In January, my family and I arrived at Pomerelle Mountain Resort in southern Idaho to find fresh powder, inexpensive lift tickets, no lines and bargain burgers grilling at the base. What more could a skier ask for?
Perhaps a faster chair, but we chalked that up to vintage charm.
Last fall when I purchased the Indy Pass — the small-resort answer to the Epic and Ikon passes — I’d never heard of Pomerelle, one of the resorts I now had access to.
But the Indy Pass, established in 2019 with 34 members, exists to introduce skiers to the independent, often family-owned resorts — now more than 230 of them — that individually lack the marketing power to compete with Vail Resorts and Alterra Mountain Company, issuers of Epic and Ikon.
Skiing is an expensive sport. Large resorts often command more than $200 for a same-day lift ticket, offering access to extensive terrain and high-speed chairlifts to maximize your run time.
In contrast, small ski resorts offer cheaper prices on everything from lift tickets to lunches, which is especially appealing to families and novices. Parking is usually free.
Designed for skiers seeking variety as well as affordability, Indy offers two days each at member resorts on three continents (the majority are in the United States). To test the payoff, I bought the Indy+ Pass for $469 last spring (this upgrade on the $349 base pass is exempt from blackout dates) and studied the Indy Pass map. Clusters of resorts in the East, Midwest and Rocky Mountains offered intriguing opportunities for ski-centric road trips.
Last month, with my husband and son, we drove roughly 1,200 miles between Salt Lake City and Missoula, Mont., skiing seven days at five resorts in Utah, Idaho and Montana. We came out ahead financially — individual tickets would have cost $547 per person for this ski trip alone — while exploring throwback lodges and learning to embrace family time on slow chairlifts.
‘Skiing the way it used to be’
Vail Resorts had just settled a strike at nearby Park City Mountain Resort when we set out from Salt Lake City for Beaver Mountain, an Indy member near Logan, Utah, about 110 miles north.
The Seeholzer family has been operating Beaver, considered the oldest, continuously run family-owned resort in the country, since 1939 (regular lift tickets cost $70).
“Our unofficial catchphrase is ‘Skiing the way it used to be,’” said Travis Seeholzer, the resort’s third-generation general manager. “There’s not a bunch of fast lifts and glitzy lodges, but relaxing days of skiing away from the hustle and bustle.”
Midday on a snowy Saturday, Beaver was relatively busy with cars parked down the forested approach road. Still, it was less than a five-minute walk to Harry’s Dream Lift, a triple chair that took us to the 8,860-foot summit.
Small resorts tend to have shorter runs; compare Beaver’s 1,700-foot vertical drop with Park City’s 3,200 feet. But we appreciated the variety — most of the runs were rated intermediate or advanced — and being part of a laid-back ski scene where B.Y.O. snacks stuffed the lodge cubbies.
“We thought Epic and Ikon were a death knell. We found the complete opposite,” Mr. Seeholzer said. “A lot of people are just looking for that different experience and a little slower pace.”
Fresh powder, bargain burgers
From Beaver, we drove 155 miles northwest to Albion, Idaho, to stage our next ski day from the Marsh Creek Inn, a comfortable motel with a 19th-century log cabin that serves as its lobby (our two-bed room cost $130 a night).
The manager sent us one community over to Declo for dinner at Wick’s Steak Place, the restaurant highlight of the trip, with rodeo events on every television, taxidermy on the walls and apple-wood-fired steaks (from $24.99) and American Wagyu burgers ($17.99) on the menu.
In the morning, fresh snow slowed our approach to Pomerelle on a steep and winding road through the frosted pines of the Sawtooth National Forest to a base elevation of nearly 8,800 feet.
Established in 1940, the ski area — with two main chairlifts, 500 acres and a 1,000-foot vertical drop — gets 500 inches of snow on average annually. By the afternoon, we were still tracking through fresh powder fields.
“We’re here to spread the passion for skiing,” said Zack Alexander, the mountain manager, noting the resort’s family-friendly prices (tickets are $53) and popular ski school. “We try to deliver the same quality experience you can get at bigger resorts without all the frills and expense.”
A cast-iron wood stove heated the simple base lodge, which was filled with cafeteria tables attached to rows of metal stools. Outside, cooks grilled juicy $10 cheeseburgers over a slope-side grill.
“People will come back for that burger,” Mr. Alexander said with a laugh.
Limited hours
Purchasing the slightly higher-price Indy+ Pass, we were able to get around blackout dates, which vary by resort. But we learned the hard way that some resorts aren’t open daily, including Soldier Mountain, in tiny Fairfield, Idaho.
The two-lift operation, with 1,150 skiable acres and a summit elevation of 7,177 feet, lies about 140 miles north of Pomerelle. Our host at an Airbnb loft on a Highland cattle ranch ($120 a night) near Fairfield informed us that Soldier operates Thursdays through Sundays.
By phone, one of its investors and the mountain’s former general manager, Paul Alden, explained that the remote location — 90 minutes or more from Twin Falls and Boise — and the lack of local lodging make it hard to open full time.
“We’re a drive-to area and the drive-tos aren’t close by,” Mr. Alden said.
A high-end treat
We briefly considered hitting nearby Sun Valley, one of the nation’s best-known resorts, until we priced tickets at $255 a person. Sticking to the Indy plan, we drove 200 miles north via the winding Payette River Scenic Byway to Tamarack Resort in Donnelly.
Tamarack has had a troubled 20 years in business — its majority owners filed for bankruptcy in 2008 — but you wouldn’t know it from the expansive base village with 132 ski-in/ski-out condos above trendy shops and restaurants.
High-speed lifts delivered us to the 7,700-foot summit, with photogenic views over Lake Cascade. Intermediate and advanced runs dominated the uncrowded slopes, with a 2,800-vertical drop and stashes of powder among the trees. A luxury resort in the making — an elaborate midmountain lodge opened this season — Tamarack felt like a high-end excursion.
For the next three nights, we based ourselves in McCall, an adventure town 20 miles north of Tamarack with access to another nearby Indy member, Brundage Mountain Resort.
In winter, McCall attracts skiers, snowboarders and snowmobilers, but lodging rates remained reasonable at the newly renovated Nordic Inn ($135 a night), walking distance to restaurants and shops.
McCall shut down early during our stay. The bartender at Salmon River Brewery closed after serving us dinner (chicken potpie, $16) and joined us down the block at the 1947 Foresters bar for a nightcap.
‘Low-density, family-friendly’
It could have been the ptarmigan wandering the slopes at Brundage, but we fell hard for the six-lift area with a 1,921-foot vertical drop, which seemed to have more snow than nearby Tamarack.
We found a groove at Brundage that we repeated over two days, spending mornings on the sunny backside Lakeview Bowl, cruising groomed blues and seeking powder in the trees between them, then switching to the northwest-facing front side on bright afternoons.
Not as upscale as Tamarack or as rustic as Pomerelle, Brundage maintains a “low-density, family-friendly ski atmosphere,” said Ken Rider, the general manager.
Most of the skiers we met at the resort’s Smoky’s Bar & Grill over $6 après-ski beers on the sun deck or at Bear’s Den cabin serving $8 cups of chili were Idahoans. A regular from Boise identified the surrounding mountain ranges visible from the top of a chairlift at over 7,600 feet, including the distant Wallowa Mountains in Oregon, describing Brundage as her favorite.
“It’s a hidden gem,” she said.
Commuting to the snow
From McCall, we could have turned west to Indy resorts in Oregon and Washington or continued to northern Idaho. Instead, we opted to visit friends in Montana via Missoula, a stunning five-hour drive northeast over the snowy Lolo Pass at the state border.
Twelve miles outside Missoula, Montana Snowbowl makes a scruffy first impression. Its A-frame lodge, centered on an open fireplace, and a small hotel next door barely seem to fit into the tight, sloping base area.
The aging double Grizzly chair lifted skiers 2,000 feet out of the base on a long ride to nearly 7,000 feet. The nearby LaVelle Creek chair reached the summit, at nearly 7,600 feet. The payoff for the long commute was some good snow at the top. But that deteriorated on the descent. Snowbowl needed snow.
The conditions didn’t stop us from enjoying Missoula, a vibrant college town with many breweries, including Gild, with craft beers from $6 and $5 chorizo tacos. We checked into the stylish Wren hotel, putting downtown attractions within walking distance ($139 a night).
We hoped for snow overnight, got a dusting and quit Snowbowl by midday. With the Indy Pass, we felt no regrets bailing. We would live to ski another day elsewhere. Our season — already paid off — had just begun.