter. Consisting of a one-hour virtual red carpet, with athlete appearances, behind-the-scenes interviews, sponsor shout-outs and vintage throwbacks, these premieres will be hosted by Olympian and longtime Warren Miller narrator Jonny Moseley.

Viewers will be invited to transform their living room, garage, backyard, basement or beyond into the ultimate ski film premiere venue. Small, socially-safe watch parties are welcome for the livestreaming events, and attendees can stream or cast the film from their internet browser onto their smart TVs or streaming devices via their smartphones or desktop. Viewers will have access to the event for up to 48 hours, and each virtual ticket includes up to four people––complete with entries into the nightly door prizes, national sweepstakes and up to four coupon codes. Should someone want to attend with more guests, they will be encouraged to purchase additional tickets. General admission tickets for four people are $30.

“Hopefully the convenience and accessibility of the virtual experience will reach a new and wider audience, who may not have been able to attend a live show for geographical or other reasons,” said 20-year Warren Miller filmmaking veteran and producer Josh Haskins. “And of course we’re excited to provide the event atmosphere virtually to our dedicated longtime fans. They will just need to be their own bartenders during the show.”

Join this collective experience as the legacy continues. Go to warrenmller.com to learn more.

Jonny Moseley’s tips for watching

Long time host and beloved narrator Jonny Moseley will play emcee the night of the show. Don’t miss all the bonus content in the hour-long lead-up as he interviews the athletes from the film and goes behind the scenes of the making of  “Future Retro.”

Assemble your ultimate ski crew with appropriate social distancing measures. Up to four people are included in your ticket purchase.

Become your own bartender and stock up on your favorite chairlift snacks (insert shot-ski here).

Get ready for the ultimate red-carpet experience. Retro outfits are encouraged!

Cheers to the event start and get ready to kick off winter.

Start planning those ski adventures, ‘cause you’re going to be stoked!

The post Killington featured in latest Warren Miller film ‘Future Retro’ first appeared on Brooke Geery.

Originally published in the Mountain Times- Oct. 28, 2020

One of the most notable programs to came out of the federal CARES act in Vermont is Everyone Eats. Using $5 million in coronavirus relief dollars, the Southeastern Vermont Community Action Agency launched hubs across the state where those experiencing food insecurity could pick up restaurant-prepared meals a few times per week.

In Rutland, the giveaways are held Mondays, Wednesdays and Thursdays at the Farmers’ Food Center in Rutland. Organizer Harry DiPrinzio takes great pride in not just the amount, but the quality food they have been able to provide to the community. In addition to being prepared by professional chefs, the program requires restaurants to source 10% of their food locally to support Vermont farms and agriculture.

“It’s a pretty unique program in that the food is pretty great. I don’t think there’s another food relief program of this kind in the country that you can get food like this. I’m proud of the fact that we’re providing quality meals that people are able to access on a regular basis,” he said.

The program has grown quickly since its start in August. They’d initially planned to give away 1,500 meals a week, staring with 800 the first week.

“Very quickly we realized we could distribute many more. We are distributing 2,900 meals this week,” DiPrinzio said.

In addition to meals given away at the Vermont Farmers’ Food Center, there are five additional distribution sites in Rutland County, thanks to folks in each town who have taken on the responsibility.

For the restaurants involved, the benefit is two fold.

“We thought it would really help,” Little Haveli owner Rena Harchind said. “It was good for us to be able to help them and it’s really good for us to get the marketing. People will come try out more of our food, so both ways it’s been good. Our community helps us a lot so we wanted to help them too.”

In addition to Little Haveli, meals in Rutland come from Ana’s Empanadas, Roots, The Rollin’ Rooster, Taso on Center, Bueno Burrito and Mama Tamara Cucina Italiana. Though Diprinzio said he hasn’t specifically heard from any restaurants about growth in their business due to the program, he did point out Rollin’ Rooster and Mama Tamara are both in the process of opening brick and mortar locations.

Food distribution begins at 4 p.m., and those who rely on it know to get there early.

“Pace does vary but we’ve seen more folks as the word has gotten out further,” DiPrinzio said. “There is still quite a rush at 4 p.m. We have run out sometimes, but we try very hard to match the anticipated demand and have meals for everyone who wants them.”

In Rutland, Everyone Eats has distributed over 16,000 meals as of Oct. 26, and expects to distribute over 21,000 more before the end of the program on Dec. 11.

Unfortunately, future funding for the program rests firmly on the shoulders of bureaucrats.

“We would absolutely love to be able to continue operating the program,” he said. “We’ve received so much positive feedback from folks picking up meals and restaurants alike. It’s just totally dependent on budget. The state would have to approve more funding.”

In the meantime, DiPrinzio and other volunteers will continue to provide as many meals as possible, including on Election Day.

“We’re planning on serving some food at polling sites in Rutland on election day,” he said. “We will have meals available at each of the four main polling sites in Rutland until we run out.”

The post Everyone Eats continues to feed Rutland first appeared on Brooke Geery.