Initial Impressions: Washington State Resorts
A view of Mount Shuksan from Mount Baker Ski Area on a bluebird day.
We recently road tripped around the Pacific Northwest, hitting major resorts in Washington and Oregon. We started at Mount Hood and visited the three major ski areas there (see our writeup here). From there, we made our way up to the Seattle area, where we visited Crystal, Stevens Pass, Summit at Snoqualmie, and Alpental. We also made it up to Mount Baker at the northern tip of the state. Finally, we visited Oregon’s Mount Bachelor on our way back to Tahoe.
Over the next several days, we’ll be sharing our thoughts on these areas. Here are our initial impressions on the five (or four, depending on how you categorize Summit at Snoqualmie and Alpental) Washington state ski resorts we visited.
Crystal
Crystal is the largest resort in Washington and, in our view, offered the most well-rounded experience of the resorts we visited.
Despite a moderate vertical drop, we found lots of different terrain within Crystal’s elevation difference. Top-to-bottom runs typically started in bowls and ended as defined tree runs. Only a few mellower areas contained wholly below-treeline terrain.
Beginner and intermediate terrain mainly existed in pods. The Forest Queen area and lower half of the Rainier lift were really the only resort areas with multiple intermediate options. The upper mountain was pretty much advanced bowl terrain—the few intermediate trails through these areas were mostly just cutout road or groom tracks. The Northway and High Campbell areas had no intermediate terrain. The mountain boasted just one upper-mountain green run off the Forest Queen lift—this was better than zero, but outside of learning areas, there were limited beginner offerings here.
Crystal’s advanced and expert terrain really stood out to us. Steep, gnarly pitches made up considerable portions of the resort and hosted obstacles such as rocks, cliffs, and trees. Many of the toughest runs were directly lappable, although some required traversing or long runouts. The most formidable lines we sampled, including the truly extreme Brain Damage couloir, required hiking to get to.
While we didn’t exactly take crowds at face value during our trip due to COVID, design flaws on the base-to-summit Rainier Gondola posed obvious capacity issues. For some reason, the cabins were very widely spaced, with only 36 cabins along the whole lift line. In addition, although it was quite comfortable onboard, the lift was slower than most other high-speed lifts. Both of these circumstances resulted in slower throughput than we expected. We heard from locals that lines on weekends could get up to 40 minutes long.
Luckily, a less direct but high-speed route along the Chinook and Rainier chairlifts provided the same top-to-bottom access as the gondola. Most other lifts were high capacity, with the exception of the advanced/experts-only Chair 6 and Northway lifts. While the low capacity presumably helped preserve the snow, we had to wait in long lines a few times.
During our mornings at Crystal, we lucked out with light, excellent powder. Temperatures were on the low side when we visited, and during a typical storm, we might have seen heavier accumulation. However, by the afternoons, snow quality had deteriorated and become heavier. It rained a few days before our visit, and snow below the top layer was either crusty or icy. On some extreme terrain, we found ice debris, presumably from avalanche-bombed snow that had melted and refrozen. In lower-mountain areas, the snow was consistently heavy and hard to turn through. We occasionally found ourselves on flat, catwalky trails; given the snow conditions, it was tough to gain speed on these.
From its summit, Crystal offered lines of sight to several nearby mountains, including the striking Mt. Rainier. However, it was too cloudy to see these peaks most of the time. We found some Crystal areas, such as Northway and High Campbell, to feel isolated, while others felt somewhat built-up. That being said, Crystal’s on-mountain facilities, which included two restaurants and a bar beneath the gondola summit station, appeared more than adequate for break-goers.
At Crystal, upper mountain areas like these generally consisted of bowls and filtered into trees.
Stevens Pass
Stevens Pass was a short but sweet mountain. The resort’s vertical drop fell short of 2,000 feet, but we found some quite interesting terrain within that footprint. Much of the terrain existed across front-facing areas, but a sizable back side could be accessed via multiple lift routes. It took two lifts to get to the top, making the mountain feel taller than it really was. Imposing ridges across the resort helped with that too.
From top-to-bottom, each lift route comprised one longer lower-mountain chair and another shorter upper-mountain chair. One major thing we got tripped up on: the short, frontside Double Diamond and backside Southern Crossing were the same lift. What looked like it could be a mid-station was actually the top, and failing to get off meant a grueling download to the bottom and ride back up.
None of the runs at Stevens were particularly long. However, several were really challenging. Some runs required navigating steep drop-ins or precipitous pitches. Others maintained formidable fall lines from top to bottom, resulting in some decently tiring terrain. Advanced terrain comprised bowls, glades, and defined tree runs.
Stevens’ beginner and intermediate terrain felt decent but not out of the ordinary. We found intermediate trails everywhere except in some upper-mountain areas, but the ones we tried existed across less diverse terrain than advanced runs. Beginner terrain really only seemed to exist off the Hogsback lift, and some of it was flat and catwalky—not exactly the most fun experience for those learning.
For the most part, the snow at Stevens Pass was wet on top and crusty on the bottom. We found some expert hike-to terrain at the top of 7th Heaven that boasted light, untouched powder stashes. During our first day, the resort had some of the worst fog we’d seen anywhere, with severely low visibility across the resort. Our second day was significantly better in this regard.
At times during our visit, it felt like the mountain was too small to handle the skier demand. Three high-speed quads from the base helped move crowds efficiently, but one of them—Hogsback—always had the longest lines (presumably because it provided the easiest access to the back side). During the weekend, lines were long across all three of these lifts. There were very few lines at the short, upper-mountain 7th Heaven and Double Diamond lifts, but that seemed to do more with the difficulty of lapping these chairs than anything else.
The fourth major base lift, the Kehr’s double, tended to attract fewer crowds than the others during our visit—this was perhaps due to the fact that it took a tough-to-grab rope tow to get there from the other lifts. Despite its slower speed, we found it provided the most direct access to backside terrain (paired with a short successive ride up the Double Diamond lift) and offered more efficient access to enjoyable terrain during busy times.
Stevens didn’t have any on-site lodging, and getting a convenient parking spot meant arriving early in the morning due to limited upper-lot capacity. Overflow parking was incredibly inconvenient, with the lots about 5 miles down the mountain pass from the resort along a considerable gradient. We saw some locals return to an overflow lot through a backcountry trail, but we never found the route ourselves.
An especially foggy lift ride at Stevens.
Summit at Snoqualmie
While Summit at Snoqualmie and Alpental are technically part of the same resort, the two are separate ski areas separated by a few miles. Snoqualmie is the family-oriented mountain of the two. Both resorts are only an hour or so from Seattle along Interstate 90.
The first thing we noticed about Snoqualmie is that it’s more of a hill than a mountain. The vertical drop is absurdly short and on par with resorts in much flatter places. Nothing around the resort really made us go “wow.” With just about everyone from Seattle at the mountain and I-90 background noise just about everywhere, the resort felt commercialized.
To give the resort some credit, its Summit East area offered a longer vertical drop and more isolated terrain than the more popular Summit Central and West areas. However, this area was only open on weekends. Additionally, Snoqualmie was a leader when it came to bunny hill terrain—we counted at least four of them during our visit there.
Lifts at Snoqualmie were mixed, with two high-speed lifts in the Central area but slow, fixed grip lifts everywhere else. But given the resort’s short footprint, none of the lift rides we took were particularly long. Multiple chairlifts lacked safety bars—a surprising omission from a resort that caters so much towards families.
Even moreso than other Washington resorts—and likely due to its low elevation—Snoqualmie contained wet, heavy snow. Some of the locals there compared it to mashed potatoes. During our visit, we found ourselves preferring the typical conditions at some East Coast resorts.
Despite its lack of vert, most lifts serviced some actual advanced pitches. Most were short, but the trails off Triple 60 were moderate and a few off East Peak were actually relatively lengthy. A few short areas contained terrain we would classify as expert.
While those booking a true vacation here would likely be disappointed, we found the Summit at Snoqualmie a solid learning area and a more-than-decent option as a short day trip from Seattle.
A top-to-bottom ride at Snoqualmie along the Triple 60 chair. Trails in this area were short but steep.
Alpental
While Summit at Snoqualmie and Alpental are technically part of the same resort, the two are separate ski areas separated by a few miles. Alpental is the expert-oriented mountain of the two. Both resorts are only an hour or so from Seattle along Interstate 90.
Contrary to Snoqualmie’s mellow slopes, we found Alpental’s terrain quite challenging. Only a handful of greens and blues were present, and the lifts servicing much of this easier terrain weren’t running on weekdays.
The resort featured solidly technical runs, especially the cliffs, jumps, and chutes off the Edelweiss double chair. We found the most formidable terrain on the back side of Edelweiss, especially in the Back Bowls, which boasted steep fall lines and required a pass from ski patrol before entering. All the back side lines we explored started from the tantalizingly steep International trail.
While it wasn’t quite as bad as Snoqualmie’s, Alpental’s snow was quite heavy and tiring. It took a lot of effort to turn, especially in lower mountain areas, where weirdly crusty snow existed underneath the base. Some avalanche-blown snow had turned into frozen debris on expert terrain. Visibility was tough during parts of our visit as well, with thick fog rolling into the resort.
As a compact resort, we found Alpental pretty easy to navigate. There were really only two main lifts—the high-speed Armstrong Express, and the Edelweiss double—and all the runs filtered back into one of them (although it took some traversing to get back from some Back Bowl lines). Lapping the expert lines down the back side did require riding both lifts.
Alpental was small and generally unsuitable for less-experienced guests. But for an hour’s drive from Seattle, the mountain offered an awesome variety of terrain and challenge.
Some of the incredibly technical terrain in Alpental’s Back Bowls. A layer of powder masked major avalanche debris here.
Mount Baker
Mount Baker was the only Washington resort we visited outside of the Seattle area. The resort offers no onsite lodging, and getting to the mountain required driving up an extremely difficult, sketchy access road. The nearest town, Glacier, is 30 minutes away, so those visiting Mount Baker would need to do this drive every day.
Once we got to the resort, standard procedure was to get in line for the ticket window (the resort doesn’t sell advance-purchase tickets). On our bluebird-day visit, this line was on the lengthy side—about 20 minutes long at 9:30am. However, lines for the lifts—all of which were slow but high-capacity quads—moved quickly.
Beginner and intermediate terrain at Mount Baker was limited, and barely any terrain was groomed. Conversely, the resort boasted an incredible concentration of truly extreme terrain even with a relatively short in-bounds vertical drop. The resort marked off the most formidable chutes and cliff areas as Extreme Danger Zones, with skulls and bones posted on maps and signs. Some trails required free falls, and a few lines likely won’t even be skiable until the snow fills in. Everything in these areas was fair game, so scoping lines was an absolute must. Getting to Extreme Danger Zones required crossing below a boundary rope—this was probably the only time we ever encountered a resort rope where ducking under was intended.
Despite a moderate footprint, Mount Baker was easily the most picturesque mountain we visited in the state. Astonishing vistas lined the landscapes in every direction, with Mount Baker, the peak the resort gets its name from, and Mount Shuksan, one of the most photographed mountains in the world, most prominently in view. Thanks to the lack of any establishment within 18 miles of the resort, we felt complete isolation from the outside world here.
Mount Baker’s peak season tends to come later than other North American resorts. January tends to see a mix of snow and rain, while February and March get most of the snowy accumulation, with inches an hour at times. Accumulation can reach truly absurd levels, with the resort regular seeing the most snowfall of any U.S. resort each season. During our early February visit, we enjoyed a solid layer of powder on top of a frozen, icy base.
If there’s any resort that’s directly integrated with nearby backcountry terrain, it’s Mount Baker. Visitors regularly hike out and above resort boundaries for fresh powder and ski back inbounds. However, this out-of-bounds terrain is not patrolled and is extremely avalanche prone, and multiple people have died in years past. Everyone making the trek during our visit had full avalanche gear.
Mount Baker wasn’t perfect—and it really wasn’t trying to be. But for those looking for crazy chutes, easy-to-reach backcountry, and stupidly wet late season refills, we got the sense that this resort would be really hard to beat.
A precarious chute down one of Mount Baker’s Extreme Danger Zones.
For the most part, we enjoyed the Washington resorts we visited. But conditions were certainly variable throughout the trip, with some days bringing excellent powder and others bringing rain or annoying frozen debris. And while the resorts we visited boasted impressive terrain and phenomenal challenges, we don’t imagine all vacationers will love the moderate acreage and drab, foggy weather. One unique plus: with the exception of Mount Baker, all of these resorts offer night skiing on certain days of the week.
We plan on publishing full reviews for these resorts in the coming months. Before doing so, we plan comprehensive talks with locals to ensure each review contains fully accurate content.
