A Movement Begins
vernight, it snowed a foot. After weeks of warming, the storm was a gift from the cold, white north to the eastern edge of the Wasatch. Snow fell in never-ending patterns: swirling helixes, angled sheets, waves catching a breath before cascading down in chaos. The day felt more like January than the beginning of March, and the weather report told us to savor it.
The bootpack to the top of Ninety-Nine-90 at Park City Mountain Resort was swarming with skiers. A local land conservationist named CAITLIN WILLARD slipped out the backcountry gate to find quieter pastures, and I followed her to a small, unexpected stash. Like most skiers in Park City, Utah, Willard, 34, is a transplant. While studying environmental sciences at the University of Massachusetts Amherst, she saw a story in a magazine that listed the top ski towns in North America. She picked Park City mostly because it wasn’t in Colorado or California, but also because she had an affinity for park skiing (she admitted to wearing tall-Ts and described herself as a “born-again backcountry skier”). She moved in 2006, found a shared room for $400 a month, and balanced odd jobs with skiing.
Since the first silver claim was established in Park City in 1869, the town has operated on a different tempo than the rest of Utah. In 2016, it took responsibility for its carbon emissions in the fight against climate change.
In the years that followed, rent doubled, Willard started a 9-to-5 job at a land trust, and Park City became plagued with issues that are universal to ski towns across the West: It is hard to make a living; there is no affordable housing; real estate development is incessant; and climate change is slowly, but consistently, melting the snowpack. One reason
