All photos by Lee Klopf
The Sangre de Cristo mountains of Northern New Mexico are alive with glowing snow and vibrant trees of many types, at all times of the year. Anyone who has visited New Mexico understands its true nickname as “the Land of Enchantment.” Being a native from there myself, I have come to understand that New Mexico evokes a sense of mystery and adventure for those who venture into its rugged and sacred mountainous regions throughout the state.
Skiing is to Santa Fe what candles are to romance. If Taos is a martini, then Santa Fe is a Mojito. The aggressive muddling of mint, sugar, and lime demonstrate that anyway you slice it you have to be dedicated to ski in New Mexico, just as you need to be ready for a scowl from the bartender when ordering that famous rum cocktail. Taos is a solid three hour commute from New Mexico’s only international airport in Albuquerque. Ski Santa Fe, although only 16 miles from the heart of downtown Santa Fe (and thus an hour _ from Albuquerque), it is often overlooked for its northerly neighbor, Taos. With one of the highest lifts in the country (12,080 feet top elevation), the scarce oxygen contributes to its sacred, lonely quality.
Santa Fe has long held a reputation of a “frontier town,” hosting the likes of Billy the Kid and, luckily for skiers, original ski legends who first thought to bring skiing to the high desert. Ski Santa Fe, originally spawned from a second-hand chairlift in Glenwood Springs that was run by the late Ernie Blake (founder of Taos Ski Valley), now boasts, well, it’s not the boasting type of mountain. In Santa Fe you’ll find under-the-radar skiing with quiet slopes and awesome snow quality. It’s the beauty of skiing in a place that the ski industry has left untouched—and that also happens to sit above 10,000 feet (3,000 meters) offering uncompromising snow quality.
The mid-mountain lodge, named for Aleutian Indian and local ski pioneer, Pete Totemoff, doesn’t have fancy banisters, central heating, or even a clear direction of where the bathrooms are. Instead you are at the hands of a concession stand with few choices but green chile and posole, the staples of New Mexico fare. There is a smoldering fire in the corner, leaving you and your ski gear smelling of campfire for at least a few days. The bar, located next to the all-ages concession stand, does end up having the best hot-buttered rum in town.
The trees are really, really close together in New Mexico, the sky is the bluest you’ve ever seen and the air can be cold, very cold. You’ll see skiers from every walk of life, disproving the common view that only rich white people ski. In fact, all the land surrounding any ski area in New Mexico lies on sacred ground for one of the many Indian pueblos in the area. Reading this isn’t supposed to make you say “Yes, I’ll flock to Santa Fe and spend all my money there.” It’s here to let you know that Santa Fe is a special place worth checking out for a refresher course on soul skiing.
find out more at Skisantafe.com
