America's Best Small Ski Towns

Crested Butte, Colorado

Set among the endless snowfields and working cattle ranches of the Elk Mountains, “The Butte,” as residents call it, started as a rough-and-tumble coal-mining camp in the late 19th century. Coal gave way to ski resorts in the 1960’s, but this headstrong community held tight to its saloons and false-front stores, eschewing development in favor of Historic District status. Good move: stately Victorian houses and antique streetlights still line the town’s 37 blocks, and a proud tradition of locally owned businesses continues.

Crested Butte, Colorado

In Town: “The town council won’t allow any chain restaurants,” says Craig Maestro, co-owner of the familial Izzy’s café, which dishes out fresh bagels, along with advice on where to find the best snow. “Uniqueness counts here.” So instead of Starbucks, beloved roaster Camp 4 Coffee (breakfast for two $20) pours scruffy mountaineers their morning cup in a former coal shed plastered with vintage license plates.

Down the street, a number of petite boutiques like accessories store Lavish and Cookworks, which sells high-end kitchen accoutrements, have also put down roots. Hungry skiers, meanwhile, can take their pick from among the town’s atmospheric eateries. In addition to Izzy’s, there’s the Secret Stash, known for its delicious thin-crust pizza. At Soupçon (dinner for two $160), chef Jason Vernon—a former New Yorker—serves elegant dishes like braised rabbit with wild cherries in a restored 1891 back-alley miner’s cabin.

Crested Butte, Colorado

On the Slopes: The Elk Mountains remain the region’s backbone, and Crested Butte (lift ticket $82) is legendary for its steep and rugged terrain. On powder days, dreadlocked waitresses and tattooed chefs make a point of lining up for the first lift, but those staying at one of the posh slopeside inns, such as the Crested Butte Retreat (doubles from $235), also have a chance to make fresh tracks.

The new owners of Crested Butte mountain, who hope to add acres of trails for intermediate skiers (and hotels to lodge them), make some protective natives bristle, but if history is any indication, the Butte won’t let the glitz of other Colorado ski resorts creep over Kebler Pass.

Waitsfield and Warren, Vermont

The isolation and rugged beauty of Vermont’s Mad River Valley breeds a particular kind of character: practical, communitarian, apt to value substance over flash, and always very resourceful. They’re values shared by both the native valley folk and the countercultural-minded outsiders who have flocked to the area since the 1960’s. Many of these transplants have found self-expression in crafts, turning the twin towns of Waitsfield and Warren into hubs for artisans.

Waitsfield and Warren, Vermont

In Town: At Waitsfield Pottery, Ulrike Tessmer is celebrating the 20th anniversary of her Main Street shop, where visitors can watch as she throws and fires her sturdy, traditional stoneware, a trade she learned in Hamburg. Nearby, at the Mad River Glass Gallery, proprietors David and Melanie Leppla twirl hot glass into fantastical shapes in their basement workshop, visible from the ground-floor showroom where their finished bowls, vases, and objets d’art are sold. Around these parts, even the dining is artisanal: American Flatbread (dinner for two $30) dishes out wood-fired pizzas made exclusively from regional, organic ingredients, and the new Green Cup Café (lunch for two $30), known for its house-made pastries, is similarly locavore in its approach.

Waitsfield and Warren, Vermont

Down the road in Warren, a posse of area artists and architects joined together to create the Pitcher Inn (doubles from $425), whose rather austere modern colonial exterior hides a collection of 11 rooms, each playfully riffing on a pastoral theme. The Mountain Room, for instance, is a mock fire-lookout cabin, complete with a trompe l’oeil vista of the Green Mountains. Back in Waitsfield, the Inn at the Round Barn Farm (doubles from $165) offers a more traditional take on the New England inn: 12 simple rooms on a 19th-century dairy farm.

Waitsfield and Warren, Vermont

On the Slopes: Waitsfield and Warren’s down-to-earth ethos extends to the local ski mountains. Mad River Glen (lift ticket $60) is one of the last of the old-school resorts, a place where runs go ungroomed and innovations like snowboarding and high-speed chairlifts remain unwelcome. Last year the mountain finally retired its 59-year-old single-passenger lift—only to replace it with a new one.

If you want more polish, you can always head 15 minutes down the road to Sugarbush (lift ticket $75), which just finished a $60 million upgrade.

Bend, Oregon

Lying on the dry side of the Cascades, Bend has the best of all worlds: it’s well-watered by the Deschutes River but avoids the coastal drizzle; bluebird skies are the norm. Come wintertime, that means plenty of snow atop nearby Mount Bachelor—and plenty of sunshine. Factor in 2 million acres of adjacent national forest, and it’s no wonder Bend consistently ranks as one of America’s favorite multisport adventure towns. Fortunately, though the city has quadrupled in population over the past 20 years (an estimated 70,000 people live here now), its 1920’s core—a district of Craftsman and other kit-built bungalows abutting a gorgeous riverfront park—remains charmingly intact.

In Town: Bend’s growth has led to a flourishing culinary scene: an impressive number of talented chefs are among the new arrivals. “It’s phenomenal how many restaurants there are for a city this size,” says Gavin McMichael, chef-owner of Blacksmith (dinner for two $140). McMichael, who worked in the kitchen of Southwest cuisine pioneer Stephen Pyles before moving to Bend in 2001, adds Mexican influences to a foundation of American frontier-style cooking: his “rancher’s rib eye” is marinated for 24 hours in a barbecue rub and served with a wild-mushroom–pinto-bean ragoût. For breakfast, McMichael heads to the Sparrow Bakery (breakfast for two $25), a tiny café with a passionate following for its smoked-sea-salt bagels and its trademark “ocean rolls” (like a cinnamon roll, but with a cardamom kick). This being Oregon, the locals are also mad about beer; no fewer than five brewpubs serve up an innumerable variety of local drafts. Some of the most creative ones flow at McMenamin’s Old St. Francis (doubles from $104), a former parochial school reimagined as a quirky pub and a movie theater offering at-your-seat drinks and dinner service. The 19 rooms and four cottages at the attached hotel are personalized with photos, memorabilia, and even student artwork from the building’s previous incarnation.

On the Slopes: Of course, around here you don’t want to stay indoors too long. Nearly 3,700 acres of terrain surround the treeless, conical summit of Mount Bachelor (lift ticket $55). You can also trek over to the nearby Oregon Trail of Dreams (one-hour trips $75), where musher Jerry Scdoris leads daily dog-sledding excursions.

Victor, Driggs, and Tetonia, Idaho

The transformation of Jackson Hole from a fur trappers’ refuge into one of the world’s wealthiest enclaves has seen a concurrent exodus of nonmillionaires 25 miles across the Idaho border into the Teton Valley, home to the tiny towns of Victor, Driggs, and Tetonia. Here, on the gentle western slopes of the Teton Mountains, agriculture remains an economic mainstay, and life still moves at a tractor’s pace. Driggs resident Andrea Swedberg, who moved here 11 years ago, has been observing the changes. “Even though I keep seeing more and more people I don’t know, the valley still feels like a small town,” she says.

In Town: Small it may be, but the area certainly doesn’t lack sophistication. These days you can get an artisanal cheese platter at Swedberg’s newly opened Forage restaurant (dinner for two $50), and a heavenly duck breast–and-scallop dinner at the Sun Dog Deli and Café (dinner for two $80). In Tetonia, meanwhile, you can shack up like a billionaire at the Teton Ridge Ranch (doubles from $690), which owner (and Microsoft cofounder) Paul Allen bought in 1993. In true Silicon Valley–goes–Wild West fashion, his 4,000-acre private spread, with a 45-horse stable, has only seven guest rooms.

On the Slopes: Despite all the development, Teton Valley’s main draw is what it’s always been: stunning mountains and miles and miles of wilderness. Just out back lies the Grand Teton National Park, part of the 20 million–acre Greater Yellowstone Ecosystem. The Hole Hiking Experience (six-hour tours $125) takes people on interpretive snowshoe and cross-country-skiing tours through the park’s fir forests and alpine meadows. As for downhill skiing, 12 miles east of Driggs lies the uncrowded Grand Targhee Resort (lift ticket $59), known for its mellow clientele, broad groomed runs, and views of the shark-fin Grand Teton peak.

Truckee, California

After the 1960 Winter Olympics in Squaw Valley, the Lake Tahoe region became synonymous with the stirrup pants–and–cheese fondue après-ski high life. But the glamour—and the high prices—never quite made it to the little town of Truckee, a historic logging and railway hub just 15 miles away. A big set of railroad tracks cuts the main street off from the otherwise lovely Truckee River, and hanging wires mar the beauty of the 19th-century frontier-style façades, but there’s an undeniable rough-hewn charm to the place.

In Town: Check out the old-timey plank construction of the city’s most venerable establishment, the Truckee Hotel. The 100-year-old hotel doesn’t just evoke the Old West; it is the Old West. Rather than bunk there (rooms are small), stop in for a bite at the ground-floor restaurant, Moody’s Bistro (dinner for two $120), where the ever-changing menu emphasizes fresh, locally grown, and organic ingredients, served up in dishes with hearty names like “big ass pork platter.” Time’s not standing still in Truckee, though. Just witness the two-year-old Cedar House Sport Hotel (doubles from $150), a sleekly minimalist eco-lodge that really is made of cedar, all of it sourced in an environmentally friendly way. Proprietor Patricia Baird attributes Truckee’s growing appeal to the town’s solid fundamentals: easy access off Interstate 80 and three major ski resorts within city limits—Squaw Valley, Alpine Meadows, and Northstar Tahoe.

On the Slopes: While sprawling Squaw Valley (lift ticket $79), famous for its experts-only runs, has long cornered the market on celebrity-driven fabulosity, Northstar Tahoe (lift ticket $74) is making a serious play for its turf, with a Ritz-Carlton and a Hyatt Residence Club scheduled to open there in the coming year. As a small operator, Baird says she welcomes the big boys. “I don’t have the ability to market the destination the way they do,” she says. “They’re going to put Truckee on the map.”