There are ski trips, and then there are trips that begin with strapping nearly 75 pounds of food, gear, and questionable luxury items to a pulk sled before dragging miles into the Maine wilderness. Our March trip into Baxter State Park was firmly in the second category.

The plan was to spend five days based around Roaring Brook and Chimney Pond, exploring some of the most dramatic ski terrain in the Northeast. Baxter in winter requires far more planning and self-sufficiency than a normal day in the mountains. There are no quick trips back to the car, no lodge lunches, and no easy gear replacements. Once you leave the winter parking area, you are committed to transporting everything you need into the park and then getting it all back out again.

That remoteness is also what makes the experience so special.

For several days, Chimney Pond became our home beneath the walls of Katahdin. We climbed historic ski lines, crossed alpine ridges, skied into North Basin, stood above an incredible undercast on the summit, and eventually raced an incoming storm out of the park after an already full day in the mountains.

It was physically exhausting, logistically complicated, occasionally uncomfortable, and easily one of the best ski trips we have ever taken.

Planning a Winter Ski Trip into Baxter

A winter trip into Baxter State Park is not something to organize casually. The skiing may be the exciting part, but the success of the trip depends heavily on planning, communication, weather awareness, and the ability to remain self-sufficient for several days.

Our itinerary involved spending the first night at the Roaring Brook bunkhouse before moving farther into the park to Chimney Pond, where we planned to establish a base for the remainder of the trip. This broke the approach into two sections:

• Approximately 13 miles and 1,000 vertical feet from the winter parking area to Roaring Brook
• Another 3.5 miles and roughly 1,400 vertical feet from Roaring Brook to Chimney Pond

Reservations and winter access arrangements should be handled well in advance. Baxter has its own procedures, rules, and winter travel requirements, so trip leaders should communicate directly with the park and review the latest regulations before committing to an itinerary.

Gear and Pulk Sleds

The pulk sleds were essential. Carrying five days of winter camping and ski equipment entirely on our backs would have been far less practical, although there were certainly moments when dragging a sled uphill did not feel particularly practical either.

My sled weighed approximately 65 pounds at the beginning of the trip. That included food, sleeping gear, extra clothing, repair supplies, cooking equipment, and many luxuries.

A Baxter ski trip requires the normal backcountry touring setup, but it also demands a much broader equipment list. Our gear included:

• Touring skis, skins, boots, poles, and ski crampons
• Avalanche beacon, shovel, and probe
• Helmet and appropriate technical climbing equipment
• Crampons and ice tools for steeper objectives
• Multiple insulating layers and dry backup clothing
• A warm sleeping bag and sleeping system
• Headlamps with spare batteries
• Stove, cookware, and several days of food
• Water filtration and treatment equipment
• Navigation tools and offline maps
• First-aid and emergency supplies
• Ski, skin, binding, and pulk repair equipment
• Communication devices and battery backups

Routes Skied

Our objectives changed with weather, visibility, snow conditions, and group energy, but the primary routes and areas we explored included:

• The Saddle — served both as an approach route and our first ski descent. Its history and position above Chimney Pond made it a fitting introduction to the mountain.
• Taber Gully — a long and exposed North Basin line with incredible views and a true remote, alpine character. Reaching it required climbing from the Chimney Pond side, crossing the ridge, and committing to the return climb.
• Taber Left Variation — after skiing the main line, we climbed back for a second descent through the neighboring variation. It gave us another sustained North Basin run and a different perspective on the terrain.
• Hamlin Gullies — provided our route back toward Chimney Pond after skiing in North Basin. Separate members of the group selected different gullies, both eventually involving some bushwhacking near the bottom.
• Summit to Y Couloir — the upper summit skiing was thin, firm, and rocky, requiring cautious movement. Y Couloir offered much better snow and some of the best turns of the trip.

The Long Road to Roaring Brook

Our first day began with the organized chaos of unloading vehicles, assembling pulk sleds, and trying to determine whether every item we had packed was truly necessary.

Once everything was secured, we began the approximately 13-mile skin into the park. The route gained around 1,000 feet and served as a long introduction to the pace of travel with heavily loaded sleds.

The first few miles felt relatively smooth. Everyone was excited, the sleds were moving well, and the reality of the remaining distance had not fully set in. As the day continued, the effort became more noticeable. Small hills required deliberate work, turns took more coordination, and stopping a loaded sled from running into the back of your skis became a skill of its own.

Fortunately, there was no shortage of trail banter. Snacks, water breaks, and the more than occasional wine bong helped divide the approach into manageable pieces.

Eventually, the Roaring Brook bunkhouse came into view. After a long day of pulling sleds, seeing the cabin felt like arriving at a luxury resort. We unloaded our gear, started the woodstove, and transformed the cold bunkhouse into a warm home for the night.

Dinner that night was considerably better than standard backcountry food. Joe Santo had hauled in steak tips, a decision that benefited the entire group and conveniently reduced his sled weight before the climb to Chimney Pond.

Climbing to Chimney Pond and Skiing the Saddle

The next morning, we packed the sleds again and prepared for the climb to Chimney Pond. This portion was a short 3.5 mile skin gaining roughly 1,400 vertical feet before arriving at Chimney.

As we approached Chimney Pond, we skinned across the frozen pond and received our first complete view of the terrain surrounding the basin. The walls of Katahdin rose abruptly above us. From below, the gullies and couloirs looked steeper, larger, and more serious than they appeared on a map. The view immediately shifted our attention from the approach to the skiing we hoped to accomplish during the week.

We reached the Chimney Pond bunkhouse, unloaded the sleds, claimed our bunks, and began organizing the cabin. The bunkhouse is simple and self-service. It contains sleeping bunks, a communal table, and a wood-burning stove. There is no running water, restaurant, or drying room.

After unpacking, we made another trip to collect water. Anyone planning to stay at Chimney Pond should arrive prepared to filter water or melt snow. Depending on the conditions and accessibility of flowing water, the process can take a meaningful amount of time each morning and evening.

With bottles filled and a handful of gummy bears consumed, we prepared for our first ski objective. After two days of hauling supplies, climbing with only normal ski equipment felt suspiciously easy. Fresh legs may be overstating it, but we felt like entirely different people.

We climbed toward the Saddle and skied a variation of the historic line. The Saddle holds a special place in Katahdin skiing history and is often associated with some of the mountain's earliest recorded ski descents. It felt like an appropriate way to begin the trip.

The descent gave us our first real taste of Katahdin's terrain. We had finally transitioned from hauling gear to skiing, and the significance of where we were began to sink in. By the time we returned to the bunkhouse, the miles and vertical gain of the first two days were catching up with us. We ate dinner, made another water run, and settled in around the table. That evening also marked the beginning of Joe and Matt's week-long cribbage battle.

Taber Gully, North Basin, and the Hamlin Gullies

Day three was our largest ski day. We began by skinning and climbing the Saddle Trail before traversing toward the base of the Hamlin gullies. From there, we climbed to the ridge and crossed toward North Basin.

Moving across the upper mountain gave us a new perspective on Katahdin. The terrain is complex, and traveling between basins can require a combination of skinning, booting, traversing, and carefully managing transitions. Distance on the map does not always reflect the time or effort required.

Our first objective was Taber Gully. Taber is a long, exposed line dropping into North Basin with expansive views across some of Baxter's wildest terrain. Standing at the top, the basin felt enormous. The remoteness was impossible to ignore. There were no lifts, groomed trails, or easy exits — only the line below us and the ridge we would eventually need to regain.

The descent was incredible. Taber offered sustained skiing with views extending across North Basin and the surrounding ridgelines.

From the bottom, we set our eyes on the left variation of Taber and collectively decided we were going to ski it. We transitioned and began climbing again. The second ascent gave us time to study the line and appreciate the scale of the basin. We reached the top and descended the left variation for another memorable run.

After the second lap, we climbed to the ridge one final time. Our legs were beginning to protest, but we still needed to cross back toward Hamlin before descending to Chimney Pond. At the top of Hamlin, the group split between two different gullies. Joe and Justin moved skier's left, while Matt and Alex selected another gully farther to the right.

The gullies provided an exciting final descent and allowed us to ski much of the way back toward camp. "Much of the way" is important wording. The final portion involved some creative bushwhacking, route finding, and acceptance that not every ski descent ends with a clean glide directly to the cabin door.

That evening, we recapped the day around the table. We had crossed the ridge, skied two variations of Taber, climbed back to Hamlin, and descended separate gullies toward Chimney Pond. It was the kind of day that feels much longer when retold than it does while you are moving through it.

Summit Push, an Undercast, and Y Couloir

Day four began with blue skies and relatively warm temperatures in the 20s. After evaluating the conditions, we decided to attempt a summit push. We started climbing through the Saddle, initially enjoying good visibility. As we gained elevation, clouds moved across the mountain and the terrain quickly became socked in.

Visibility deteriorated until the world around us was reduced to snow, cloud, and the members of our group.

Reaching the ridge forced a decision. Continuing toward the summit in limited visibility would require careful navigation and a willingness to turn around if conditions worsened. We discussed the options as a group, evaluated our position, and decided to continue. That decision gave us one of the most memorable moments of the trip.

As we neared the summit, the cloud layer began to thin. We slowly climbed out of the gray and emerged above an incredible undercast. Clouds rolled across the Tablelands and poured into the surrounding basins while the summit remained above them in the sun.

Reaching the summit produced an enormous sense of accomplishment. We looked down toward Great Basin and Chimney Pond, ate some snacks, took photos, and enjoyed the scene for as long as the conditions allowed. Eventually, we prepared for the descent.

We were able to ski from near the summit toward Y Couloir, but the upper mountain was fast, thin, and sharky. Rocks sat just beneath the snow surface, and the skiing required extreme caution. It was neither the best snow of the trip nor a section we would recommend forcing simply for the sake of claiming a summit descent.

Once we entered Y Couloir, however, the skiing improved dramatically. Y Couloir provided some of the best turns of the entire trip. After the exposed and careful skiing above, linking quality turns through the couloir was a treat.

We descended toward Chimney Pond and returned to the bunkhouse after what already felt like a complete day. Then we spoke with Ranger Jen. A storm was approaching, with freezing rain and unpleasant conditions forecast to arrive later that night. Our original plan had been to sleep at Chimney Pond and complete the long trip back to the vehicles the following morning. The forecast made that plan considerably less appealing.

Traveling more than 16 miles with loaded sleds is hard enough. Doing it in freezing rain, on a deteriorating trail surface, while wet and tired would add unnecessary risk. We discussed the situation and decided to leave the park that afternoon. After climbing to the summit and skiing Y Couloir, we stepped away from Chimney Pond at approximately 3:00 p.m.

We knew we were in for a long finish.