Do you remember skiing in the ‘80s? Back then, a lift ticket to Brighton, Solitude, or Snowbird cost around $12, and you’d spend the day with friends on the slopes in jeans, laughing at the mishaps of others struggling to get off the chairlift. Skiing wasn’t just a sport; it was a culture—laid-back, affordable, and accessible. Fast forward to today, and a single day at Snowbird will set you back $206. Park City? A staggering $300. What happened?
Corporate greed happened.
The ski industry has transformed over the past few decades, and not necessarily for the better. Companies like Vail Resorts and Alterra Mountain Company, owners of the Epic and Ikon Passes, respectively, have introduced multi-resort passes that revolutionized skiing—but not without consequences. While these passes initially offered an affordable way to ski across numerous destinations, their costs have doubled, pricing out many locals. The Ikon Pass now costs around $1,200. Sure, it’s still a deal if you ski 30 times a season, but what about the rest of us who just want to go a handful of times?
Here’s where the issue of corporate greed becomes clear. Resorts aren’t just charging astronomical lift ticket prices. They’ve adopted “over-the-top” methods of catering to the elite, often at the expense of local skiers. Take Snowbird as an example. On a visit between Christmas and New Year’s, my son and I spent two and a half hours waiting for the resort to open, followed by another two and a half hours waiting in line at the GADZoom lift. That’s five hours of waiting—and we paid $200 each for the privilege.
But here’s the kicker: as we stood in line, we watched skier after skier zip past us with a cut-in-line pass, often called the Max Pass. For an additional $80, these skiers bypassed the regular lines and enjoyed multiple runs while the rest of us were stuck waiting. This “upgrade” not only felt like a slap in the face to those who’d already paid a small fortune but also highlighted the growing divide between those who can afford the extras and those who can’t.
Local skiers are being squeezed out in other ways, too. Ski culture used to thrive on community, with locals forming the backbone of the industry. But as one commenter on Instagram noted, “Tourists are not as loyal to a resort anymore. They’re not even loyal to a city or a state. They’re loyal to snow. When bad years come, the only thing that will help a resort’s bottom line is the relationship with the local market. If you’ve pissed them off or made it unattainable, you will get what you get.”
Resorts like Snowbird and Park City seem more focused on squeezing every dollar out of tourists than fostering goodwill with locals. From $20 burgers to exorbitant lift prices, the message is clear: these mountains are no longer for everyone. And while resorts claim to reinvest profits into infrastructure and snowmaking, the reality is that many of these changes cater primarily to high-paying customers.
It’s not just about affordability; it’s about the experience. The long lines, overcrowded slopes, and “elite-only” perks make skiing feel less like the joyful, carefree activity it once was and more like a luxury reserved for those willing to pay a premium.
So, what can be done? First, resorts need to prioritize locals. Offering affordable season passes and removing pay-to-cut-line schemes would go a long way in restoring balance. Second, they need to acknowledge that their long-term success relies on fostering a sense of community, not just catering to wealthy tourists.
Skiing in Utah has always been about more than just the sport; it’s been about the culture, the camaraderie, and the love of the mountains. If we’re not careful, we’ll lose that culture to the very corporate greed that’s driving up prices and driving away locals.
As the snow falls and the slopes fill up this season, let’s not forget what made skiing great in the first place. It wasn’t the $20 burgers or the cut-in-line passes. It was the people, the shared experiences, and the simple joy of being on the mountain. Let’s hope Utah’s ski resorts can find a way to bring that back.
