Ski Success Found Simply at Saskadena Six

Skiing with my six- and nine-year-old at Saskadena Six grounded me in the present, while also reminding me how far we’ve come. Personally, I’ve spent the better part of the last three winters with my kids on the magic carpet. More broadly, I’ve evolved over three decades of skiing. And historically, this very mountain—one of the birthplaces of modern American skiing—has evolved alongside the sport itself.

For those of us of a certain age, you may recall the mountain by its former name, “Suicide Six,” which it carried for more than 80 years. Having finally arrived in an era where mental health is rightly centered—and casual bravado around suicide is no longer acceptable—I celebrate the 2022 renaming to Saskadena Six. As a parent, I am relieved to not have a forced conversation with young children who are simply reading road signs and asking their meaning.

In the Abenaki language, saskadena (sahs-kah-deena) means “standing mountain.” The name was chosen by resort staff with input from the Nulhegan Band of the Coosuk-Abenaki Nation, honoring the original inhabitants of the land. The “Six” traces back to Wallace “Bunny” Bertram, who in 1936 selected “hill number six” on a map of potential sites for a rope-tow-served ski area.

Traveling to Woodstock feels like coming home for skiers. This bucolic corner of Vermont shaped American ski history, with claims to the first rope tow in 1934, built on a pasture hill at Clinton Gilbert’s farm and powered by a Model T Ford engine. Saskadena Six also hosts the longest-running ski race in the country, the annual Fisk Trophy Race, which began in 1937.

Time and Timelessness

Some things evolve, and some stay exactly the same. There will be parking lot meltdowns. There will also be inexplicable glee as you schuss down trails together, year after year.

A family-centered ski hill, Saskadena Six is the kind of mountain where kids are afforded a little more freedom than at major resorts. We visited during youth ski races, and in the lodge I chatted with parents who had what I want: ease. They had shed their helicopter-parent skin. They knew their kids had the skills they needed, they knew the terrain, and they knew that all trails lead back to the lodge.

One mom, cheering on her seventh grader, told me her dad is 81 and still loves skiing with the grandkids. As a first-generation skier, it reminded me that the investment of time now may one day mean three generations skiing together. Amid potty breaks and forgotten gloves today, that long-term view can be hard to imagine!

Yet from our chairlift perch, I watched new ski families finding their rhythm and heard the unmistakable sound of childhood freedom: Kids skiing in packs of two to six, singing, hollering, and hooting together, just as they likely had the weekends and seasons before.

Pace Matters

I’m not in my first-track or last-chair years, and my littles will still need slopeside support for some time. As one ski-racer mom from New Jersey, who drives up pre-dawn every Saturday, reminded me, “My daughter is 12, and I still help her with her boots.”

On the slopes, I’m continually struck by today’s kids’ vocabulary around self-care and emotional regulation. Before we even arrived, my nine-year-old, Tash reflected that he wanted to warm up on a green trail so he could feel confident. My six-year-old, Caledonia, took one pizza-pie-heavy first run and, with no ego or urge to compete with her big brother, asked to head back to the magic carpet. Petite and perceptive, she acknowledged she felt afraid of people skiing behind her and asked me to follow her. “You make me feel safe,” she said.

I welled up—not just with pride, but with gratitude. These are mountain skills that translate beyond skiing: self-awareness, communication, and advocacy. Ski technique aside, my biggest job is to listen and learn. Letting them set the pace now puts us on a better track for the future.

A few magic-carpet laps later, her confidence returned. Pizza turned into veggie sticks, and she was taking solo laps. We rejoined Tash, who had found his favorite terrain—mogul-mashed potatoes—on a blue trail.

When it was time to go, Tash lingered outside the lodge, watching the quad a little longingly. I told him he could click out of his boots. He paused and after a long second, replied, “I just like the feeling of skis under my feet.”

 

Mountain Mamas, Reunite

While packing up the truck, I heard a woman call out from across the parking lot. It was Wendy, a dear friend I hadn’t seen in more than a dozen years. We had both moved, both had kids, and both happened to be at Saskadena Six that day. We hugged and celebrated our milestones. It was her five-year-old’s first day snowboarding!

I marveled at how, across distance and decades, women of winter continue to reconnect—bound by a shared love of the sport and common ground forged by those who came before us.

Where to Stay: In the heart of town, The Woodstock Inn and Resort is a lovely and convenient base camp for skiing Saskadena Six. Just eight minutes door to door, you won’t even have time for the kids to ask, “Are we there yet?” See Mindful Mama Jen’s story on staying at the inn, Nordic skiing, and savoring its many amenities for families and self-care–savvy weekenders.