This winter’s snow cover in the Western United States has reached its lowest point on record, a stark reality that portends significant challenges as spring approaches, including increased wildfire risks and diminished water resources for agriculture and aquatic ecosystems. While the long-term implications are serious, many Westerners are currently focused on a more immediate concern: the dwindling opportunities for skiing. Resorts across the region are reporting severely impacted operations. In Colorado, Arapahoe Basin has managed to open less than a third of its skiable terrain, while Washington’s Mt. Baker Ski Area was forced to cancel its annual snowboard race due to insufficient and unworkable snowpack. Further south, Oregon saw Hoodoo Ski Area and Mt. Ashland Ski Area temporarily close for weeks because of the lack of snowfall, and the NCAA ski championships were relocated from Bozeman, Montana, to Utah due to unseasonably warm winter conditions.

Faced with these unprecedented conditions, ski resorts are increasingly turning to artificial snow production, though specific details about their snowmaking capabilities remain largely undisclosed. Major ski resort conglomerates like Alterra and POWDR did not provide responses to inquiries regarding their strategies. Vail Resorts, which operates 42 ski areas globally, acknowledged that weather conditions, particularly temperature, are critical factors influencing the duration and extent of their snowmaking efforts, but declined to share specific operational data.

Steven Fassnacht, a professor specializing in snow hydrology at Colorado State University, explained that a significant expansion of snowmaking capacity for Western resorts presents considerable hurdles. Acquiring the necessary additional water rights is a complex and financially burdensome legal process, making a large-scale pivot to artificial snowmaking a difficult undertaking for many operators. Historically, Western ski resorts have relied far less on snowmaking compared to their counterparts in other regions of the United States. Data indicates that, on average, fewer than 10% of skiable acres in the West are covered by man-made snow. This contrasts sharply with the Northeast, where over 50% of skiable terrain is artificially snowed, and the Southeast and Midwest, where this figure rises to approximately 80%.

However, as the effects of climate change manifest in increasingly warmer and more unpredictable winters, the importance of snowmaking in the Western region is projected to grow. This reliance on artificial snow, in turn, introduces a complex set of environmental consequences and other challenges that the industry must confront.

The origins of snowmaking technology can be traced back to 1949, when a Connecticut ski resort owner experimented with spreading 700 pounds of ice on a single slope, which lasted for about two weeks. This initial, albeit limited, success sparked an idea among a group of engineers and former ski entrepreneurs. As described by ski historian John Fry, they ingeniously connected a 10-horsepower compressor via a garden hose to a spray-gun nozzle previously used for painting skis, creating an early form of artificial snow.

While the fundamental technology of spraying pressurized water into the air to freeze remains consistent, modern snowmaking is a sophisticated process. The primary environmental concerns associated with this technology revolve around its significant energy and water consumption. Beyond these immediate impacts, potential consequences can extend to soil degradation and exposure to chemicals. Furthermore, Indigenous communities have voiced opposition, often citing concerns about the desecration of sacred sites through wastewater discharge.

The process of generating artificial snow demands substantial energy to pressurize water and air, and to pump water to higher elevations. A study examining ten ski areas across the country revealed that snowmaking accounts for, on average, 18% of a resort’s total energy expenditure. The amount of water used is also considerable; Palisades Tahoe, for instance, utilizes between 50 and 70 million gallons of water annually for snowmaking, a volume sufficient to cover approximately 60 acres with 1.5 feet of snow, according to reports from the San Francisco Chronicle. While 70 million gallons is a significant quantity, comparable to the annual water usage of roughly 50 American families, Professor Fassnacht emphasizes that an estimated 80% of this water is returned to streams and rivers through melt and evaporation, effectively remaining within the local watershed.

Although this water is drawn from the same sources that supply cities and farms, its demand occurs at a different time of year. Ski resorts typically engage in snowmaking during the late fall and early winter, a period when agricultural and municipal water needs are generally lower, ramping up in the late spring and summer. In situations of water scarcity, ski resorts, as junior rights holders, would be required to defer to entities with senior water rights. In Colorado, for example, snowmaking constitutes a minuscule fraction, an estimated 0.05%, of the state’s annual water consumption, a stark contrast to agriculture’s demand, which accounts for around 85%.

Crucially, machine-made snow differs from natural snowfall in a fundamental way: it does not contribute to regional water supplies at the same scale. Researchers at the University of California, Berkeley, highlight that approximately 75% of the water relied upon by Western communities originates from mountain snowpack. Therefore, while artificial snow may sustain skiing activities, it does not compensate for the deficit in natural snowpack crucial for water resources. Professor Fassnacht likens snowmaking to a form of temporary storage on the mountain, rather than a permanent reduction in water system demand. He posits that the water is not truly removed from the system but merely relocated and stored elsewhere, and importantly, it does not substitute for naturally occurring snowfall.

Fassnacht’s primary concern regarding snowmaking centers on its timing – specifically, when resorts draw water from streams. If water is extracted during periods of low flow, he warns, it could have profoundly detrimental effects on aquatic life. In an effort to reduce their reliance on fresh water, some resorts, such as Big Sky in Montana, have begun to produce snow from treated wastewater. While this practice has been lauded by conservation groups as a "win-win for the health of our rivers and the resort economy," it remains a contentious issue.

The ski area in Flagstaff, Arizona, initiated the use of reclaimed wastewater for snowmaking in 2013. This involved spraying treated sewage onto a mountain that holds deep spiritual significance for local Indigenous peoples and members of thirteen Native American tribes. This practice, along with the ensuing protests, continues to be a source of ongoing contention.

Viewed holistically, snowmaking can be interpreted as an adaptation strategy to climate change. However, researchers are increasingly questioning whether it represents a maladaptation – a response that, while seemingly addressing one problem, inadvertently exacerbates climate change itself. A 2022 study published in the Journal of Sustainable Tourism concluded that the environmental impacts of snowmaking are highly dependent on a resort’s geographical location. In regions with relatively clean electricity grids and robust water security, such as Washington, the environmental footprint of snowmaking is considerably less pronounced than in states like New Mexico, Colorado, Nevada, and Wyoming, where electricity generation relies more heavily on carbon-intensive sources and water stress is more acute. Although many of these states have outlined plans to decarbonize their electricity grids in the coming decades, projections indicate that water scarcity is expected to intensify over the same period.

The researchers also underscored the significance of travel-related impacts associated with snowmaking. Their findings suggest that, on average, skiers travel only 36 miles before their transportation-related carbon dioxide emissions exceed those generated at a ski area. Consequently, if snowmaking encourages skiers to patronize more local mountains rather than undertaking long-distance travel, it could potentially result in a net positive environmental outcome.

The prognosis for the future of skiing, particularly at coastal locations and lower elevations, appears increasingly grim. Jesse Ritner, an assistant professor of history at Georgia College & State University and author of a forthcoming book on snowmaking, candidly states that "the ski industry is screwed" to a certain extent. Nevertheless, he acknowledges that snowmaking will undoubtedly become progressively more vital.

The ski industry is acutely aware of these impending challenges. In 2019, Vail Resorts invested in 421 new snow guns for its Colorado mountain, a move characterized as the "largest snowmaking expansion in North American history." Other resorts, such as Bogus Basin in Idaho, are exploring innovative techniques like snowfarming, which involves collecting and storing snow from previous seasons to deploy in the subsequent winter.

Despite these proactive measures, resorts remain vulnerable to unfavorable winter conditions. Earlier this year, Vail Resorts informed investors that significantly reduced snowfall in Western states had led to a 20% decline in visitation across its North American properties. Michael Pidwirny, an associate professor at the University of British Columbia specializing in climate change and skiing, observes that years with poor snowfall, once a rarity, are becoming more frequent and are projected to increase further. He questions the efficacy of snowmaking when temperatures become too warm to initiate the process, as it requires a "wet bulb temperature" – a measure combining air temperature and humidity – below 28 degrees Fahrenheit. Pidwirny predicts that Whistler Blackcomb, a prominent Vail-owned resort in his home province, may face conditions where one out of every two years is too compromised to support quality skiing by approximately 2050 or 2060. He suggests that resorts will inevitably need to adapt by acknowledging the reduced certainty of annual ski seasons. Ultimately, even the extensive use of snowmaking may not be sufficient to alter this trajectory.