IPOS: Magic Mountain

Watch TGR's full film In Pursuit of Soul on TGRtv now

Coming from the West, you don’t see many two seaters any more. I learned to ski in my home state of California, and my local haunts had upgraded their infrastructure years ago. With those upgrades came high-speed lifts, gondolas so roomy you could stretch out in, heated seats, and footrests. As a result, all the two-seaters had been ripped out—bygones of an archaic ski age. They were all replaced with something newer, faster, and fancier. “I like to think I’m floating down the river when I’m riding the red chair, but instead I’m going uphill,” mused Magic Mountain operations manager Matt Cote. He sees the 12-minute ride as an opportunity to disconnect and meditate—just for a blip in time. It’s a rare moment of pause in our world of hyperconnectivity and instant gratification. 

For some the ride feels like a meditation, for others it’s a break for weary legs, and for some, it’s all about connection. If it’s too slow for you, then there's some other options, but for some reason, there’s always a line at the two-seater. The resort co-owner Geoff Hatheway likes to use the time to craft tall tales for his young son, and each chairlift he weaves a new fairytale.“Everyone is so wrapped up with the idea of “can we go faster”, but never takes the time to stop to think if they should,” Cote said. When I rode the lift, I picked up on the magic, savoring the gentle ride upwards and onwards.

Even though it’s far from the alps, Magic Mountain retains its Swiss inspired charm. | Katie Lozancich photo.

But there’s more to Magic’s Red Chair that makes it special. It’s the lift shack with its peeling paint, the lines of people who fill its maze, and the folks who tirelessly work to keep the machine spinning. On the outside of the building, it has an old painted “Magic Mountain'' sign in an ornate font that is reminiscent of a medieval manuscript. The whole resort still has small traces of Swiss influence, which can be attributed to the resort’s founder Hans Thorner. Thorner moved from Switzerland to the United States in 1932, and became one of the first certified ski instructors in the country, operating schools all over New England. But teaching folks how to snowplow and french fry wasn’t his endgame. Thorner wanted to recreate a little slice of the Alps and believed that Southern Vermont had all the right ingredients to do so. On the summit of Glebe Mountain in Londonderry, Vermont, Thorner proclaimed he’d build a ski resort “more Swiss than a Swiss watch”. The slopes spilling off Glebe’s summit reminded him of miniature Swiss Valleys, and he went to work.

No trip to Magic is complete without a ride up the iconic Red Chair. | Katie Lozancich photo.

During our first day at Magic Mountain, one of the snow groomers invited me up for a sunset tour of the upper mountain. Gleefully I accepted and hitched a ride with the local legend named Brownie. It turns out we had mutual friends back in my home of Jackson, Wyoming, and instantly bonded over our shared love of powder skiing. On the ride, I asked him what he loved about his job. He thoughtfully replied, “grooming is kind of like playing in one of those zen sand gardens—except I’m drawing lines on the mountain.” Magic’s slopes were his canvas, and every day on the job rewarded him with breathtaking views of the surrounding Green Mountains. Brownie dropped me off at Sunshine Corner, which was the best spot to take in the dazzling sunset. The clouds shifted from golds to oranges, to shades of vibrant pinks. Standing there you can see why Thorner was so enamored with this little corner of Vermont and had such big dreams. How could you not want to share this with others?

Brownie in his office. Not a bad spot to work every day if you ask me. | Katie Lozancich photo.

Thorner was driven by his unique vision, and did things a bit differently from other resorts in the area. He flew ski instructors out from Switzerland to staff his ski school and even used sheep to mow the grass in the summer months. At the base of the mountain, he built a miniature Swiss Village to house the resort's many guests. Whatever Thorner was putting in his Schnitzel was working, because, for the following two decades, Magic grew and grew until it became one of the largest ski areas in Vermont. It was revered for its nightlife and New Englanders from all over flocked to its slopes.

But then Magic found itself at odds with a ski area’s greatest foe: a poor snow year. In particular, that can be the kryptonite of small ski areas that don’t have robust snow-making capabilities. In 1985, Thorner sold the resort to the neighboring Timber Ridge ski area, which eventually fell into the ownership of Bromley Ski Area, and things steadily began to unravel. They had one bad snow season after another, and the resort began to flounder under a handful of poor real estate ventures. Finally, in 1991, little Switzerland was forced to close, and the mountain fell silent.

For many small ski areas, this would be the end of the story. Magic, however, has always been different. Every time it gets knocked down, it finds a way to pull itself back up—mostly because the local community believes it's worth fighting to keep it alive.

One of those dedicated community members is Erik Tompkins, who heads the mountain’s freeride program. It’s no surprise that Erik is a coach given his zest for skiing and ability to zipper through icy moguls without breaking his form. Growing up, he had his sights set on ski and mogul racing. But that changed in 1998 when he watched a broadcast of the Winter Olympic Games in Nagano, Japan. Jonny Moseley was going for gold in the moguls, and on the second trick jump, Moseley surprised the crowd with a 360 mute grab. "That was the day I became a freerider," he laughed. Now, Erik hopes to foster the next generation of freeriders, and is hyped to be working with Magic to carry that torch onwards. His favorite part of Magic? By far the terrain, and we jumped at the chance to follow him around the mountain. There’s a lot packed into this mountain, ranging from meandering open runs to steep, fun glades. Tree skiing here is practically a religion, with acres upon acres of steep and deep glades. Catch the mountain on a good snow day, and you’ll be grinning from ear to ear.

Kerry Mara, one of the many dedicated staff at Magic Mountain. | Katie Lozancich photo.

If you need help finding your way around these parts, don’t be afraid to ask the folks at the ticket window for a few tips. They’ll gladly mark up your trail maps with a few of their favorite spots. This kind of hospitality is overflowing at Magic Mountain. The mountain lacks any sort of aggressive ego and prides itself on being a space for everyone. This inclusive energy is what keeps the mountain thriving and chugging along. It also helps that everyone contributes back to the resort. No big businessman is calling the shots from a stuffy office in downtown New York, but instead, the owner helps bump chairlifts when they’re short-staffed. Passionate locals show up every summer to volunteer for countless hours in the humid, hot sun. They’re all driven by their desire to pitch in their fair share. It’s also thanks to the many workers that gladly wear two or even three hats to keep the ship sailing. One of those employees is Kerry Mara. She’s a Jill of All Trades. For her, it’s all worth the work. Small mom-and-pop resorts offer something special, and you can’t find that same feeling in a big corporate establishment. “When you come through our door, we don’t look through you. You’re not a number, and I bet you if you come back two or three times we’re going to remember your name,” she says. That’s the difference you get from an independent ski resort.

Thorner probably didn’t think about all this when he originally set out to create Magic Mountain back in the ‘60s. His imagination ran wild: envisioning world-class ski trails, chalets that felt straight from Europe, and the best wine and dine experience in Vermont. While all those are noble sentiments, it’s not what keeps the magic alive here. It’s the people, and you can’t put a dollar amount on that. 

Learn more about Magic Mountain, Vermont

Watch TGR's full film In Pursuit of Soul on TGRtv now