Last month, at the end of a particularly cold midweek afternoon—with visibility declining and snowfall increasing—I hopped off the Triple 88 chairlift, one of two main lifts at the Pomerelle Mountain Resort in Albion, Idaho, and immediately headed to the left, where a series of long blue runs leads back down the mountain through an idyllic, tree-lined setting. Between the lunch-hour timing and the increasingly prickly weather, I somehow managed to be the only skier on the Fence Line run, which hugs the outer limits of the resort, then snakes down through the aforementioned trees and gracefully ends at the lift. Without the pressure of other people, I was able to really let loose, alternating between large, full-slope S-turns and revving my speed higher than I normally do. It was the kind of run that reminds you why you fell in love with skiing in the first place: that giddy sense of flying coupled with the thrill of doing something that feels just a little bit risky. 

After a handful of rides hopping between Fence Line and its neighboring run—and capping off a full half-day of skiing—I was too cold to continue, so I glided over to the lodge and chattered my way in, running into Ski Idaho publicist and lifelong skier Tony Harrison, who was in charge of the week’s three-resort tour. I was probably the most cautious skier in the group (and least experienced, having picked up the sport in my early 30s), and Harrison had ridden the slopes with me all morning before I released him to the more challenging parts of the mountain. As soon as I saw him, I was gushing about what a great afternoon I had, how it felt like I had to trails all to myself, and how the snow, even if it was below usual standards, far eclipsed the ice I’d been scraping down back home all season. 

“Welcome to skiing in Idaho,” Harrison said with a smile. 

The end of a bluebird day at Idaho’s Kelly Canyon Resort.

Photos by Tony Harrison 

Seattle magazine’s editor in chief at Kelly Canyon.

Photos by Tony Harrison 

If you participate in snow sports, you’ve probably spent much of the season lamenting a lack of the white stuff. According to On The Snow, Washington State’s snowpack levels are currently at 40% of the normal level. In short, it’s been a rough season, and not just locally—precipitation has been down across the entire western United States. For some places, this meant delayed resort openings and abysmal conditions. In Idaho, although snow levels were down, they still outpaced western Washington. “In this case, it pays to be the best of the worst,” Harrison joked at one point on our trip. 

Ski Idaho took us to three resorts: two in the Spud State and one just across the border in Wyoming. Starting in Idaho Falls (a direct Alaska Airlines flight from Sea-Tac takes a little under two hours), we kicked off the trip at Kelly Canyon Resort, which sits about 30 miles northeast in Ririe. It was a Tuesday, and when we rolled into the parking lot, there were less than two dozen cars, most of which seemed to belong to staff, because the mountain was empty. And it was glorious. Under the cloudless expanse of sunny bluebird day, we zipped around, enjoying the uncrowded, mellow groomers. Kelly Canyon is a family-friendly resort—most weekends see an upwards of 1,800 kids taking lessons—with 51 runs, approximately 80% of which are blue and green (beginner and intermediate). It’s great for new skiers and families, and, according to Nate Hugentobler, Kelly Canyon’s guest services and ski school director, a lot of people swing in after work to get some laps in before heading home. 

The groomers at Kelly Canyon provide riding opportunities—whether on skies or snowboards—for all ages and abilities.

Photo by Gary Peterson

Much like Pomerelle, Kelly Canyon has an intimate, guest-centric vibe. Its small lodge serves casual cafeteria favorites (burgers, grilled cheese, fries), and passes are still printed and attached to your ski coat with a red zip tie. There’s a layer of nostalgia here that makes you feel like you’re involved in a community and not just another credit-card swipe for a large conglomerate. Part of that comes from independent ownership—there’s no luxury lodging or five-star restaurant, but the prices are accessible ($45-$89 for a full-day adult lift ticket) and the setting is relaxed. There’s something really special about these small resorts, which are sadly disappearing as they become more expensive to maintain and run—and struggle to compete with their behemoth competitors—each season. 

After a soak in nearby Heise Hot Springs we headed another hour east to Bronze Buffalo Ranch in Victor, which would serve as our base while we skied Grand Targhee Resort. Located in Alta, Wyoming , Grand Targhee is on the western edge of the Teton Range; with more than 500 inches of snow annually, it’s a safe bet you’ll be playing in powder on most visits. For someone who skied on ice and crud just a couple weeks before, the powder was like a release: I always get giggly as I sail through it with the sensation of near-weightlessness, and this was no exception. 

Grand Targhee is much larger than Pomerelle or Kelly Canyon, with a slicker, more corporate feel. Six lifts, 2,602 acres, and more than 90 runs (10% beginner, 45% intermediate, 30% advanced, and 15% expert) make it a good option for mix-ability groups. I found ways to push myself by experimenting with steeper terrain than I’m used to—without holding back everyone else on the trip. When I became tired, I was more than happy to opt over to a series of fun and breezy blues. Dreamweaver and Snowdancer were on repeat; these long runs were the perfect balance between challenge and cruise. 

Sitting on the western edge of the Grand Tetons, Grand Targhee Resort boats more than 500 inches of annual snowfall.

Photo courtesy of Ski Idaho 

Pomerelle was our last stop of the trip. The mountain isn’t known for intense vertical or incredibly technical runs. People come here for the atmosphere. The resort has been family-owned for decades, and in a story first reported by Alex Silgalis and Jaime Pirozzi of Local Freshies (both of whom were on our trip), it was announced that the Anderson family had sold the property to Pomerelle’s mountain manager Zack Alexander and his wife, Crystal. “Zack is the grandson of longtime and recently retired director of snow sports instruction, Barry Whiting,” notes Ski Idaho’s Harrison, “so it’s pretty much like keeping it in the family.”

Pomerelle Resort is a family-run operation with a charming lodge and kid-friendly approach.

Photo courtesy of Idaho Tourism 

Moving forward, the Alexanders, who have four children, want Pomerelle to remain as accessible as possible, both in price (pre-purchased full-day tickets are just $55) and atmosphere. The couple has a lifelong love of skiing and plans to continue spreading the sport’s joy with as many people as they can. Lunchtime at the resort is a testament to this approach: a look around the packed lodge revealed groups of children laughing over hot chocolate, post-slope clusters of friends sharing baskets of hot French fries, and families warming up near the wood stove. No $25 cocktails, designer coats, or Instagram photoshoots in sight. I didn’t grow up skiing, but this convivial lodge scene is what I imagine it was like at many mountains in the ’90s—a much simpler time, when more people could afford a day on the slopes amid a relaxed, welcoming vibe grounded in a love for snow sports, not massive profits.