The Telluride Ski Patrol’s decision to strike on Saturday, Dec. 27, forcing the closure of one of Colorado’s most storied ski resorts, represents far more than a labor dispute (Herald, Dec. 24). It’s a flashpoint in long-simmering tensions between workers seeking dignity and an owner seemingly determined to prove a point, regardless of the cost.
Labor organizing in ski country is not new. The Telluride Professional Ski Patrol Association (see tpspa.org) unionized in 2015, and patrollers across the Rocky Mountain region have increasingly turned to collective bargaining. Last year, Park City Mountain Resort in Utah experienced a nearly two-week strike that ended when Vail Resorts acceded to demands, including a $2-per-hour base pay increase. Ski areas, long insulated from such conflicts, are now confronting what other industries have faced for decades.
This year’s confrontation comes against a harsh backdrop. A lack of snow has already dampened the holiday season, with Purgatory having delayed its opening and Telluride opening just 20 of its 149 trails. For many young people, becoming a ski patroller remains a cherished aspiration. But that dream is increasingly out of reach in Durango and Telluride, where median home prices are $750,000 and $3.7 million, respectively, and the cost of living is prohibitive. The “ski bum” lifestyle is becoming a thing of the past, squeezed by rising housing costs, low wages, and the lack of stable, benefited work (Herald, Dec. 26).
Running a ski resort is challenging, and those challenges are intensifying. Trump-era immigration policies have made seasonal staffing harder, while international tourism has declined as affluent travelers choose other destinations. Housing remains scarce, and the weather must cooperate – which it hasn’t this year (Herald, Dec. 26). These pressures make it puzzling that an owner would risk losing the professional workforce that keeps operations running safely and legally.
The decision to strike was not made lightly. Union president Graham Hoffman described himself as “deeply troubled” by the situation and aware of its impact on the community. The patrol worked without a contract to prepare the mountain for a targeted Dec. 6 opening. The most recent negotiations ran from Nov. 25 to Dec. 21. On Dec. 21, the patrol submitted an offer seeking higher base wages and special skills incentives, with starting pay at $24.50 per hour and an average wage of $34 across the team. The company responded by resubmitting its Dec. 9 offer, which 99% of patrol members had already rejected.
Over seven months of bargaining, the union has demonstrated considerable flexibility and good faith. In the last three weeks, the patrol made approximately $220,000 in concessions: $120,000 from dropping health care benefits, $15,400 from eliminating an expanded gear stipend, and $84,000 from reducing wage demands.
The company has moved $0. The two sides are now separated by just $64,000 over a 3-year contract – a negligible sum for the owner, but meaningful for retaining experienced patrollers. The union has surrendered health insurance – a bitter irony for professionals who provide medical care – and is simply asking the company to meet them halfway to repair a broken wage structure.
The patrol’s requests are reasonable. They have moved significantly from their original ask, placing themselves in the middle of the industry pay scale. Ski patrollers must master ski-area safety, emergency medical response, explosive-based avalanche control, and high-angle rescue on one of North America’s most technically complex mountains. There is pride in this profession – in helping people and saving lives. For seasonal positions lasting just four to five months, a living wage matters.
According to The Denver Post on Dec. 24, resort spokesperson Nancy Clark claimed that patrollers launched “a devastating attack on the community.” This statement is an affront to the professionals who work for Telluride Ski & Golf to fulfill obligations under its lease with the U.S. Forest Service. These aren’t volunteers; they are trained professionals providing essential services without which the ski area cannot legally operate.
This closure was avoidable. The consequences extend far beyond Telluride: holiday vacations were canceled, local businesses lost sales, and workers across the region lost income during what is typically the strongest season. One day of closure has likely already exceeded the remaining cost of the patrol’s contract demands. That is not sound business judgment. It is stubbornness masquerading as principle — cutting off one’s nose to spite one’s face — and everyone, especially the owner, pays the price.
