This article is featured in the 2026 Winter Carnival Issue.
Last winter, I put on skis at the Dartmouth Skiway for the first time in my life. Coming from Atlanta, Ga., my experience with snow was limited to rare, panicked afternoons when the city would shut down over a light dusting. Growing up, I rarely saw snow in the winter, let alone considered throwing myself down a mountain willingly. Out of curiosity, I fell down a rabbit hole of skiing history and a particular American character I couldn’t stop reading about: the ski bum.
As I learned more, it became clear that the ski bum has been slowly disappearing from American consciousness in recent years.
A ski bum is, at heart, a person who organizes their life around skiing at the expense of comfort, social approval and, most importantly, money. The classic version is the seasonal worker who turns up to a mountain town for winter and takes a job that exclusively funds their skiing.
While skiing has always been an expensive hobby, the last decade has been plagued by rising prices, according to Park Record. For the 2025–26 season, Deer Valley in Utah tested the limits of the market with peak-day walk-up tickets reaching $349, more than double what a ticket cost just 10 years ago, even when adjusted for inflation. At other Alterra and Vail-owned properties, “window rates” of $250 or more have become the new standard.
In towns like Jackson Hole, Aspen or even nearby Killington, Vt., the ski bum has been priced out in less obvious ways. Short-term rentals have cannibalized local housing stock, turning employee apartments into $400-a-night Airbnbs. Studio apartments in these areas can cost upwards of $3,000 a month, effectively limiting ski bums’ access to the mountain.
Skiing has become increasingly unaffordable and an incredibly difficult-to-justify hobby for first-timers. There is a widening gap between the sport’s image of winter bravery, freedom and community and its reality as a gated experience shaped by money.
Dartmouth’s answer to this problem sits about 20 minutes from campus.
The Dartmouth Skiway is a readily accessible entry point for people who have never considered skiing before — and it’s one of the rare places where the sport still feels priced for normal people. A season pass costs $59 for first-year students and $99 for other undergraduates. At many corporate resorts, a single day ticket can cost three or four times that amount.
Even the “try it once” costs are unusually humane. This February, adult day tickets run $35 on many weekdays and $60 on many weekends. Rentals start at $25 per day for Dartmouth students. And for students without a car, Dartmouth provides a free shuttle to and from campus and the mountain.
It’s easy to take this access for granted. But it’s remarkable how affordable skiing remains for Dartmouth students and the Upper Valley community. For many, this is a rare chance to bring a friend who has never been on a chairlift without worrying about the financial burden. That kind of casual access to skiing is exactly what the ski bum spirit depends on.
Use the Skiway even if you’ve never skied. Use it especially if you’re nervous. Go once, fall, and go again. Bring someone new. Make it normal. The ski bum doesn’t disappear all at once but fades when the sport stops being a weekly ritual and becomes a once-a-year splurge.
As long as Dartmouth continues to make skiing as accessible as possible to students and the Upper Valley community, it can do its part to protect the ski bum.
Opinion articles represent the views of their author(s), which are not necessarily those of The Dartmouth.
