Linda Brewster's father Cyrus Gray ran the rope tow at this small area in Ashland. Here are her details:
Our father Cyrus Gray ran the tow for many years, our house sat at the base of the hill and we would ski over to the tow once we could see the wheels turning and the rope moving with our binoculars. It was such a great way to spend the weekends with our friends. It is so sad when I go visit my parents and see the hill overgrown with trees and know that the kids and some adults will never know the fun they are missing out on. Its nice to know that you are preserving the memory of the old "ski tow".
And Patty Stewart's aunt and uncle owned the area. Here's a great first hand account:
I grew up
in the geographical center of New Hampshire, in the small town of Ashland.
In the winters of my childhood my sister and myself, and several other
kids from town, would hike up Highland Street with our skis and poles slung over
our shoulders. At the top of
Highland Street my Aunt and Uncle owned the Glidden’s Ski Tow.
Glidden’s was a huge hill with a magnificent jump to the left and a
more gradual slope to the right for those of us (like myself) who were too
intimidated to jump fifty feet into mid-air.
My sister was the jumper in our family and she could ride the ski tow
like a pro. The ski tow was a
thick, royal blue rope that ran from the top to the bottom of the hill, wrapped
around a pulley at each end, getting it’s power from electricity and some
rubber belt contraption, it went fast and furious.
In my younger years I would walk back up the slope as I feared the
tumultuous tow would rope me in and forever pull me around in circles or that I
would fall and ,to my great embarrassment, they would have to shut off the tow.
Sometimes my big brother, Harvey, would let me ride between his legs as
he held me under my arms while holding onto the tow with only his elbow, I
thought him so brave for being able to maneuver such a stunt.
Eventually, I learned to use the tow myself and came to appreciate its
ability to whisk me back up the hill in a jiffy.
ski until we were too cold, tired or it got too dark.
After skiing, everyone that could fit would go into the small red ski hut
at the top of the hill and sit around the pot bellied wood stove drinking hot
chocolate. I remember it clearly,
everyone had rosy red cheeks, runny noses, and static filled hair.
The smell of wet mittens hung in the air.
On the outside of the ski hut hung a sign that read “SKI AT YOUR OWN
RISK”, “KEEP SCARFS CLEAR OF ROPE”. At
dusk my sister and I would walk home, exhausted but feeling good about our day.
The ski tow
hasn’t run for years, my uncle eventually shut it down for insurance reasons.
My kids and I now slide at the grand hill and I tell them stories of
it’s operating years. I’m not sure, but I think the old blue rope is still coiled
up in the ski hut, where I am sure my sister and I left a mitten or two……..
Several other NELSAP readers remember this ski area:
"There was a ski area-rope tow- in Ashland, NH, run by the Glidden family and was up on Highland Avenue. This was privately run but open to all townspeople. I am not sure the years but I know it was there in the 50's, 60's as I skied there."
Zock: or face - the result of falling on the way up and getting caught under the
heavy, speeding rope. Skiing was
much better then, nobody complained."
"I grew up next door to Glidden's Ski Tow in Ashland, NH. It was owned and
or face - the result of falling on the way up and getting caught under the heavy, speeding rope. Skiing was much better then, nobody complained."
Does anyone else remember this area? If so, let us know!
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