Blog: Generation Recreation

Return the Powder to the People

By Michael Pearlman, 11-14-08

There was once an era when world-class ski resorts opened with a goal of delivering a quality experience intended to attract the public to a growing sport. Pioneers like Paul McCollister, Pete Seibert and Dave McCoy founded mountains in Wyoming, Colorado or California with outstanding terrain first. The amenities came later.

How things have changed. Today’s ski industry is centered around making money off land instead of making turns in powder. The Yellowstone Club debacle currently playing out in bankruptcy court is one example, as is bankrupt Tamarack Resort in Idaho. The mountain is merely a commodity, an expensive amenity to be exploited for financial interests that have nothing to do with outdoor recreation.

Tim Blixseth’s grand real estate investment scheme (I have a problem describing the Yellowstone Club as a ski area) was born in the late 1990s. When the land exchange that allowed the Yellowstone Club to move forward was approved, I was just out of college and pursuing an advanced degree in powder skiing in Jackson Hole. While many of my peers were cashing in on the dot- com boom or heading off to law school, I was happily entrenched in the working class, just another ski bum waiter with a bachelors degree.

My fellow unwashed season pass-holders who waited patiently in the tram line each day reveled in the perceived nobility of neither having, nor needing, financial security. Freedom was spending the day in the mountains, whether it was hiking the backcountry or riding the lift. Even through the tunnel vision of our pursuits, it was impossible not to notice the changes happening in front of our eyes. Ritzy hotels began sprouting up in Teton Village, season passes got pricier and more tourists were hiring guides and charging to the front of the lift line.

Around 1998, I began hearing about a private ski area being constructed next door to Big Sky. A billionaire had secured some land through a land swap and was cutting trails and selling memberships. It would cost more than a million dollars just to join, if you were lucky enough to be invited. You’d build your house, hire your help and they’d lock the gates and keep the riffraff out.

I eventually learned that the Yellowstone Club had so few skiers that sensors were installed so lift operators would know when someone was actually riding a chair. Powder lasted for days and they had a run named EBITDA, which I learned stands for “earnings before interest, taxes, depreciation and amortization.’’ The employees were apparently treated well, but good luck trying to get an invitation to visit. For the masses, it was a mirage of a ski area, even though you could look down into it from Big Sky.

Fast-forward a decade and we now know that Blixseth’s fantasy was never a functional business model. The Yellowstone Club’s checking account has $40,000 in the bank, a $600,000 monthly payroll and more employees than members. They couldn’t sell enough memberships to run the place before the global financial crisis hit. A spectacular mountain where the owners can’t afford to operate the lifts overlooks a bankrupt development. Those who bought in and built their McMansions have learned that their dream enclave was being propped up with smoke and mirrors. They’re members of an exclusive club that no one wants to belong to.

The Yellowstone Club was never about skiing. The ski area was merely the carrot dangled in front of buyers to sell them land and the exclusivity that comes with deep pockets. You’ve got a lift mechanic who isn’t getting a paycheck, a cook with kids and no health insurance and subcontractors who’re probably never going to get paid what they’re owed.

I’ve got a proposal for the judge who’s handling the Chapter 11 reorganization of the Yellowstone Club. Return that public land to the taxpayers who were locked out while the owners hoodwinked everyone. Require the Yellowstone Club to start selling lift tickets to the public and give the former employees and everyone who’s owed money free season passes. Every dollar earned in lift-ticket sales should be set aside in a fund to make sure the employees and contractors get paid for their work. If the lifts don’t run, open the resort up to backcountry skiing enthusiasts willing to earn their turns on the empty slopes. I hear there’s some pretty good terrain up there and it looks like some current employees are going to have extra time on their hands this winter.

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