From Pink Vail to Skiing With Heroes, on-snow charities give extra meaning to a day on the mountain.
Voluptuous tutus, sequined pirate hats, flowing superhero capes—all pink—proliferated on Vail’s slopes. In costumes and with flare, skiers joined an annual charity event called Pink Vail, which is held each spring.
All aboard the Winter Park Express, this skier experiences the reinvigoration of a Colorado ski train.
The jingling alarm didn’t wake me, but the sound of a train whistle did. I sat up straight. It was Ski Train Day—no regular Saturday ski day—when the Winter Park Express would run from Denver’s Union Station to Winter Park Resort and back.
Former ski resort mogul Les Otten offers a peek at his latest project and his big plans for the Dixville Notch resort.
Les Otten is back in the ski business with grand plans for turning one of the last remaining gems of New Hampshire’s grand hotel era into a full-amenity base area village and what would be the Northeast’s largest ski area. In a recent interview, the former CEO of American Skiing Co. sketched out his plans for revitalization of the Balsams Resort in far-northern Dixville Notch, well-known as home of first-in-the-nation voting.
Weather guy Mark Breen is loving this winter as much as the rest of us. And he sees more of the same in the longterm forecast. Sorry about that, Western resorts.
Mark Breen’s calm baritone is a familiar part of the soundtrack to life in Vermont, where his detailed daily forecasts air daily on Vermont Public Radio. He’s the senior meteorologist and planetarium director at the Fairbanks Museum in St. Johnsbury, where his Eye on the Sky weather forecasts are produced. Breen doesn’t spend a lot of time riding ski lifts, but says he likes to get out with friends on nordic skis or snowshoes. And he’s a big fan of winter.
Colorado's Copper Mountain Resort is poised to win the hearts of a new generation of skiers by giving them what they really want: a kick-ass mountain.
It's a clear, blue day in early March. A few thready clouds stretch out thin on the horizon. We’ve hiked a quarter mile from where the snowcat dropped us and are catching our breath at the top of Tucker Mountain. The patrol “dumpster” is the only structure—an ugly rectangular box marring an otherwise lovely view of the pyramid peaks of the Ten Mile and Mosquito ranges. The steeps of Copper Bowl, Fremont Glades, and the gastronomically named Taco and Nacho splay out below—50-plus-degree pitches packed with cold, chalky snow.