Now that it’s getting to be late July, and what snow is left in the lower 48 is sun-cupped enough to serve as summer training for the United States mogul team, many of us stalwarts are ready to call it a season. And what a season it was.
If you live in the West, chances are you can claim yourself witness to a record winter of some sort. If your home mountain didn’t break it’s previous record for snowfall, it probably chalked up an unprecedented storm total, 24-hour total, or snowpack. As it turns out, the 2011 season brought a new record of 60.54 million skier/snowboarder visits, the second time the 60 million mark has been broken.
These numbers, from a preliminary report released by the National Ski Areas Association, goes on to douse any industry insiders’ celebration with the caveat that this year’s 0.1% increase over the 2008 record is due to the late-season openings made possible by this year’s colossal snowpack. As you probably know, a good number of ski areas enjoyed July 4th openings this year, marking their latest operations on record, and adding some 50,000 skier visits to robust late-season numbers.
Shanie Matthews celebrating 4th of July in the Sierras.
These numbers highlight the sobering reality that lift ticket sales have been more or less stagnant for more than a decade. But before you, the snow-loving reader celebrates (“Sweet. More tracks for me.”), it’s important to note what unchanging skier visit numbers mean. To do so, let’s look at our sport’s history.
In the years following World War II, the U.S. not only enjoyed the emergence of its large middle class, but also new outdoor recreation opportunities. While the federal government developed boat ramps and campgrounds, the Army’s former alpine soldiers — veterans of the 10th Mountain Division — set about helping develop their old training grounds in Utah and Colorado as ski areas. Seeing endless possibilities, the 10th Mountain vets were eager to advance what had been likely the only distraction from feelings of impending doom during their combat training days. The American public pulled its sweaters from the mothballs, took to the snow, and lift-served skiing was born.
The sport’s trajectory followed a celestial arc with the appearances of stretch pants, Stein Eriksen, the boda bag, Robert Redford and Suzy Chapstick. By the late 1980’s, the sport of skiing had become an industry. Then, as though by collective realization of the abomination in combining short skis, long poles, flat groomers and music –and calling it ‘ballet,’ skier numbers began to plateau. The silent loss of innocence was deafening.
Even now, with snowboarding, twin tips, fat skis and rocker, the growth hasn’t returned. Which essentially means that instead of being a profitable sport full of promise, skiing has become an industry of big business, with a few players competing for revenues in a fixed market.
No longer banking on ticket sales growth, ski resort developers have shifted focus to efficiency: consolidating to achieve economies of scale, capturing maximum value through vertical integration (all revenues funnel back to the resort owner), and adding profitable revenue streams through real estate development. To put this jargon into plain language, industry trends have gone something like this: ski areas merge ownership for the cost savings that come from having to pay for one accounting department instead of two, as well as buying inventory in high volume from a single contract. Since lift ticket sales are no longer profitable, resort owners now control the lifts, shuttle buses, hotels, fudge emporiums and t-shirt shops. Since people are needed for sales, resorts reap the double reward of attracting customers with real estate sales, and having a captive market that apparently comes from places without t-shirts and fudge.
Northstar Village, Photo courtesy of Court Leve Photography.
And since we live in a capitalist society, this is all well and good. I mean, if the owners didn’t have profit as an incentive, we wouldn’t have places to go play in winter. A better on-snow experience translates to more profit, right? No longer.
The problem is, management has shifted from people who are passionate about the outdoors in winter, to executives who are passionate about maximizing this quarter’s earnings. Since skiing alone doesn’t generate great earnings, ski resorts now mimic amusement parks more than winter wonderlands. Given that ski resorts are often under outside ownership (some ski area operational decisions are made in a glass building in New York City), and control the majority of economic activity, the only money that stays local goes to low wage seasonal jobs. It is at this type of profit generation that the big resort owners and operators have gotten very skilled.
If you’re anything like me though, exiting through the gift shop, a la Sea World, leaves you feeling sleazy. You don’t want to pay through the nose for a coffee to subsidize a condominium development. In looking at all the far-reaching environmental and economic consequences from actively enjoying of our natural surroundings, sometimes it all seems hopeless.
But you will not just give up and quit your sport. Because you know that to do so is to no longer get out of bed in the morning. So you choose to take a conscientious approach, to look for alternatives geared towards mitigating your environmental impacts and spending with an eye toward local economies. Because you know that a dollar spent is not just a dollar spent.
How can you be conscientious about spending on your snow habit and getting back to your inner ski bum?
Here are some suggestions.
- Educate yourself: Research the lesser-known (and less expensive) ski areas in your region with terrain that appeals to you.
- Less is more: Chances are, a mountain with great skiing and minimal amenities will be a value for your money, making a relatively low environmental impact.
- Imagine where the money you choose to spend will most likely go: Money that stays local passes through local hands many times over.
- When in doubt of local business ownership, ask. For example, say you’re at a bar and starting to feel all right. The décor looks authentic, and you’re on the fence about staying until closing. It’s a perfect time to catch the bartender with a “Who owns this place?” If the bartender can name the owner, you have found your bar.
- If you do go to a resort, research discounted tickets beforehand, pack your lunch, and shop outside the resort village.
- Stop worrying about what could go wrong: Get packed, know your options and go. You didn’t become a mountain fanatic because it’s predictable or easy. A little chaos is what makes life fun.
Greg Seitz has spent his adult life in the Rocky Mountains. A passionate skier with a degree in wildlife biology, he has grown an interest in renewable resources, and interaction with the landscape in general. He will graduate with an MBA from University of Montana in 2011.
Related posts:
- Will Non-profits Like Montana’s Turner Mountain Rescue a Bloated, Beleagured Ski Industry? By Greg Seitz
- Unintentional Hypocrisy: Ski Community and Our Environmental Impact Accountability by Philip Sarnoff
- The State of Climate Change and the Ski Industry in 10 Points of View
- Explaining Ski Industry Demographics
- Happy Skier Index: Measuring the Skiing and Snowboarding Industry by Smiles Not Dollars
20 Jul 2011
The Rider's Voice