Poutine, Powder, and Petrol

Those were the first words out of Chris’ mouth as we stepped into a windowless basement in Casino, BC, a tiny town just outside our first stop in British Columbia, Canada. Let’s see. A sink but no kitchen, an oddly tiny shower, and just enough room to pile our boots in the corner. We’ve got a queen bed for two, a floor for one, a couch for another, and a 3-foot-long pullout we aptly named “the shoebox” for the last. On a trip like this, you learn to get close in more ways than one.

But we knew what we were getting ourselves into months earlier when we planned this trip. The five of us are roommates, ski buddies, and long-time friends (We mean first day of college long-time friends). In our first year at CC we decided to purchase the Epic Pass, and we’ve since hopped over to the Ikon Pass. For us, the passes make sense: we can ski Colorado and beyond at an affordable price.

But what really happens when a ski hill partners with a big ski pass? On the front range, we’ve seen the crowded slopes and general homogenization of certain ski areas first-hand. Talk of a loss of ski culture and doomsday warnings plasters social media. But we wanted to know what skiers thought. We wanted to listen to the ski bums of fiercely independent resorts and from the resorts dipping their toes into the world of the pass conglomerates.

I can still see the lightbulb burning above Henry’s head clear as day. Why not do it ourselves?

So, that’s exactly what we did – the five of us packed our recorders, checked our microphones, threw on our jackets (Peyton missed this step), and balanced our widest skis atop two cars, and with the fortune of a Venture Grant (Thank you Keller Family) we mobbed 20 hours north to the study site of our dreams: Interior British Columbia, Canada.

Vail Resorts launched the Epic Pass in 2008. Alterra Mountain Company released the Ikon Pass in 2018. Ever since, mountain towns have been riding a wave of mass corporate incursion into ski management. Vail Resorts operates 37 ski resorts across the world. Alterra operates 15 and partners with another 32. The result? Season passes are priced lower than they have ever been before. For the 2023-2024 season, a full adult Epic Season Pass runs for $909 while an Ikon Season Pass retails at $1159, however discounted passes exist for students at levels as low as $459. That’s a far cry from the days of the $2000 season pass for a singular ski area, and a deal in the eyes of many including ourselves. With an Epic Pass, skiers are afforded Vail Colorado’s legendary back bowls, Kirkwood California’s spine tingling steeps, and Canada’s crown jewel, Whistler Blackcomb. On the Ikon side, passholders gain access to Aspen Colorado’s immense four-mountain diversity, powder meccas Alta and Snowbird, and the one and only Jackson Hole. 

As consumers, we get to travel and ski all over the world under a single pass. We’re bringing business to these small mountain towns. We’re harnessing our inner sense of adventure. What’s not to love about this arrangement?

But the mass movement of corporate ownership has also created its fair share of issues, and backlash from locals and mountain employees today feels almost ever present. Last season, ski patrollers at Park City made headlines all across the western United States after they unionized against Vail Resorts in a push for improved wages and working conditions. At Stevens Pass in Washington, over 44,000 individuals signed a petition urging Vail Resorts to refund their season pass following severe staffing shortages and limited terrain openings to start the season, despite abundant snowfall. Big Boulder Ski Area in Pennsylvania has long prided itself on its early opening dates. Since being acquired by Vail Resorts in 2019 however, that part of their culture has disappeared. Day ticket prices have reached $269 at places like Steamboat Ski Area, pricing many out of the skiing experience. It’s fair to say the multi mountain pass dream has encountered a few speed bumps. 

As we watched these changes unfold in Colorado, Utah, and all across the North American ski landscape, we started to wonder how small, more remote ski areas might be faring. Immediately, we were drawn to the Powder Highway. 

The powder highway snakes its way through the interior region of British Columbia, playing host to some of the best skiing and riding in North America. The region is famous for deep powder, short lines, and funky towns full of friendly people. According to the official Powder Highway website – yes this is a real thing – there are seven resorts that reside along the true route but our Powder Highway journey took us to only four; RED Mountain Resort, Whitewater Ski Resort, Revelstoke Mountain Resort, and Fernie Alpine Resort. Not only has the Powder Highway been a dream trip of ours since our first year at school, the resorts we chose to visit offered enticing contrasts. Some were die hard independent hills, while others had fully embraced a partnership with the Ikon or Epic Pass. The perfect canvas, if you will…

We said goodbye to the sun as we crossed the border through Idaho, welcoming the persistent fog and clouds that interior BC knows all too well. Our first stop was Rossland, a town with just a few thousand people and home to Western Canada's oldest independent ski hill, Red Mountain Resort. 

Rossland began as a mining town in the 1890s, but quickly turned to skiing, and thus the community-owned Red Mountain Ski Club was born. The old mining and logging roads became ski runs and the ski club eventually gave way to what is now Red Mountain Resort, home to eight lifts, four peaks, and 3,850 acres of terrain. 

During our time at Red we sat down with CEO Howard Katkov, who purchased the resort with a small group in 2004. Through the years, he kept RMR’s independence close to the chest – in 2016, when Vail Resorts purchased nearby Whistler Blackcomb, that same week RMR launched their “Fight the Man. Own the Mountain.” campaign. It allowed your non .01 percenter to own a piece of Red. “We have 820 owners from every state in America, every providence, and I don’t know, like 16 other countries,” said Howard.

As the prominence of large ski passes grew, in 2020 RMR decided to enter a partnership with Alterra. “It became clear to me that it was just too good of a deal for the consumer,” Howard said, “And so for me, the reservation was ‘Am I hypocritical?’ because I kept this expression of independence, but I didn't sell my ski resort. I just joined the passport… We have the capacity to take a lot of skiers. I knew it wasn't going to screw up the ski experience and frankly, I wanted the incremental business.”

Between untouched pow laps (and rain) (and a few rounds), we slowly understood what Howard meant. RMR feels like it's just enough off the beaten path to join the Ikon pass without sacrificing its character, and let’s be frank, it’s soul. 

But ambiguity is ripe when it comes to the long-term effects of joining a conglomerate pass. An anonymous ski patroller ar Red stated their concerns regarding the partnership, “Let's not fail, and let's not destroy our beautiful town by making this huge corporate entity,” they said, continuing “what I'm more worried about is the town and even in the six years that I've been in town, I can see it changing… The people that really love this place and have committed a lot to it are getting priced out and can’t live here anymore.”

RMR has powder fields galore and enough terrain to ski your heart out – just ask Peyton about Doug’s Run. But how does joining a big corporate pass affect a town beyond its lift lines and general atmosphere? We left Rossland just as curious as when we got there. What’s the town going to look like in ten, twenty years? 

The patroller left us with something to think about as we packed up our cars and shuffled out of the basement one last time. “As a local, you know, this mountain started as a club and it was for locals by locals,” the patroller said, “and now it is a resort, and there is positives to that and negatives to that.”

With the rain crusted hills and the steam infused air behind us, we made our way to the foggy riverside town of Nelson, British Columbia. This fierce ski town houses the fully independent mountain of Whitewater, a ski area whose food is nearly as good as its fan favorite run: Diamond Glades. 

Among its infamous 40 cm dumps of snow and unbeatable lodge food lives a tight knit and welcoming ski community. “People are just friendly here” said Alan, an 11 year Whitewater ski bum. “It's just a cool place to be and it's easy to make friends.” 

Behind the friendly atmosphere lies a rich history embedded with independence. The three lift mountain was discovered in 1969 by two motorcycle riding businessmen. After roughly 9,000 community volunteer hours, skiers and riders enjoyed the first runs and lifts in 1973. The mountain, now of 48 trails, remains fully independent today and its connection to the community still plays a central role in its identity. 

“There's always a back and forth, a good conversation, an understanding of what the town wants versus what the ski hill’s needs are. I appreciate that and I don't think that could happen with a wider larger conglomerate ski resort” said Alan. According to him, this dialogue was felt and appreciated by the community and reflected in the management. Kirk Jensen, the ski area’s general manager, said that “making people feel like they can come out, reach out to us and speak their mind: tell us what they like or what they don't like'' is an important mountain priority. Kirk says that they appreciate this feedback so they “can continually strive to improve.”

Central to Whitewater’s independent identity is their unique ski experience. “We don't want to be a big resort [with] condos and high speed quads, we want to maintain that sort of lower skier density and higher quality experience” said Kirk. There is no cell service on any point of the mountain, allowing skiers to disconnect and truly engage with the amazing terrain and mountain experience Whitewater has to offer. This “alternative path” helps set Whitewater apart from other conglomerate mountains. 

On the managing side of Whitewater, “taking care of your passholders” is a top priority, said Kirk. They strive to have the best possible experience for their passholders who are typically local members of the Nelson community. 

The independent nature of Whitewater is fiery and passionate. “We’re true to who we are and want to stay independent” said Kirk, who hopes that the Whitewater experience remains free of the megapasses that run the current ski industry.

From Nelson, we headed north, driving alongside skinny lakes and dipping in and out of low hanging clouds. The white layers shrouded the landscape in mystery, protecting the secrets of jagged peaks that seem to grow with every mile. Upon reaching the northern third of Arrow Lake, we boarded a ferry, spitting rain greeting our barge as we floated west towards our next destination. We touched down on the opposite bank, immediately feeling something different about the energy of our surroundings as we motored another half hour north, snow banks growing as we neared the town of Revelstoke. 

Revelstoke has always been synonymous with skiing, whether that be a proud history of ski jumping, its claim as the birthplace of heli-skiing, or the modern day growth of Revelstoke Mountain Resort. The current ski area was developed in 2007, but there has been lift-accessed skiing on Mt. Mackenzie since the 1960s. Today, there are ambitious plans to expand the hill, with a new hotel, employee housing, and lift expansion all in the resort’s current  master plan . 

Amidst all of the expansion however, the sport’s accessibility remains a key area of focus. Laura Meggs is the ski area’s communication manager. She says the Ikon Pass is one of the best modern tools that she has to address the issue. “When you look at it from the perspective of mountain operation, it brings so many different people to your mountain that would never experience it,” says Laura. “It’s the reason I’m here.” 

Revelstoke’s remote location, almost 5 hours from Calgary and 2 and a half from Kamloops, adds additional challenges. “It’s just not an easy trek,” says Laura, but she says that the Ikon pass helps with that, luring people to the interior. “What you see is people doing a two day stop at the Big three (Banff Sunshine, Mt. Norquay, Lake Louise), coming into Revy for a couple [of days], and then going down to Red Mountain to wrap up the week before flying out. It really does create a full experience.” 

Still, Laura says, speaking from experience, reception to Ikon pass users is not always friendly. “As a user of Ikon, I can tell you that I’ve gone to places where you’re very unwelcome.” This is not a new opinion, with stories of disgruntled locals and crowded slopes virtually ever present since the Epic pass launched in 2008, and the Ikon pass’s arrival in 2018. 

In Revelstoke, though, we didn’t feel such sentiment. Many in the community seemed to be happy to welcome those who traveled north. The Ikon pass didn’t seem to be a “thing,” like it is in Colorado. In fact, we nearly sold the pass to an unsuspecting patroller who remarked that he would have loved to have something like that when he was younger, as his family could only afford to ski a couple of days a year when traveling.

Many in town spoke like Richard Smith, a Revelstoke local who has been skiing in the area since the 1970s. He shared his excitement about the ski area’s development. “We dreamed about that ski hill for 25 years before it happened,” said Richard. “That [ski area] saved this town.” 

While the ski area has certainly rejuvenated excitement and industry in Revelstoke, Smith was also quick to acknowledge its contribution to ballooning real estate prices. “They used to call it Revelstuck because you couldn’t sell your house,” Richard says. “Today, the house in downtown that sold for $75,000 now sells for $750,000.” 

In many ways, Revelstoke is a microcosm of the industry as a whole, with accessibility for travelers leading to adverse impacts on locals who call mountain towns home. Multi mountain passes have made it cheaper for visitors to ski, and the arrival of Airbnb has added attractive, affordable short term lodging to the equation. Unfortunately, these changes have come at the expense of the very workers and locals who are essential to running the ski mountain and these small mountain towns. Might accessible skiing mean inaccessible living for locals?

We slipped off our rightfully putrid boots in the Revelstoke parking lot, threw our skis in the box and settled in for the five hour drive to the last stop of our powder highway. The sounds of helicopters humming dimmed as we made our way out of town – or perhaps it was Henry drifting off into an aprè-induced snooze, we weren’t too sure. We journeyed on, cresting over the legendary Rogers Pass and eventually making our way south to the small town of Fernie, nestled in the Elk Valley of the East Kootenays. 

It doesn’t take long – ten minutes to be exact – to get from downtown Fernie to, well, Fernie Alpine Resort. The mountain’s history dates back to 1879 with the  legend of the Griz . The story goes like this: a baby boy named Griz was born in a grizzly cave, he killed his grizzly roomate, he was a badass, Griz had an eight foot musket, he shot his musket into the clouds and grade-A powder snow has been falling from the clouds above Fernie ever since.  

The ski area was officially established in the 1950’s with the construction of a single rope tow lift. Since then, Fernie Alpine Resort has installed ten lifts, put in a (failed) bid to host the Winter Olympic Games, and expanded to over 2,500 acres of skiable terrain.

“It’s a big [hill] but it’s got a small attitude,” said Don Labelle, a 17 season Fernie local.

For ski patroller Paul Vanderpyl, what keeps him coming back after 10 years of skiing and working at the mountain is something called the “Fernie factor,” a term used to describe the unpredictability of forecasting the weather in and around Fernie Alpine Resort. 

“There are many days where our forecast overnight will be 3-5 centimeters and you wake up with 35 centimeters,” said Paul. 

Fernie’s affinity for powder days, whether its origins lie in the Griz or the Fernie factor, hasn’t gone unnoticed. Resorts of the Canadian Rockies (RCR), who own a total of five Canadian resorts, acquired the then called Fernie Snow Valley in 1997. 22 years later, in March of 2019, Vail Resorts partnered with RCR, offering seven ski days at any RCR resort to Epic Pass members. 

Don said he hasn’t noticed much change since RCR purchased Fernie and that “everybody kind of says that they (RCR) prioritize their other resorts.” 

When asked about how he felt about RCR’s acquisition of Fernie, Paul said “there’s good and bad. Fernie would have gone under without RCR.”

Paul mentioned one of the pluses of these big companies is insurance offered for bad snow years, or perhaps a more relevant example like a global pandemic. He said that since the partnership, he’s not noticed much change, and that it’s been “consistently fun” for as long as he’s been at the mountain.

So what did we learn in our two weeks on the road? On our twenty hour drive home, we certainly had a moment to stop and reflect. 

There’s a heck of a lot of funk, friendliness, and fun in British Columbia. Wherever we went, we found big smiles, wacky stories, lots of jokes, and an appreciation for life lived the Kootenay way (slowly). We met people from all over the world, learned about storied skiing history, and were even invited into Richard’s house for some local venison jerky. 

Multi mountain passes have some unique benefits. They’re great for the traveler who wants to experience a whole host of different ski areas. They have brought prices down for all. They’re increasing accessibility across the industry, and these are all great things. Without them, the trip would’ve been impossible for the five of us. But we also felt other impacts. In some areas, a loss of culture, a slow march away from the things that made some of these places unique, attractive, and different. 

To be honest, even after going on this trip, we’re still not sure what to think of it all. Sure, this pass has allowed us, five college kids on a shoestring budget, to travel the legendary powder highway. But at the expense of who, or what? Skiing all over North America under one pass is rad, but so is affordable housing. Ski areas should have the resources to provide a sustainable skiing experience for their guests for decades to come, but you shouldn’t have to take out a loan to get a slice of pepperoni pizza at the food court. I guess you could think about it like managing to sleep two in a twin XL. It’s complicated.  

Heck, we might have to re-examine our research methods and go back.