With better runs than Broadway and more high-fliers than Wall Street, Upstate New York is an undiscovered ski gem, says Pete Thompson

Hurtling down Broadway at a rate of knots, there’s not a soul in sight as I marvel at the New York skyline. It’s rush hour, but there are no swarms of yellow taxis or sidewalks packed full of theatre-goers, and the only rush I’m experiencing is a surge of adrenaline as I pick up the pace.

Not for a minute had I envisaged combining the buzz of New York with peace and tranquillity, but I’m revelling in the best of both worlds.

I glance over my shoulder to check for traffic, and a figure flies through the air and lands in front of me like a bolt from the blue.

Fortunately, he isn’t the victim of a major accident. He’s a freestyle skier who’s just performed a double back flip and taken centre stage, as I play a supporting role careering down the pulsating Broadway black run at Whiteface resort.

I’m on a road trip skiing in Upstate New York, where I discover there’s no shortage of drama on my tour of six ski resorts.

I had never associated New York with skiing, but I find myself tearing down a bobsleigh track, taking on the run used for the downhill in the 1980 Olympics.

The temperature has plummeted to -20 centigrade, but I brave the cold and pause to take in magnificent panoramic views of the Adirondack Mountains, and catch sight of the sun reflecting off Lake Placid.

At 3,430 feet, Whiteface has the biggest vertical drop in the east of the United States and a variety of runs for skiers of all abilities.

Much is made of the importance of leaving a lasting legacy after hosting an Olympics, and you only have to stroll down the main street to see the influence the 1980 Games has had on Lake Placid.

Speed skaters glide elegantly around the ice rink outside the impressive Olympic Center, which is packed with children ice hockey training.

I head back to Whiteface Lodge – a luxury resort nestled in the woodlands, which is a haven for relaxation.

Resisting the temptation to stay put in my plush three-bedroom suite, I’m rewarded with a succulent, locally-sourced steak, followed by whiskey tasting, in the Lodge’s KANU restaurant, and cannot help but be impressed by the professional, friendly service.

Lake Placid and Whiteface serve up a treat on the final leg of a road trip that has already whet my appetite for another visit to what is unchartered territory for so many skiers and snowboarders.

Located in the western Catskill region and just under a three-hour drive from New York City, Plattekill Mountain has 38 trails and is very much a family resort.

I mark the start of my whistle-stop tour with a cocktail prior to dinner at the Catamount Restaurant in the grounds of the Emerson Resort.

The following morning, I have a close shave on Mohawk Top, a black diamond run at Belleayre Ski Center. But I face the challenge head on.

Just a short drive from Plattekill, Belleayre is another resort that’s great for families, and I can see why German tourists apparently liken the scenery to the Black Forest.

It’s then on to Hunter Mountain, another hidden gem with a single diamond run, christened Hellgate.

After a welcome two-night stop at the Kaatskill Mountain Club, a convenient short stroll from Hunter, I’m in for another pleasant surprise at Windham Mountain.

I take in a pleasant blue run through the trees and discover why it was named Windfall, as I pass expensive houses largely owned by wealthy city workers.

The following morning, the Gore Mountains provides spectacular scenery not too dissimilar to The Alps and a great variety of terrain. There are no queues for the ski lifts and I count a handful of skiers on several runs – a combination I had experienced all week.

At the cosy Alpine Lodge in the quaint hamlet of North Creek, I peer out of my window at the icy Hudson River, before heading for more culinary delights at the atmospheric Trappers Tavern in the Copperfield Inn.

Three days later, I look down on the Hudson, the Statue of Liberty, Ground Zero and other iconic New York City landmarks in a trance, during a sightseeing helicopter ride of the Big Apple. My pulse is racing again as I’m mesmerised by one of my favourite cities in the world.