The first extreme skiing
The ski school constructed an upward-sloping ramp in front of the Snowshed Lodge observation deck. We blew snow on it to maintain the right amount of surface needed to create a perfect ski jump. Two daredevils, Herman Goellner and Tom LeRoy, figured out that they could get enough speed to hit the jump and perform a backward flip by shooting down the Snowshed slope. This was a first, and it amazed onlookers. Soon, it became a regular attraction: every Saturday and Sunday at 10:00 a.m. and 3:00 p.m., our two skiers would put on quite a show to the delight of the assembled crowd. The following year, they upped the ante by hitting a bump at the end of the ramp, allowing them to do a forward flip. I carefully surveyed the ramps to make sure they could be replicated. To my knowledge this was the first time these acrobatic feats were accomplished. Goellner was later inducted into the US Ski-Board Hall of Fame.
The first gondola
In January 1967, I was sworn to secrecy and handed plans for a gondola that would start on Route 4 and end atop Killington. I was told to take the plans home and hide them. It had to be top secret, I was told because more land would need to be purchased to complete this project. Preston Leete Smith was afraid that if the word got out, the land purchase prices would be upped.
One January afternoon, Smith told me we needed to locate the spot where the gondola’s “Swamp Terminal” would be built, the midway station where the gondola would have to make an angle turn. He said to get some climbing spurs and a pole with a red flag on it. We’d need to locate the spot and place the flag atop a tree to identify it from the top of Killington 1. Since this was a covert operation, we waited until just before the Snowshed lift closed to begin our mission, setting off in the dark. We had downhill skis, a headlamp, and a coast and geodetic map. Smith said we were going to follow the contour to the correct spot. Off we went, making our way through brush and fallen trees until we got to what he thought was the correct spot. Okay, go up the tree. No, how about you going up the tree? Smith prevailed, and I climbed up as far as possible with downhill ski boots and spurs to set the flag. Now, it was time to head back to Snowshed. Smith led the way.
“Pres, I think we’re losing elevation,” I said to Smith.
“No, those are the lights of Snowshed,” Smith responded.
“I don’t think so because they are moving!”
We trudged on. About 7:30 p.m., we arrived on Route 4. This was before cell phones, so the corporation president and his operations engineer hitchhiked back to Killington. When I finally got home, my girlfriend and soon-to-be wife, Lea, asked me where I had been and why I was all scratched up with pine needles on my parka.
“I can’t tell you. It’s a secret,” I answered.
The Committee of 5
Paul Bousquet had been general manager for years, giving his all to Killington. Paul left in the fall of 1967. In his place, a “Committee of 5” was appointed to run Killington and report directly to Smith.
The Committee of 5 consisted of Charlie Hanley, in charge of inside operations; Karl Pfeiffer – ski school; Phil Camp – marketing; Marty Wilson; and me. The plan was for each one of us to act as general manager on a rotating basis. Smith and the chairman of the Sherburne Corporation, Joe Sargeant, called a Saturday afternoon meeting. Sargeant was a successful insurance man from Hartford, Conecticut, who was instrumental in lining up early Killington investors. Smith was in constant communication with Sargeant. I don’t think Smith made an important decision without first consulting with Sargeant. At the meeting, Smith and Sargean ”let the cat out of the bag” that they intended to build a gondola from Route 4 to the top of Killington and wanted to hear from all of us regarding the feasibility of the project.
Wilson stated that it was too risky financially as it would jeopardize Killington’s entire net worth. Hanley said he was already spread too thin and would have difficulty getting the help he would need for any new inside facilities. Camp said he didn’t think we would scoop up skiers off Route 4 and thought the money would be better spent advertising in the Boston and New York areas. Pfeiffer said it was simple: there’s no dependable snow that low in elevation, plus it would substantially increase the size of the ski school, for which he already had difficulty filling needed positions. I stated that it would double the size of the ski patrol, grooming, and lift and maintenance operations. In sum, we all thought it was a bad idea. Smith and Sargeant listened as each of us made our case and concluded the meeting by saying that Killington would go ahead with the project. So much for the Committee of 5!
Time to leave
I had surpassed the time I had allocated for staying at Killington. I found Smith increasingly challenging to work for, and our relationship could only be described as strained. Smith was in charge of the outside operations before I arrived and had difficulty letting it go despite all I had accomplished. I wanted to pursue my chosen civil engineering profession. I left Killington to become the scheduling engineer for the Peach Bottom twin nuclear power plant in Delta, Pennsylvania. It continues to produce the equivalent hydropower of the Grand Coulee Dam – about 21 million megawatt hours of electricity annually.
I was not alone in deciding to leave. One by one, the Committee of 5 headed for the door. Wilson was the only one who stayed on and was instrumental in the eventual sale of Killington.
I have no regrets about my time at Killington. It was a great experience and instilled a “can-do attitude.” I tapped into that spirit as I pursued other fields of interest. Most importantly, I met my wife of 57 years on that mountain. All because George Wesson hired me on the spot for $1.50 per hour! I eventually founded a successful prefabricated solar home business – the first in the country – Green Mountain Homes, based in Royalton. We designed and delivered over 300 prefabricated solar homes throughout the Northeast. I was awarded two U.S. patents for the design and have written a “How-To” book about this successful venture. See Kindle books: “The Passive Solar House,” by James Kachadorian.
Killington remains “The Beast of the East” and continues to evolve, hosting more than 4 million skiers per year. I don’t recognize too many faces when I visit the mountain, nor do they recognize me, but gazing up the slopes brings back vivid memories of those wild years when we moved mountains to literally lay the foundations for the largest ski resort in the East.
This chapter concludes Slippery Slopes, a series written by James Kachadorian about the early days of Killington.
