These hand-cut trails were often hidden out of necessity. More than a few people could ski out zones in a matter of minutes, with a single ski track entering thick woods enough to alert the lift-ticketed masses. As Jeff began to carve his own terrain in the early 2000s, he also inherited an oath of secrecy. He returned to Black in 2008, building trails with false entrances that led to brambly dead-ends, and often doubling back on his tracks to throw followers off his scent. Every time he entered the woods, he knew the stakes were high. “Once a stash is blown up,” he explains, “it’s never the same.” Yet standing in front of Carter on that August afternoon in 2010, chainsaw in hand, Jeff saw the future in a change of heart. “We had to go against the grain,” he says. With Carter and Black’s approval, Jeff could continue creating trails back at his home mountain, but they couldn’t just be for him any-more. “We had to make the woods accessible,” he explains. “I didn’t want to give up our fishing holes, but we wanted people to come [to Black] in order to keep the business going.” LEFT, CLOCKWISE FROM LEFT An inside joke among the glade cutting Angry Beavers turned into this “inspirational” poster featuring Gerry Marcoux and his dog Peanut, which still hangs proudly in the Black Mountain Base Lodge. Michael Hogan, an original Angry Beaver, still takes to the woods every summer to help clear the way for his winter descents. Once the snow starts flying, Jeff Marcoux trades in his brush saw for a pair of skis, complete with plenty of BMOM stickers. ABOVE, CLOCKWISE FROM LEFT The entrance to the East Bowl Glades, a playground of shots sitting skier’s left of the area’s summit triple chair. Nobody does vanity plates like Maine—not even Black Mountain’s park-ing lot is safe. In nearby Rumford, the local paper mill also deals with plenty of fallen trees, just on a much larger scale. Ray Broomhall, a long-time Rumford resident, poses for a portrait with his first pair of skis, which are now on display upstairs in the Last Run Pub. Gladecutters 047