Author: Kelly Janis
Temperatures hovered around the freezing mark, snow flurries trickled down in earnest and hundreds of spectators gazed on expectantly as 85 thrill-seeking skiers and snowboarders attired as pirates, tigers, sunflowers and superheroes attempted to skid their way across 100 feet of muddy, frigid water laden with chunks of ice and the wayward skis and numbered bibs of fellow contestants at Killington Ski Resort's Annual Pond Skimming Competition, held April 13 in Killington, Vt.
Equal shares of speed and gusto were crucial in garnering such accolades as "Best Skim," "Best Splash" and "Best Costume" in this popular rite of spring, held around a manmade pond outside of the K-1 Lodge and featuring participants of all ages from throughout the Northeast.
The event's top hat-clad emcee kicked off the festivities by enumerating the competition's two cardinal rules (no ski poles in the water and no nudity), explaining the protocol for being extricated from the shallow water ("swim to the head of the pond - not to the sides") and discussing the less ethically scrupulous means of gaining an advantage.
"In bribing the judges, unfortunately, we are unable to take credit cards," he said. "It will be cash transactions only. We will take checks with two forms of ID."
In the absence of the spoils of bribery, successfully executing the "skim" proved a matter of both skill and fortune.
"It depends on how they hit the water - if they hit the jump, or twist their ski a little bit," said a Killington Resort ski "ambassador" who insisted on being referred to solely by his decades-old nickname, Grizzly.
While several diehard skimmers return year after year, many others are more than content with a single attempt.
"Usually, after one or two times, they're done," Grizzly said, noting that, on average, an estimated 30 percent of competitors make it to the other side of the pond without having to be reeled ashore with life preservers and buoys. "It's a real shocker when you fall into that water. You're hoping you make it across, because it's cold in there."
Given the potentially chilly consequences of the endeavor, contestants must conjure steely motivation to hit the slopes.
"I can sum it up in one statement," said Gary Wellington, a college-aged snowboarder donning a short-sleeve tie-dyed vest with a matching bandana and a chunky peace sign necklace. "The bar scene. We had a couple of beers before we came out here."
The first-time pond skimmer's strategy (which, unfortunately for Wellington, ultimately failed)?
"Don't get wet," he said.
In case alcohol was insufficient, the large and enthusiastic crowd offered its own breed of support. Onlookers shouted "You go, girl!" to the six-year-old skier in a pink polka-dotted coat who was swiftly yanked out of the water and wrapped in a towel, applauded the five-year veteran of the competition who responded to the announcer's taunts about the "year of shame and turmoil" which awaits him should he fail to successfully execute the skim by coasting calmly across the entirety of the pond, and laughing at the twins who simultaneously abandoned their snowboards, sprinted down the remainder of the hill and leaped in the water.
Meanwhile, those who congregated at the edge of the pond were equally inclined to issue collective sighs and murmurs of "this doesn't look good" and "he's going for a swim" in response to such announcements as "it is the next contestant's second day ever on a snowboard" - a detail which prompted lifeguards to squat down on the banks of the pond and ready their ropes before the individual in question so much as began his zig-zagging descent down the hill.
Many participants - from the less-than-steady Batman impersonator to the middle-aged man in a suit coat who lost his plastic cigar along with his left ski - managed to compensate for their lack of skimming ability with sheer force of personality.
"It's a lot of fun," Grizzly said. "It's a great, great event."
Pond skimming Killington makes a splash at annual contest
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