When I decided to ski full time, I sought advice from two mentors in the ski industry.

One said go west for the powder, the other said go east for the culture.

Since I was young and in shape, I went for skiing in the west. Record snow fall that season satisfied me, but I was curious what a culture infused ski resorts were like back east.

There is Mont Tremblant near Montreal, but as Justin Trudeau said recently, people like me are just too “lazy” to learn French.

Off to New Hampshire south of Quebec, a seemingly secret snow sports getaway with a charming culture. People discuss politics, football and their passion for skiing and the great outdoors.

New Hampshire has everything one could want in snow sports; skiing, snowmobiling, ice climbing, snowshoeing and ecology classes.

I took part in everything, except ice climbing.

My room was the first thing that excited me at the Woodstock Inn, Station and Brewery, in White Mountain National Forest.

The second was Ben the bartender, who gave me my room key with a well deserved micro brewed beer after driving up from Boston.

The cozy Swiftwater room was complete with a jet tub. An aspen log bed was covered with country style quilt and many pillows. In the sitting room was a stone gas fireplace. Very romantic, but I was flying solo and relished in the serenity.

Breakfast is included at the Woodstock Inn, with your choice of eggs Benedict, pancakes, french toast, and a wonderful sticky bun fresh out of the oven. Mouth watering fuel for skiing.

Loon Mountain is just a few minutes away in Lincoln, Cannon Mountain is up the I-93 about 20 minutes in the Franconia Notch State Park.

I headed out to Cannon, a legend among locals. Steep cruising trails with gripping snow and a quick ride up the tram kept me captivated.

Most impressive was the secluded beginner area. Off the first chair is a gentle slope, where you can learn your turns without the worry of skiers or boarders flying past you. The second chair led to more challenging slopes.

After skiing at Cannon all day and getting acquainted with friendly people, it was time to sample beer back at the Woodstock Inn.

Patrons were huddled around the bar playing a trivia game, I found a seat across from Ben the Bartender, and next to Bob, an enchanting fellow from Boston, who was raving about skiing Loon all day. To the other side of Bob was Jean, a local who was kicking everyone’s butt at trivia.

We ate a very scrumptious meal at the bar and chatted about football, Obama and Clinton. The night climaxed with rounds of karaoke — Sublime, Meat Loaf and even a little rap.

I decided I could live in this old logging town, but it was time to venture out to Jackson, with a stop at Alpine Adventures, in Lincoln, for snowmobiling.

Because of the moist snowstorm, I had the guide Jesse all to myself. We zoomed around winding trails for three hours. By the end of the journey. I could man-oeuvre the snowmobile and was ready to go faster. If you don’t have a suit and boots, Alpine Adventures will provide you with the necessities.

In the heart of cottage country, is the road to Jackson and famous red-covered Jackson Bridge.

From the bridge it was up Eagle Mountain House, an historic hotel built in 1879. Aside from the fine dining and beautiful cross-country skiing Eagle Mountain is close to a trio of hills: Wildcate, Black Mountain and Attitash.

Dining was a glutton’s dream. I sampled a few popular dishes. The lobster Mac and Cheese was savoury; the spinach dip melted in my mouth; while the Veal Parmigiana didn’t disappoint.

It was all served piping hot with a perfectly chilled glass of white wine.

Well rested and the sun shining bright, it was now off to tackle Wildcat. I seemed to recapture my youth and eagerly raced up and down the mountain with the vigor of a 12 year old. I skied Lynx Trail, a local favourite, numerous times. It had a perfect fall line to help you find your natural rhythm.

The quad chair takes just six minutes to reach the summit where you can see the Atlantic Ocean on a clear day.

You can also see Tuckerman Ravine, a backcountry skiing paradice. Access though Pinkham Notch, on the Appalachian Trail.

Appalachian Mountain Club Highland Centre at Crawford Notch is a conservation lodge and outdoor education centre. Every detail from the building to the lodge, to the maintained trails, take the environment into serious consideration.

In the dining hall, locally built furniture cuts down on emissions from transport.

I joined five others staying at the lodge for dinner. It was like Sunday dinner at a friend’s house. Food was brought out on platters, and we helped ourselves to salad, polenta, veggies, maple-glazed chicken and a chocolate brownie cheesecake.

There are dozens of tails to entice a cross-country or snowshoeing enthusiast. I took the First Tracks Walk, a snow shoe exploration of critters and plants.

The centre has everything from boots, snowshoes, skis, tents, hiking poles, winter jackets to long johns.

Off to Brenton Woods next for more skiing. You can actually cross-country ski there from the Highland Centre, although I drove.

Brenton Woods, home to world champion skier Bode Miller.

Let the kids explore with the mountain playground with award-winning family programs, while mom and dad take turns skiing and hanging out in the lodge with the transferable lift ticket.

Bretton has all types of terrain and is known for having the most snow in the area. It didn’t disappoint and started snowing heavily in the afternoon.

New Hampshire is the place for adventurous or romantic spirits young and old, echoed by their licence place motto, Live Free or Die.

Originally published in the Calgary Sun on Thursday, February 21, 2008.