Understanding the Ski Patroller Strike for Fair Pay
The gondola at Winter Park hung still in the frigid air, its cabins swaying like Christmas ornaments in the breeze. Over a hundred skiers and snowboarders dangled high above the ground, the machinery stilled by a mechanical failure. By the time ski patrollers arrived, the sun had already started its descent. Using ropes, harnesses, and the kind of calm precision you want in someone lowering you from a hundred feet up, the patrollers worked through the night, saving every stranded soul.
This wasn’t just another day on the job. It was the job—life-and-death decisions made quietly, efficiently, and without fanfare. Yet, for the men and women responsible for keeping the mountain safe, days like these are also a reminder of their worth—and the growing frustration that their worth isn’t being acknowledged.
Across ski resorts in the United States, patrollers are voicing discontent. The frustration isn’t just about pay, though pay is part of it. It’s about respect, sustainability, and a fair share of the industry’s wealth, wealth generated in part by their expertise. In Park City, patrollers are at an impasse with Vail Resorts. In Montana, a union in Whitefish is preparing for action. And in Winter Park, they’re descending from gondolas—metaphorically and literally—with a renewed sense of purpose.
Park City: The Powder and the Precipice
At Park City Mountain Resort, the conflict between ski patrollers and Vail Resorts has taken on the contours of a textbook labor dispute. In May 2024, the Park City Professional Ski Patrol Association (PCPSPA) saw their previous contract expire. Since then, over 20 negotiation sessions have come and gone without a deal.
The patrollers want more than $21 an hour, the current starting wage, arguing it doesn’t reflect the rising cost of living in a resort town like Park City. They’re asking for $23, along with better benefits and pay that rewards experience. The raises, they argue, aren’t just about fairness; they’re about retaining staff who might otherwise flee to higher-paying resorts—or entirely different industries.
Management has countered with statistics. Wages, they say, have risen 50% over four years, with an average patroller now earning $25 per hour. But the averages include higher-paid supervisors, and patrollers point out that numbers like these don’t pay Park City rents.
“There’s always this perception of the glamorous life,” said one patroller, who asked to remain anonymous. “But no one sees what it’s like to be a 15-year veteran of patrol and still have to share a rental with four roommates.”
In December, the PCPSPA took a unanimous strike authorization vote. While no one is rushing to walk off the job during the holiday rush, the vote signals the seriousness of their demands. Across the industry, the stakes of this standoff are being watched closely.
A Career of Extremes
Ski patrollers aren’t lifeguards in fleece. They’re EMTs, avalanche forecasters, rope-rigging technicians, and—when the lifts fail—mountain evacuation specialists. Their expertise keeps resorts open and keeps guests alive.
Consider the Winter Park gondola rescue. Over the course of several hours, patrollers used rope systems to lower more than 170 guests from stalled cabins. Not a single injury occurred.
“It’s not a job you can just wing,” said one industry veteran. “You’re talking about people’s lives—whether it’s a gondola rescue or stabilizing someone with a spinal injury. You need skill, training, and experience.”
Those qualities come at a cost, and patrollers are arguing it’s time the cost be recognized.
The Tension Between Peaks and Profit
The core of the conflict is structural. In 2021, Vail Resorts announced their “Epic Lift Upgrade,” a $320 million investment in new lifts across their properties. At the same time, patrollers across multiple resorts report feeling squeezed, with wages stagnating even as workloads grow.
“It’s hard to see the money flowing into marketing campaigns and infrastructure,” one patroller said, “when you’re arguing over a couple of bucks an hour.”
For Vail, it’s a balancing act. Publicly, they point to their pay raises and health benefits as evidence of progress. Privately, industry insiders suggest they’re wary of setting precedents that might ripple across their 41 properties.
A Unionization Wave
The struggle in Park City is part of a broader trend. Ski patrol unions have been forming, reforming, and flexing their muscles in recent years. In Whitefish, Montana, a newly formed union has hinted at a mid-season strike if progress isn’t made. Keystone’s patrol rallied in solidarity with Park City, staging a visible walk-in to highlight shared grievances.
These unions are small but growing, their demands shaping a larger conversation about what it means to work—and live—in the ski industry. For many patrollers, it’s not just about money but the viability of a career they love.
The View from the Summit
What happens next? Strikes remain rare in the ski industry, but the unanimous votes in Park City suggest the tide is turning. Negotiations are ongoing, and both sides are under pressure to resolve the dispute before the peak holiday season.
For the patrollers, the stakes are existential. A win in Park City could ripple across the industry, setting new standards for pay, benefits, and working conditions. For the resorts, the stakes are financial. A prolonged dispute—or worse, a strike—could disrupt operations during the busiest time of the year.
But beyond the immediate battle lies a larger question: What is the value of safety? And who ensures it? In Winter Park, it was the ski patrollers who dangled from gondolas, calmly working their way through the night. In Park City, they’re now dangling something else—the possibility of a new, fairer balance in the mountains.
Final Thought
On your next chairlift ride, take a moment to notice the world patrollers keep running. The avalanche control, the quiet efficiency of a rescue sled whisking by—it’s all their handiwork. They aren’t asking for much, just enough to keep doing what they do best. After all, they’re the reason you can focus on the turns and not what might happen if you miss one.