When two ski resorts are merged, does it feel like you're skiing on one mountain? Sounds like a riddle, but that was the question I asked myself as I readied for a day on the slopes of Park City Mountain Resort in Utah in late February.
Now spanning 7,300 acres, Park City includes what until this year were the two distinct ski areas of Park City and Canyons. Vail Resorts, which purchased both mountains in 2014, conjoined them over the summer by constructing the 1.5-mile long Quicksilver Gondola. It was part of Vail's $50 million improvement project ahead of the 2015-16 ski season, and it turned Park City into the largest ski resort in the U.S. In all of North America, only Whistler Blackcomb in British Columbia, with 8,171 skiable acres, is larger.
Heading up the mountain that day for my first run, I had only a general plan. I was going to start out on the western edge of the Park City half of the resort, where I'd be skiing with public relations specialist Jessica Miller as part of a hosted media visit. From there, I'd work my way east toward the new gondola. I planned to end my day at the Canyons Village base, close to my room in the Hyatt Place Park City, which had opened its doors only a few weeks earlier.
As Miller gave me a brief overview of the resort on that first chairlift ride, I was a bit daunted by its sheer scope. In fact, I felt as if I had to crane my neck just to get a good look at the entire trail map that was affixed to the chairlift safety bar.
Park City now comprises 17 peaks and 14 bowls with a vertical rise of 3,200 feet. Forty-one lifts or gondolas access the ski area's more than 300 runs. The distance from Park City's western boundary near the 9,998-foot Jupiter Peak to its eastern edge near 9,602-foot Murdock Peak is six miles. On-mountain dining is available at 10 lodges, warming huts and grills. In other words, it's big.
A modest storm had passed through the night before, so as Miller and I began skiing we were fortunate to have a couple of inches of fresh powder to work with. Powder is always nice, but it was especially useful this day, since it sat on top of an icy, hard pack that had developed as the snow had melted and refroze during the previous days of unseasonably warm weather.
We made our way through a mix of intermediate and black diamond runs, struggling against a relatively dense fog that clung to the mid-altitudes of the mountain. In an act of self-preservation we stayed away from the double diamond, tree-studded runs of Jupiter Bowl and settled in on the set of blue hills that run beneath the high-speed, six-seat King Con Express, which Vail upgraded from a four-seat chair during the off-season.
Later, we made a point of riding the nearby Motherlode Express, which was also upgraded to a six-seat chair ahead of this season, then made our way down to the Miners Camp, at the foot of the Quicksilver Gondola, for lunch.
Vail knocked down the Snow Hut lodge after the 2015 season and replaced it with Miners, which though twice as big as its predecessor is easier to traverse for people walking around in clunky ski boots because it's on one level. I dined on the belly-warming hobo stew, made from braised beef and winter-root vegetables, and then headed with Miller to the adjacent gondola.
Quicksilver, with 61 eight-seat cars, is what has turned Park City and Canyons into one mega-ski area. The eight-and-a-half-minute ride takes skiers 300 feet off the ground as they pass over the gap, which contains homes and a roadway and used to separate the resorts. Riders can get off the gondola at midstation, about three-and-a-half minutes from the Canyon side, then ski down one of two new intermediate runs to reach access to the remainder of Canyon's 4,000 acres of terrain.
Miller told me the gondola has operated as expected this year, without mechanical problems. In its quarterly financial report, released March 10, Vail Resorts said that through January of this season Park City was reporting double-digit visitation and revenue growth "following our transformational capital investments."
Miller and I chose to get off Quicksilver at midstation. No point in riding to the bottom when you can ski there, I told her.
The short and convenient ride between points at midmountain felt in all ways like I was moving within a single ski area, rather than jumping between two resorts.
Shortly thereafter, Miller headed back to the office, and I resolved to keep skiing my way across Canyon to its most westerly lift, the Super Condor Express, where my host had told me I'd find plenty of steep terrain but few skiers.
Despite the significant distance involved, I got there easily. The mountain's many express chairs helped.
The fog had long since cleared, replaced by intermittent snowfall. I tooled around on steep but manageable runs with ominous names like Thrasher and Devil's Friend. I was a day's skiing away from my starting point at the Park City base but was barely aware of it. I just knew that I didn't want the afternoon to end.