Why No New U.S. Ski Resorts Have Been Built in the Past 40 Years

The United States is home to over 480 ski resorts, offering mountains of various locations, shapes, and sizes. What you may not realize, though, is that essentially all of these resorts were built over five decades ago.

But wait a minute—skiing and snowboarding have exploded in growth in the 21st century, so why haven’t there been any serious new resorts since the 1980s? And has the industry changed enough in recent years that this trend might reverse itself? In this video, we’ll cover the compounding barrage of factors that made new ski resort development essentially impossible starting in the early 1970s, and then we’ll go through the attempts since then and whether they’ve made any headway.

 Part 1: The Original Growth of Skiing in America

But before we take a look at what stopped ski resorts from being built in America, we have to cover how their development started in the first place. 

Skiing in America began as a niche activity introduced by Scandinavian immigrants in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Early adopters practiced the sport in snowy regions like the Northeast and the Sierra Nevada, where rudimentary skiing facilities began to appear.

Woodstock, Vermont, became a pioneer for American skiing, hosting one of the first ski clubs in the country in 1903. Several other small hills spurred up in the following years, including Colorado’s Howelsen Hill, which is the oldest continuously operating U.S. ski resort today. Skiers relied on basic rope tows and natural snow, making the experience both rustic and labor-intensive. And while a few names that we all know today emerged by the 1930s, including Stowe, Sun Valley, and Alta, skiing remained a small-scale pastime pursued by local communities rather than a mainstream recreational activity.

The United States' involvement in World War II was a turning point for skiing’s popularity. The creation of the 10th Mountain Division, an elite group of mountain troops trained to fight in snowy terrain, helped elevate skiing from a niche hobby to a widely recognized activity. Soldiers trained in Camp Hale, Colorado, which is due south of present-day Vail, where they honed their skills in skiing, mountaineering, and wartime survival.

After the war, many veterans of the 10th Mountain Division became ambassadors for the sport, founding or managing ski resorts across the country. Resorts like Aspen and Arapahoe Basin owe much of their early success to these veterans' passion and expertise. Furthermore, wartime infrastructure projects—such as mountain roads and railways—helped make once-remote mountain regions accessible for future resort development.

Other economic factors helped too. In the late 1940s and early 1950s, the post-war boom gave rise to a new American middle class with more disposable income and leisure time. While skiing was once considered a sport for elites, it now began to attract a broader audience.

As skiing grew in popularity in the 1950s, the mountains kept getting easier and easier to reach. Improved highways and the growing popularity of air travel made it easier for people to reach remote mountain destinations that were previously way too impractical to get to. At the same time, ski technology evolved rapidly. Innovations in ski lifts, snow grooming equipment, and safer ski gear transformed skiing into a more accessible and enjoyable activity. Chairlifts became the new norm, whereas in decades past, visiting a resort had involved rope tows and surface lifts. This made it much more practical to build bigger and taller resorts than in years’ past. Resorts including Mammoth, Squaw Valley (now Palisades Tahoe), and Taos Ski Valley emerged as leading destinations during this time, drawing both seasoned skiers and beginners alike.

By the 1960s, the ski industry was booming. This period saw an explosion of resort development, driven not only by skiing's popularity but also by lucrative real estate opportunities. Many resorts were built as part of broader ventures, with developers selling condominiums and vacation homes alongside ski passes.

Public land leases also made large-scale ski resort construction feasible.  The Forest Service worked with developers to open vast tracts of land for skiing, leading to the creation of resorts that are well-known today like Vail, Park City, and Jackson Hole. A whopping 118 U.S. ski resorts that are still operating today opened in the 1960s, nearly doubling the amount from the previous decade.

But just as fast as it exploded in growth, essentially all major ski resort development came to a halt with what felt like the snap of a finger. After six notable debuts in 1972 and 1973, serious future developments were suddenly nowhere to be found.

Due to increased popularity, innovations in technology, and development-friendly government agencies, many ski areas opened in the 1950’s and 1960’s.

Part 2: Saturation of Prime Locations

In the early 1970s, new ski resort development slowed to a crawl, with an almost overwhelming compound of factors driving the change. The first and most obvious one of these was the saturation of conspicuously prime locations following the rush to build in the two decades prior.

By 1973, a lot of the best locations for ski resort development in the U.S. had already been claimed. The previous decades capitalized on accessible mountain ranges with favorable snowfall, suitable terrain, and proximity to population centers. Prime areas in Colorado, Utah, California, and Vermont had long been developed, leaving fewer viable locations for new large-scale resorts.

One factor was the slowdown in highway construction during this time period. The resorts built during the mid-20th century were strategically positioned to take advantage of infrastructure like highways and public lands, and with fewer new interstates being built, much of the remaining undeveloped terrain was either too remote or lacked the consistent snowfall needed to sustain a profitable operation.

Many of the best locations for a ski area based on snowfall, terrain layout, and public access had already been developed by the 1970s.

Part 3: Environmental Concerns and New Regulations

But while the saturation of the best locations helped slow down resort development, it was nothing compared to the slate of environmental regulations that appeared around this time. In the late 1960s, public opposition to large-scale construction on public lands increased dramatically. Many of the largest ski resorts in the U.S. lease land from the U.S. Forest Service, but obtaining new leases for development suddenly became exceedingly difficult.

A major turning point was the enactment of the National Environmental Policy Act (NEPA) in 1970. NEPA introduced stringent environmental review processes for projects involving federal lands or funding, requiring detailed assessments and approval from numerous agencies. While the act was incredibly impactful in its aim to safeguard natural resources, the additional layers of bureaucracy—such as Environmental Impact Statements (EIS) and public comment periods—made it far more challenging and time-consuming to develop new ski resorts. Projects that previously required a single permit might now need approval from dozens of agencies, ranging from the Forest Service to the Environmental Protection Agency. For developers, this created significant delays and increased costs, often derailing projects entirely.

Additionally, laws such as the Clean Water Act (CWA) of 1972, the Endangered Species Act (ESA) of 1973, and the National Forest Management Act (NFMA) of 1976 further complicated resort development. The CWA restricted alterations to rivers, streams, and wetlands, making it difficult to construct resort infrastructure such as roads, snowmaking reservoirs, and base villages. The ESA provided strict protections for threatened and endangered species, meaning any proposed ski area had to prove it would not disrupt critical habitats. This was especially problematic for developments in alpine environments, where species such as the Canada lynx and the spotted owl reside. Meanwhile, the NFMA required the U.S. Forest Service to create comprehensive land management plans, which, on the whole, placed greater emphasis on conservation and recreational balance than the more development-friendly attitudes of years’ past. Given how many resorts had been built through public land leases, this act had huge implications for future large-scale ski area developments.

The 1970s and 1980s also saw a rise in citizen activism and environmental litigation. As new regulations empowered environmental groups, legal challenges under these laws became common, often resulting in years-long court battles that delayed or entirely halted new ski resort projects, even if they’d made it past initial approvals processes. High-profile lawsuits set legal precedents that strengthened environmental protections and expanded the scope of regulations, making it even harder for developers to gain approvals

Beyond federal regulations, state and local environmental laws further restricted resort development. California, in particular, became one of the most difficult places to build a new ski resort due to the California Environmental Quality Act (CEQA), which was enacted in 1970. CEQA required environmental reviews similar to NEPA but applied at the state level, adding another layer of bureaucracy. Any ski resort proposal in California had to go through extensive environmental assessments, undergo public hearings, and withstand potential litigation from environmental groups. The process was often prohibitively expensive and time-consuming, deterring developers from even attempting new projects.

These combined legal and regulatory challenges created a near-impossible landscape for new ski resorts to be developed on public land.

New government regulations, such as the Clean Water Act, sought to protect natural resources. But they made ski area development more convoluted.

Part 4: Economic Pressures

But not every ski resort project could be killed by environmental opposition—after all, some privately-owned land parcels were still theoretically feasible to develop, and at least some public lands did have the right topography to pass all the regulatory hurdles. But it wasn’t just the new environmental regulations that were making new ski resort projects harder to justify. By the 1970s, the U.S. economy was not exactly in the place to support developments related to any sort of leisure activities.

Building a ski resort from scratch was (and still is) a monumental financial undertaking, and in the post-1970s economy, the return on investment was far from guaranteed. The cost of constructing ski infrastructure—including lifts, snowmaking systems, lodges, and access roads, among other things—could easily reach hundreds of millions of dollars. Additionally, resorts required expensive year-round maintenance, staffing, and marketing efforts to attract visitors and remain competitive. Even if a proposed ski area managed to get through the rest of the hurdles, securing financing and attracting investors became much more difficult.

During the mid-20th century, many ski resorts were funded as part of broader real estate ventures, with developers relying on the sale of vacation homes, condominiums, and commercial properties to subsidize ski operations. However, by the 1970s, rising interest rates and financial market instability made real estate-driven developments riskier. Without a guaranteed stream of revenue from real estate sales, developers faced an uphill battle in securing financing for new projects.

Furthermore, the ski industry began experiencing rising operational costs, including labor shortages, increasing insurance expenses, and the growing reliance on snowmaking to combat inconsistent snowfall. Snowmaking technology had improved dramatically since the early days of skiing, but the costs of installation and operation remained high. The 1970s and 80s were well before ski resorts seriously considered climate change in their planning and operations, but mountains still needed substantial infrastructure, including reservoirs, pumps, and energy-intensive snow guns, to ensure reliable conditions throughout the season. These costs made it even more difficult to justify building a new resort in an uncertain economic climate.

Significant lift and terrain enhancements have made the U.S. destination ski area landscape much more cutthroat in the past forty years.

Part 5: Expanding Existing Resorts As A Feasible Alternative

But okay, the U.S. economy didn’t stay bad forever, and by the 1980s, it recovered significantly. So why didn’t new major ski resorts get built at that point? Well, ski companies and investors recognized that expanding or improving existing resorts was far more financially viable than building new ones. Established resorts already had roads, lift networks, and lodging, reducing the need for major upfront capital investment. By upgrading lifts, expanding terrain, or adding new amenities, resorts could attract more visitors without the massive financial risk of creating a new ski area from scratch. In addition, working within pre-approved footprints saved them the regulatory headaches of trying to build something from scratch, as many resorts were permitted to operate on significantly more terrain than they actively used. 

This move to intra-resort development has had a surprisingly large impact on today’s ski scene. Since 1972, the typical destination ski resort has grown exponentially in size, with many of the resort areas you know and love today having opened in the 80s, 90s, and 2000s—despite the original resort itself opening decades earlier. Not to mention, the uphill ride experience has been thoroughly redesigned at essentially every serious destination since the 1970s; every single high-speed chairlift at a North American resort has been built in 1981 or later, and the same goes for most gondolas and aerial tramways. Examples of substantial resort expansions in just the past 15 years include Park City’s connection to Canyons Resort, Breckenridge’s Peak 6 area, and Steamboat’s Mahogany Ridge and Fish Creek Canyon zones. So while we haven’t exactly seen new destinations come into play over the past four decades, that’s not to say the resort experience hasn’t gotten a whole lot better for consumers.

The explosive inward growth at destination ski resorts has also introduced one more significant factor that impedes destination resort development—for any potential newcomers, existing resorts are now far more competitive than they were in the 1960s and 70s. Any newcomer would have to be exponentially larger, with modern lifts and world-class infrastructure, just to have a shot at drawing true destination visitors. Even ignoring the financial and regulatory barriers we’ve already discussed, the sheer scale that’s now required to build a competitive resort from scratch today makes the idea seem a lot more far-fetched than it would have been half a century ago.

Since the 1960’s many of the most popular ski areas across the country have greatly expanded their skiable terrain, such as at Breckenridge.

Part 6: The Two Exceptions to the Post-1973 Extinction: Beaver Creek and Deer Valley

Despite the near-total halt in new ski resort development after 1973, Colorado’s Beaver Creek and Utah’s Deer Valley stand out as the two notable exceptions, with Beaver Creek opening in 1980 and Deer Valley opening in 1981. Their success can be attributed to a barrage of incredibly favorable circumstances.

First off, both resorts were backed by experienced hospitality operators with political acumen. This helped them navigate the permitting processes despite increasing regulations.  Additionally, both mountains were also uniquely set up to leverage real estate development as a revenue stream; this model had become riskier for other new resort proposals, especially with the economic downturn of the 70s, but it was still viable in premium, high-demand locations. Combined with the experience of their project leaders, this factor made it much less likely for these resort projects to lose investor funding. Finally, both mountains made it to the approval stage at what could have literally been the last minute. In the case of Beaver Creek, the project was approved by the Forest Service just days before a new governor took office—one who had expressed his strong opposition to the ski area’s permit approval and new ski resort construction in general. Also, these two projects were already in motion before certain legal cases made the development landscape even more complex on the federal level.

So Beaver Creek and Deer Valley were able to squeeze their way into existence, getting us to the roster of destination U.S. ski resorts we still know today exactly 44 years ago.

The last two major resorts to come onto the US Ski scene were Utah’s Deer Valley, and Colorado’s Beaver Creek. They both had some incredibly favorable circumstances to push their development past the many challenges.

Part 7: Post-1981 Attempts at New Resort Development

So has anyone actually attempted to build a new large-scale ski resort since 1981? Well, while no new true destination ski resorts have opened in the U.S. since that year, several developers have attempted to end the development drought. However, the majority of these efforts have either failed spectacularly or faced significant setbacks.

Perhaps the best known failed ski resort project is that of the Disney Corporation. Originally planned for the Mineral King Valley in California, the resort faced intense environmental lawsuits and regulatory roadblocks, leading to its cancellation around the time the last new big ski resorts were able to open in the United States. That complicated future resort development was actually based on this plan. Disney tried again with another resort at Independence Lake in the late 1970s, but by that point, it was too late.

Similarly, Catamount, a proposed ski resort in Colorado near Steamboat Springs, failed despite two development attempts—one in the mid-1970s, and a second in the 1990s. Originally envisioned as a new destination resort that could be used as a venue for the 1976 Winter Olympics, the project went under after its developers went bankrupt in the wake of the declining economy. The plan was resurrected two decades later, and it actually received initial approval from the U.S. Forest Service after obtaining all necessary environmental permits. However, the project still faced local opposition due to its impact on housing, and developers eventually lost their financial backing for the project. The permit expired in 1998, and legislation has been introduced to turn this area into a federal wilderness area.

The most recent attempt at a new full-scale destination ski resort in the U.S. was Mayflower Resort in Utah. Located adjacent to Deer Valley, the project aimed to develop 3,700 acres of skiable terrain alongside a luxury real estate community. Mayflower was designed to follow a business strategy similar to Deer Valley’s when it first opened—prioritizing high-end lodging, capped skier numbers, and an emphasis on a premium experience.

However, as the project moved forward, Mayflower was absorbed into Deer Valley instead, effectively preventing it from becoming an independent resort. While the ski terrain itself is already in the process of being developed, it will not exist as its own distinct resort. This shift is just another example of how rather than creating new standalone resorts, developers are increasingly tying projects into existing ski infrastructure, reducing capital risk and regulatory hurdles.

Certain other developers decided to take other routes. One of the most interesting proposals in recent years was Bluebird Backcountry, a ski resort concept that opened in 2020 in Colorado. Unlike traditional ski resorts, Bluebird operated without chairlifts, groomed trails, or major permanent infrastructure, instead putting together a hike-only operation with designated skin tracks, avalanche-controlled terrain, and ski patrol support. However, despite a much easier environmental process than a traditional ski resort and strong community interest, Bluebird Backcountry struggled financially. For many people, it was hard to justify paying to earn their turns when they could just do the same for free in the true backcountry, and after three seasons of operation, Bluebird Backcountry announced its closure in 2023.

A few proposed resorts in the late 20th century, such as Lake Catamount near Steamboat, CO (pictured above), fell short of coming to reality.

Part 8: “Non-Resorts” That Have Opened Since 1981

But while large-scale ski resort development has been rare since 1981, some smaller ski areas have opened successfully during this period. These areas typically differ from large destination resorts in their scale, target audience, and business models. They focus on serving local or regional communities rather than attracting national or international visitors—which, as we mentioned earlier, would be an absolutely astronomical financial undertaking at this point. While most of these resorts have been smaller, local hills, four of them especially stand out to us:

Southwest Colorado’s Silverton Mountain, which opened in 2001, succeeded by catering exclusively to expert skiers and backcountry enthusiasts. With just one chairlift and a guided-access model for most of the season, Silverton kept costs low while avoiding the regulatory and financial hurdles that have plagued larger projects.

Silverton’s business model also allowed it to avoid many of the economic and environmental pitfalls that might have doomed a traditional destination project. By keeping infrastructure minimal, the resort’s development costs were significantly lower than traditional ski areas. Additionally, its remote location in southern Colorado meant it was not competing directly with larger ski resorts for casual skiers. Instead, it carved out a niche for expert skiers seeking a raw, ungroomed experience, a market that was underserved at the time. Without large-scale road expansions, real estate developments, or major lift installations, Silverton was able to bypass some of the environmental battles that stopped other resort projects.

Another success story is Mount Shasta Ski Park, which opened in California in 1985. Unlike many failed projects, its development was brought about by a bittersweet circumstance: an older ski area had previously operated on Mount Shasta before being destroyed by an avalanche in the 1970s. While the ski slopes themselves would be developed in a new location, the historical presence of a resort in the vicinity allowed developers to build on an existing foundation rather than starting from scratch, significantly reducing infrastructure costs and regulatory barriers. The resort’s mid-sized, regional focus helped it avoid the financial risks of a full-scale destination resort. Additionally, strong community support played a role—locals had lost their original ski area and were eager for a replacement, making the project more politically viable.

Mount Bohemia was another minimalist ski resort that was able to overcome the odds to open in the early 2000s. Like Silverton, this Michigan resort focused on delivering a raw, backcountry-style skiing experience, only installing two lifts and catering specifically to advanced skiers and riders looking for steep, ungroomed terrain. Along with operating on private land, this helped it avoid many of the environmental and financial challenges that have plagued other new resort proposals.

Finally, we want to cover what was probably the last serious attempt to build a true independent destination ski area that actually made it to reality, though whether it truly succeeded is heavily up for debate. Idaho’s Tamarack Resort opened in 2004, marking probably the most ambitious ski resort development since the 1980s. The resort cleared regulatory hurdles largely by building on state-owned land rather than federal land, and it debuted with just over 1000 acres, making it bigger than most local hills, though still smaller than most destination resorts. In addition, the resort had an extensive base village planned out.

However, Tamarack may have bitten off more than it could chew. Financial difficulties led to bankruptcy in early 2008 forcing the resort to shut down entirely in 2009. When it reopened the following year, a bank foreclosed on one of its chairlifts, dramatically reducing its skiable terrain. Though Tamarack eventually replaced this lift and completed its base plaza years later, and Tamarack continues to tout ambitious expansion plans, its rocky financial history underscores why so few developers are eager to enter this space.

Lastly, a handful of truly high-end resorts that have opened since the 1980s—but you can’t go to them. The first major example of this model was Yellowstone Club in Montana, which opened in the late 1990s as the first true private ski resort in the U.S. Despite financial problems in the late 2000s, it still operates today. More recently, Wasatch Peaks Ranch in Utah, which first opened in 2021, has followed a similar approach, although it has faced legal battles from local residents. Beyond fully private resorts, exclusive snowcat-accessed operations have emerged as a high-end alternative to traditional ski areas. Operations like Eleven Experience’s Irwin Guides and Park City Powder Cats offer guided skiing on private land, providing a backcountry-style experience at an ultra-high price point without the need for costly lift infrastructure.

A few select resorts (including Tamarack, Idaho, pictured above) have been able to open in recent years, but they either serve specific niches, or have had shaky financial paths.

Final Thoughts

So a significant array of factors have kept any truly meaningful new resorts from making their way to reality in the United States over the past four decades. Sure, a few new areas have opened, but they’ve all been incredibly niche, locally-oriented, or not open to the public. The ski scene has still seen incredible improvements over the past four decades, with skiable terrain areas, resort infrastructure, and other creature comforts all experiencing substantial improvements in that timeframe. However, it seems pretty clear that the era of new resort mega development is over, and from economic, environmental, and competitive perspectives, it doesn’t seem like that’s likely to change any time soon.