Can You ( Really ) Find Queer Community in The Mountain West?

One of the worst the mountain has seen this time is headed our way with a spring wind. Without a trace of regret, thirty-mile-per-hour breezes whip across the getting at the top of Town Lift on Park City Mountain. Despite the distressing circumstances, my spirits are great. For Utah Gay Ski Week, I’m around with my best friend, and I’m getting ready for the party ride down the mountain, which celebrates the strength and unity of the gay community.

I huddle in a game next to a mountain move sign and view for rainbow flags coming off the chairlift almost an hour before the scheduled time. I’d, of course, prefer to get a dozen works in before the festival, but I refuse to chance my opportunity at skiing down the mountain with my brother gays. As the projected storm approaches, time to wait out the wind, and over half of the weights are closed. Current ranges are reaching a 25-minute plus wait time.

I notice a shiny, rainbow-bedazzled helmet—a beacon of light in the darkness—that is this hellscape of a surprise as a hint of doubt crosses my mind that the journey might have been canceled. I jump out of my bundled nest and expose myself to the secret skier under the golden hat and reflective sunglasses. It turns out they were Park City Mountain Safety patrollers who helped with the rally the day before. A small but impressive group of skiers and boarders gather around us, including skiers and snowboarders carrying large and small pleasure flags, and skiers wearing rainbow produce tops. Perhaps the dramatic activist drag queen Pattie Gonia has arrived.

I snap a quick picture with Pattie before tying a superhero-themed pleasure symbol around my neck. As a group, we begin our heritage down the mountain. The class of 30- plus journey as a group, rainbows flags flowing fantastically in the wind. As groms stop mid-hill to watch our flamboyant party whoop and holler our way down the central resort groomer with pride, I ca n’t help but smile the entire time. I’ve never experienced more gay happiness on the hill at this time, when I’m surrounded by lots of LGBTQ+ contemporaries and allies. What a sensation.

A Queer Quest West

But why, say, Utah and Idaho? almost everyone I told about my future trips to Boise, Sun Valley, and Park City responded to my request. Fair topic. The Powdery Mountains and magnificent beauty of these exquisite mountain towns in the Mountain West are unmatched. But what they lack is a loving standing for LGBTQ+ visitors and locals. Look no further than Idaho and Utah’s assault of, restrictions on and, and obvious over the last several decades. Living and traveling in these says as a homosexual person is not only terrifying but incredibly risky.

As a 30-something, Western lesbian who grew up shredding little hills in Michigan and has visited numerous big-name ski areas on one hand, I definitely could have made a more clear choice for a gay ski trip, like or. But, my vision was innovative. Instead of the well-known gay groups in the west, I wanted to see if it was possible to find LGBTQ+ picture and interact with the local gay community in cities that are n’t typically praised for this kind of variety. And I was aware that it had a chance of being discovered based on my research.

Part 1: Boise, Idaho

My wife, Courtney, and I made our own gay ski weekend in Idaho on the first of three stops on this mission. We wanted to support as many LGBTQ-owned and queer-friendly businesses as we could along the way, rather than just shredding the slopes. We heard this liberal bubble in a deep red state was flush with queer establishments, from to to. Additionally, since Courtney does n’t ski, we had more time to explore the city and experience how welcoming the community was. To be clear, visiting a ski town does n’t require ski.

I flew in a day early to ride solo at, a local mountain 45 minutes north of downtown. The ski gods gave me some light snow and some inches of fresh powder the night before. Bogus Basin had the impression that it was n’t even bogus. I instantly fell in love with the resort for its unpretentious vibe, under$ 100,$ 5 pints of PBR, cheap pizza, and minimal lift lines. It’s comparable to, if not more affordable, some of the resorts in the west. Additionally, I learned that the non-profit resort is among Idaho’s top three largest resorts in terms of acreage. Bogus Basin was truly massive. I enjoyed exploring the expansive slopes, which spanned 91 runs, and getting lost in the glades. Despite the fact that I did n’t notice any Pride flags on the mountain, I thought Bogus Basin was a welcoming place, especially given the low cost of admission.

In particular, the LGBTQ+ community faces significant obstacles to accessing and competing in snow sports, including financial constraints, a lack of representation, and systemic discrimination. C Meyer ( she/they ), a mental health therapist and one of three organizers of, says queer folks are heavily ostracized from the ski community.

” Ideal for trans people is just not of importance because they’re trying to stay alive, they’re trying to get health insurance, they’re trying, if they can, to get gender-affirming care through HRT ( hormone therapy ), or even just find a therapy service,” says Meyer. So many queer and trans people put skiing, snowboarding, and recreation on the back burner.

The volunteer-led event raises money to increase access for LGBTQIA2S+ skiers, snowboarders, youth, and adult non-profits. It also provides access to free first- time lessons from queer, trans, and BIPOC instructors, free rentals, and deeply discounted lift tickets. Pride Ride Utah, which is now in its fourth year, anticipates meeting on April 6, 2024, with over 600 participants. More than$ 11, 000 was raised forPride Ride Utah, which attracted more than 470 skiers and snowboarders than there were in 2022. Similar community- based organizations like and make it possible for more queer youth and adults to access snow sports and connect.

After skipping, I picked up Courtney at the airport, which is a 10-minute drive from downtown Boise. Before heading for the nearby nearby Hyde Park neighborhood, we take a quick hike and a beer at the queer-friendly taproom. Our night ends at, a lesbian- owned oyster and cocktail spot in downtown Boise. The fact that this place had a plant-adorned vibe was dead giveaway that this place was our kind of place: super gay. The gender fluidity of its patrons, and hand- crocheted coasters were all in. Needless to say, we were obsessed with this cozy, romantic queer bar.

Part 2: Sun Valley, Idaho

We made it to Sun Valley, Idaho as our next destination on this queer ski mission. From Boise to our new home base in Boise, we took a three-hour road trip. We opted for this hotel in downtown Ketchum for its central location between Sun Valley Resort and the base of the mountain. Additionally, we could rent my ski equipment and fat tire bikes directly from the gear shop on-site.

Sun Valley was pleasantly sunny, to our surprise. No rainbows ( or Pride flags ), though. Before heading out on fat tire bikes on the, we snagged a vegan sandwich from the deli at. The over 20-mile riverside trail offers stunning views of the Smoky Mountains, Pioneer Mountains, and Bald Mountain and runs parallel to the Big Wood River. It’s a great excursion for friends, families and couples who want to experience winter adventure off the mountain. After fat tire biking, we headed to their enormous pool to soak in. The resort provides day passes to the spa, pool, and hot tub. No ski trip is complete without a relaxing soak.

We felt surprisingly welcome in Sun Valley because we are the only clearly queer couple we have seen in town and at the resort so far. We’re on guard when entering homogenous spaces filled with cis-gendered, straight people because we’re two short-haired lesbians, more often than not. Will anyone say something offensive? Will we be subjected to a stare? What kinds of microaggressions will we encounter? However, the locals were genuine and willing to offer advice and warm welcomes, including a middle- aged dude in the hot tub who shared advice on where to eat and what to see and wished us well during our stay.

The next morning in Sun Valley, I met up with founder Cassie Abel for a half- day ski session. We were connected by a mutual friend, and I appreciate the gesture because skiing alone on a mountain can be lonely, especially if you’re new to navigating large resorts. Cassie, a seasoned pro and knowledgeable local, was aware of these rumors like the back of her hand. She effortlessly guided us around the mountain on pristine groomers to some of her favorite runs, mainly on the Seattle Ridge.

On the chairlift, we spoke about the brand’s commitment to creating more inclusive outdoor gear for women, including identifying people and a wide range of body types. She described Wild Rye’s efforts to support women’s elected office in their state and local governments, as well as their desire to speak out against Idaho’s law that forbids safe abortion access. It’s refreshing to hear about these grassroots efforts taking place in a conservative state like Idaho, let alone a tiny mountain town.

We pit-stop at Seattle Ridge Day Lodge, one of six stunning log cabin lodges on Bald Mountain, to take in the breathtaking views of the surrounding mountain landscape after a number of runs. This ski resort is by far the most beautiful I’ve ever been to. I start to feel guilty about Courtney hanging out alone the whole morning. In the” Limelight living room,” or the cozy lobby area with plush couches and a coffee bar, she was out enjoying herself by the fire. We choose the location where Courtney and I can meet up with us for the end of the day. Each with a spritz in hand, we toast to new friendships and stuff our faces with a bubbling pot of fondue.

While upscale fare like fondue is nice, a dive bar is more on our radar. If there’s one thing the straights and lesbians have in common, it’s our love of a grungy restaurant booth with sticker-adorned walls, rock music, and a pool table. Well, at least, our style of lesbian. We travel to one of Sun Valley’s finest restaurants known as the” Home of the best damn burgers in town” and one of the city’s finest eateries of this kind. With a schooner of Mexican lager and a large basket of piping-hot fries, we’re in our happy place. Even with no Pride flags in site ( or anywhere else in town ), the vibe feels alright.

Third installment: Park City, Utah

My best friend Jen and I flew to Park City to finish the journey. Surprise, surprise: We were n’t vying for the nightclub scene bursting at the seams with half- naked gay men in neon speedos. These overly common gay ski week events were unquestionably not in our speed. Instead, we were eager to attend a number of events held by a neighborhood-based nonprofit that aims to foster and grow the queer community in Park City and throughout Utah Gay Ski Week.

I’ll admit that I was confused when gearing up for this gay ski week. When I was looking for events, I discovered a muddle between Park City Mountain, Queerski, and Elevation’s social media posts, websites, and event calendars. They all appeared disjointed and dispersed. These organizations have different ideas of what gay ski week in Park City should look like. I was nevertheless content to attend.

I had an amazing vegetarian dinner at the Powder restaurant at the Waldorf Astoria, I had a massage at the Westgate Park City Resort & Spa, and I discovered an amazing little brewery, Offset Bier, known for its New Zealand-hopped hazy IPAs tucked on the north side of town. I also attended the Queerski Kickoff Dinner, a fundraiser for Queerski programming, and the. At the dinner, I had the opportunity to speak with Joe Uranker ( he/she ), the founder and lead organizer of Queerski, as well as other local and visiting queer people. Before my trip, I had an interview with Joe to find out more about the crucial work they’ve done over the past seven years. What started as a simple Park City Mountain yurt takeover for an afternoon during Utah Gay Ski Week has since turned into a multi- day celebration and gathering of community.

” I do n’t think that enough is being done on the national level in terms of community organizing”, says Uranker. Sometimes we forget to pay attention to the community because the political conversation is so heated and dominant. Many people are aware of how to talk about how to connect and build community, but they are not always aware of how to make those ideas come true. So rather than just being]in community], we’re spending a lot of time talking about it”.

Queerski’s goal, according to Uranker, is not to hold meet-ups where thousands of queer people gather in one space at once. Instead, their goal is to organize a number of weekly events that allow people to attend events that are appropriate for their interests, including everything from brunches and happy hours to group rides and dinners for fundraisers.

I met several people from the community at dinner, including an instructor at Park City Mountain who was involved in an internal employee group advocating for Vail Resorts ( Park City Mountain parent company ) to allow ski and snowboard instructors to put their gender pronouns on their nametags —something that previously was not allowed and ultimately became a long- fought battle. They also shared that they opted to volunteer their time to offer free community lessons to Queerski participants during Utah Gay Ski Week because it was impossible to do so “on the clock.” The Park City Mountain Safety patroller I would meet at the Pride Parade ride also mentioned that they had to take breaks from the Queerski-run event.

All to say, Uranker has mostly seen positive outcomes from partnering with the mountain in terms of allyship and support.

Before we started planning and hosting Queerski, we saw them showing up and wanting to support,” I did n’t know whether or not the local community was really supportive or not,” says Uranker. The current allyship, particularly in the way that allies like Park City Mountain are allowing us to take the lead in the conversation and do n’t impose their values, is about creating real community. For example, we’ve made zero sponsorship commitments, we’re not putting logos anywhere, and our partners are still giving money and showing up in meaningful ways. Inclusion, in my opinion, is that type of relationship and connection. That has meant a lot to us.

On Finding Community

So, is it possible to find queer community in unassuming ski towns and resorts? Yes.

Is there still a lot of work to be done to make ski towns and resorts a more welcoming place for visitors? Absolutely.

It’s time for more towns and resorts in the Mountain West to show up and stand up for the LGBTQ+ community, from flying more Pride flags and paying employees for their work at gay ski week events. Queer skiers and travelers who want to celebrate their identities can undoubtedly find community in places they might not have otherwise looked. We must support—emotionally, physically, and financially—the community organizations, Pride Ride leaders, local LGBTQ+ non- profits, and individuals who advocate, support, and protect our community.

Let’s head out on the mountain together.