It all began, that is my lodging business – Ulla Lodge at Mad River – in the 1940’s, a time when I was so optimistic about the approaching ski season, I was visualizing crowds of eager skiers phoning the lodge day and night for reservations, carloads of young and old knocking on the door, wanting reservations, constituting an overflow of guests that left an army snoring on mattresses on the kitchen, living room, and dining room floor. But I’ve always been an optimist, a non-business man, as it were, or I never would have remodeled two farmhouses and a barn and sat in wait for snow and skiers. Every time I recall that horrendous job of tearing down and building up, I feel a choking sensation in my throat. Believe me, never again.
Finally, however, in spite of all the harrowing work, all was in readiness. The lodge immaculate, the beds made, the bar well stocked, the reservations sheet empty and no snow on the mountain. Snow was simply a little tardy in coming, I kept telling myself. Christmas came, and Christmas went with no snow. I was experiencing the snow drought of the 1940’s when there must have been an annual El Niño, an as yet undiscovered weather effect. Not a single call for reservations.
I was sitting despondently reading a ski magazine in the empty living room, consoling myself with a deep powder story set somewhere in the west where there is always snow when I heard the knock on the door. Hurriedly extracting myself from the chair, I opened the door. There stood a man with a suitcase. Great heavens, I thought, my first guest. “Come in, Come in!” I shouted heartily and not letting the man say a word, I had him sign the register and take a complete tour of the buildings, assigned him a bed and refused to hear his protestations. You don’t let a live one go.
We returned to the living room where the fire burned brightly on the andirons. Now I have him, I thought. I offered him a drink on the house and finally broke the bad skiing news to him, but it didn’t faze him, which I thought a bit odd. Then he spoke and, to this day, I can still hear him say, “Sir? I’m your Fuller Brush man. Could I show you my wares? They’re in my suitcase in your men’s dormitory.”
— H. Sewall Williams
Sewall Williams’ recollection of his first winter at Mad River Glen was originally published in the December 1998 edition of Skiing Heritage, the publication of the International Skiing History Association.
The Ulla Lodge is currently known as the Hyde Away Inn. Located just down the road from the mountain, it remains a favorite inn, restaurant and watering hole for Mad River Glen skiers and staff.
