I started skiing loon when I was 12 years old. We road the old orange gondola, were served coco by Sherman Adams as we waited in line for the (then much slower) lifts. I recall sharing the secret message over the fireplace with a first time visitor to Loon, we were cool and had the mountain to ourselves as our playground every weekend. Every so often we would hear stories of the Puffin who lived on the Mountain, the stories came over the old load speaker system. It was rumored that this mythical creature was the cause of many a Childs’ fall when skiing. We knew it wasn’t our lack of ability or leg strength that had caused us to loose our balance in those early days of skiing.

A group of us had a place we would meet in the woods off upper flying fox (behind what I remember as a huge boulder), where we could get out of site from the trails and play hide and go seek in the trees. My favorite trail back then was Seven Brothers, it had the big drop offs that would allow you to get air (and we jumped every place we could take some air). Back in the early 70’s you had the Bear Trap lounge just up the hill from the Octagon base lodge (now the site of the Mountain Club), and you had your choice of a few hotels with restaurants in North Lincoln (Beacon, Woodward’s & the Indian Head) or you could travel over to North Conway for Dinner which is what my family did frequently. As I got a little older we all met at the Barn (later known as the Loon Saloon) back in the late 70’s when the drinking age was 18 and the young ski instructors would bring the party to their house when the barn closed (man those were the days). We had great times growing up at Loon, it became a big part of my decision to attend Plymouth State College (now a University) just half an hour south of my Families Condo at the village of Loon.

Now a new Loon has emerged: But as I meet the kids in the racing program and see them zipping down the slopes (and through the woods) I realize things have stayed the same only a different generation has taken over where I left off. Our parents let us go in the morning to seek out our friends, they never seemed to worry what we were doing unless we missed the last shuttle home. I remember looking out the back window of the Ford Country Squire station wagon as we left Lincoln on Sunday afternoon to return home to Sudbury Mass. The snow banks looked huge to me back then but maybe it really is all the same as it was when we were just little kids.

Share your memories of skiing at Loon and as a child growing up in New Hampshire.

Steve Loynd, Managing Broker
Alpine Lakes - Lincoln, NH.