Tom Key Understanding Ski Area Closures and Their Impact
Avalanche fatalities are an annual reality, but this season has been particularly unforgiving. A string of powerful storms has tempted skiers and snowboarders into the backcountry with promises of pristine powder. In just a few weeks, these conditions have led to multiple tragedies, a stark reminder of the inherent risks that come with venturing beyond established boundaries.
In the French Alps on Christmas Day, a skier ignored avalanche warnings to chase untouched snow off-piste. The mountain responded with an avalanche that buried him under tons of snow. Hours later, rescue teams recovered his body, a grim conclusion to a fateful decision.
Utah’s Big Cottonwood Canyon saw two lives lost in separate incidents over a matter of days. Both snowboarders, ages 54 and 38, were caught in avalanches after venturing into the backcountry. One carried an active avalanche beacon, illustrating that even well-prepared adventurers are not immune to the dangers of unstable snow.
At Colorado’s Steamboat Resort, a skier ventured into the closed Christmas Tree Bowl on December 28, 2024, triggering an avalanche. Fortunately, he escaped unharmed and alerted ski patrol, but his actions diverted critical resources and underscored the risks of ignoring closures.
Idaho’s Silver Mountain brought a narrow escape. Snowboarders ducked a rope into permanently closed terrain, triggering an avalanche. Though they survived, their actions prompted strong warnings from resort officials about the risks of entering restricted areas and the strain it places on rescue teams.
These recent events are sobering examples of the risks that accompany the backcountry’s allure. With each storm, the stakes grow higher, making preparation, awareness, and restraint more critical than ever.
The Allure and the Consequences
We all know the signs. Bright orange placards affixed to poles, ropes strung like barriers in a medieval keep, stark warnings: “Danger. Closed Area.” Yet, for some, these markers are less prohibition than provocation.
Closed terrain often carries a mystique, an unspoken promise of powder fields untouched by the masses. But those ropes are there for a reason. Ski patrollers close terrain for avalanche risk, unstable snowpack, or hidden hazards like cliffs and crevasses.
When a skier ignores these warnings, they enter a world of unchecked danger. Between 2015 and 2023, over 120 fatalities in North America were linked to accidents in closed or off-limits ski terrain. The consequences of ignoring closures are often lethal.
A Culture of Recklessness
Part of the problem is cultural. Social media has turned powder stashes into status symbols. A photo of a pristine line, unmarred by other tracks, is worth a thousand likes. Videos of skiers or snowboarders carving through fresh powder, powder clouds billowing in their wake, dominate Instagram reels.
And then there are the videos of skiers and boarders setting off mini-avalanches as they descend—a plume of snow cascading down behind them like a river of light. These clips rack up views and likes, but they present a sanitized, curated version of reality. In real life, an avalanche is neither photogenic nor harmless. It’s a 35-ton freight train of snow capable of burying a person in seconds.
These moments—sanitized and shared in slow motion—build a narrative of invincibility. They imply that with enough skill or swagger, you can outrun the mountain. You cannot.
A Growing Crisis in the Ski Industry
Adding to the danger is an ongoing crisis of ski patrol staffing. Nowhere is this more visible than Park City, Utah, where ski patrollers have gone on strike. The dispute, centered on wages and working conditions, has left the slopes without their most critical safety net.
For skiers unfamiliar with how resorts operate, ski patrollers are the unsung heroes of mountain safety. They’re first on the hill, mitigating avalanche risk by setting off controlled slides with explosives. They treat injuries, rescue the stranded, and enforce the rules that keep the slopes manageable.
Without them, the mountain becomes a more precarious place.
Park City isn’t alone. Resorts across the U.S. are facing similar challenges. If these trends continue, the strain on remaining patrollers will only grow.
Avalanche Awareness
If there’s one thing you should take away from this, it’s this: the snow doesn’t care about your confidence or skill. Avalanche risk is real, and it doesn’t discriminate.
The first step to staying safe is education. If you’re venturing off-piste or into backcountry terrain, check the avalanche forecast. Sites like Avalanche.org and local avalanche centers provide daily updates on snow conditions.
Courses in avalanche safety are widely available and invaluable. Organizations like the American Institute for Avalanche Research and Education (AIARE), Avalanche Canada, and the American Alpine Institute offer comprehensive training. The American Alpine Institute is particularly noteworthy for its extensive programs that cover everything from basic avalanche awareness to advanced rescue techniques.
Next, carry the right gear. In addition to an avalanche beacon, probe, and shovel, consider investing in an airbag pack. These packs, equipped with inflatable airbags, can keep you on the surface of a slide, increasing your chances of survival. But remember: gear is useless without training. Take a course, practice with your equipment, and never ski alone in high-risk areas.
The Responsibility to Be Safe
At its core, this is a question of responsibility—to yourself, to your family, and to the patrollers who may risk their lives to save you.
Skiing and snowboarding have always danced on the edge of control. But crossing into closed terrain—flouting the warnings, ignoring the risks—turns exhilaration into recklessness.
The next time you see a boundary rope, remember the stories of those who crossed it and didn’t return. The powder might be perfect, but the cost is absolute.
For the love of the mountains—and for those who work to protect you on them—stay safe. The mountain doesn’t compromise.
