The car thermostat registered 81 degrees as I pulled into the multi-level cylindrical parking lot and gathered together my skis. I exited the car and joined the packs of rabid teenagers and flustered families streaming into the mall鈥檚 blindingly white entrance. Wearing a T-shirt and board shorts and lugging my skis and a duffel bag full of winter wear, I stared up into a familiarly luminous鈥攊f not downright garish鈥攖hree-level scene of suburban capitalism, the American Dream mall. I spotted a Zara and a Foot Locker and a wholly mediocre food court. (Also, lots of empty storefronts.) Then there鈥檚 the entertainment: an aquarium, several theme parks, a Zen garden, two miniature golf courses鈥攐ne Angry Birds-themed, the other alien-themed鈥攁nd then, skiing.

You don鈥檛 arrive at the American Dream mall so much as you鈥檙e engulfed by it. One minute you鈥檙e plodding along on a highway in East Rutherford, New Jersey (about 17 miles from New York City), surrounded by big box stores and a number of Starbucks drive-thrus; the next you鈥檝e been whisked into a labyrinth of concrete complexes, parking garages, and digital billboards flashing the words 鈥淲elcome to the Dream.鈥� Should you venture to crane your neck you will see jutting into the atmosphere a massive covered ramp propped up by a network of steel girders.

This architectural curiosity has a name鈥擝ig Snow鈥攁nd a rather lofty status: It is the country鈥檚 first indoor ski slope and arguably the mall鈥檚 biggest attraction. Though the slope opened in December 2019, the Covid-19 pandemic shuttered the facility in March; five months later, it re-opened. In a way then, my visit, in mid-July 2021, coincided with Big Snow鈥檚 approximate one-year anniversary. It鈥檚 still a baby, as far as resorts go鈥攁nd, given the fact that just five new resorts have opened in the U.S. in the last 20 years, a very unique baby indeed.

That the slope鈥攁nd, really, the entire American Dream complex鈥攊s here at all is a minor miracle. Plans for the mall itself have been plagued with uncertainty since they were first announced in 1996: The original developer, Mills Corporation, ran into funding issues shortly after breaking ground on the mall in 2004. After the Mills Corporation went broke, the mall was purchased but the 2008 financial crisis doomed that enterprise. In 2011, a Canadian real estate firm bought the mall and renamed it American Dream. Ten years and $5 billion later, the quixotic dream has been realized.

Yet, in spite of everything, the mall is standing, and on a muggy summer day, I was standing in the thick of it, observing a convoy of children mounted atop motorized stuffed tigers zipping around the ground-floor atrium. I stepped between the toddlers and ascended an escalator to find myself face-to-face with the words 鈥淏IG SNOW鈥� in bold LED lights, where I was greeted by Mark Dobrowolski, the resort鈥檚 bearded and affable manager. Strolling past the gear shop, where any mall-going schmuck could peruse the racks of outerwear and smattering of skis and snowboards, Dobrowolski told me that during the summer they see between 300 and 500 people per day. 鈥淲inter is our busiest time,鈥� he said, 鈥渨here we鈥檙e sold out day today.鈥�

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Over his shoulder, out past the floor-to-ceiling window behind him, and straight into the wintry beast: a 1,000-foot, 16-story climate-controlled ski run (where it鈥檚 always 28 degrees) housed inside of what looks like a fairly drab warehouse. The walls and ceilings are unadorned; the only embellishment comes at the base of the slope, where the entire wall facing the ski hill has been plastered over with an image of an alpine lodge. It looked to me like a very large, and very costly, walk-in refrigerator.

Save for the small beginner section, Big Snow is really just one run, split in half between a groomer and a terrain park, serviced by a quad chairlift that runs directly overhead. Giant wall-mounted air conditioning units hum endlessly and hundreds of lights (and quite a few snowmaking guns), affixed to support beams, point down on the dozens of skiers and snowboarders below. There鈥檚 also a snowcat that grooms the hill every few hours鈥攏ot exactly a Sisyphean task, given that the slope registers just a 26-percent grade at its steepest point, which is comparable to a typical intermediate run. 鈥淚t鈥檚 definitely lopsided toward beginners,鈥� says Dobrowolski. 鈥淲e鈥檝e seen days where 90 percent of the people who come through are first-timers.鈥�

This became apparent once I clicked into my skis and took the three-minute lift ride to arrive at the summit. On the groomed side of the slope鈥攃alled Switchback鈥攁 horde of neophytes, many of them sporting the facility鈥檚 red and orange rental jackets, slid slowly and awkwardly down the run, occasionally toppling over one another.

Ability aside, I immediately was struck by the diversity of the crowd. I saw Black skiers, brown skiers, and white skiers; Jewish, Hindu, and Muslim, some wearing religious indicators as they slipped across the snow. I met skiers from Florida and skiers from Japan, all of them lurching clumsily down a small patch of man-made snow. This might seem anecdotal, but it鈥檚 not: In a sport that skews overwhelmingly white鈥攖hree-quarters of the 9.5 million Americans who ski are white, according to a survey by the SnowSports Industries America trade group鈥擝ig Snow has already been recognized as an industry leader, winning the inaugural Burton Diversity and Inclusion Award at last year鈥檚 National Ski Areas Association winter conference.

On that note:

鈥淚t brings a lot of skiers and riders that normally wouldn鈥檛 be exposed to the sport,鈥� says Allen Liou, a 41-year-old from Manhattan who comes up every weekend with his three-year-old son, Paxton. Big Snow provides a perfect teaching venue, Allen says, because 鈥渢he conditions are pristine. It鈥檚 the perfect temperature, there are no icy patches.鈥�

Skiing was always a central component of the American Dream, no matter who was financing it, but the development of the indoor slope was, like the mall itself, slow going. The turning point came when Triple Five brought in Joe Hession.

A native of Vernon, New Jersey, Hession grew up skiing Mountain Creek, where he got his first job as a parking lot attendant in 1994. Hession worked his way up the chain at Mountain Creek until he became the general manager in 2010.

But the Jersey boy couldn鈥檛 resist the call of the West鈥攐r, more accurately, couldn鈥檛 ignore his girlfriend鈥檚 (and now wife鈥檚) desire to head West, and he eventually followed her out to . Not that he has any regrets about the matter. 鈥淢y dream was to live in Colorado,鈥� he said.

While living in Boulder, Hession began to wonder: Why did the ski industry have such a hard time luring in repeat customers? (According to an industry analysis, four out of five novice skiers and snowboarders don鈥檛 ever return.) And so in 2012, Hession鈥檚 consulting business, SNOW Operating, was born.

SNOW鈥檚 most significant offering is its Terrain-Based Learning program, which aims to fine-tune a mountain鈥檚 novice experience鈥攏amely by endowing instructors with a more rigid pedagogy and by constructing features like rollers and banked turns that make trails more beginner-friendly. 鈥淚t鈥檚 basically shaping snow, and working with instructors on a methodology to take gravity out of your first time skiing and snowboarding,鈥� says Hession.

It sounds a little nebulous, but his philosophy has caught on鈥攎ore than 40 resorts have licensed SNOW鈥檚 program, including Killington, Aspen Snowmass, and Whistler Blackcomb, where the program caught the eye of Don Ghermezian, the CEO of Triple Five, whose family is also behind the American Dream mall. A meeting between the two soon followed, when Hession discussed the ins and outs of operating a mountain.

鈥淚 said to Don, 鈥榃hat鈥檚 your plan?鈥� And he explained experiential relationships, the fact that malls in the 鈥�80s and 鈥�90s had anchor stores鈥攖he Macy鈥檚 and the movie theaters. In the future, instead of anchors being big department stores, it鈥檚 going to be amusements and attractions,鈥� Hession says.鈥� By the time we were done talking, he literally ended the meeting with, 鈥榊ou have to run this thing, it has to be yours.鈥欌�� Hession鈥檚 initial skepticism quickly melted away.

His handiwork was evident from the moment I walked into Big Snow: the ticketing system that does away with wickets in favor of a scannable wristband; the three stationary gondolas that house large televisions playing a safety video on loop; the set of gates that create a series of gently banking turns along the bunny slope. (This latter feature is where you can see the Terrain-Based Learning approach on full display.) It鈥檚 all very intentional, albeit a little sterile.

So far, the formula seems to be working, even in spite of a global pandemic. That鈥檚 not to say SNOW Operating didn鈥檛 take a few hits to its business, worst of all the passing of the original general manager, Jim Haas, who died in March as a result of complications caused by Covid-19.

The resort also took some serious financial blows during its five-month closure. The government鈥檚 Paycheck Protection Program facilitated a roughly $1 million loan to SNOW Operating in April 2020. Now, nine months after the mall鈥檚 re-opening, the resort is already profitable. Given that the number of active ski and snowboard participants in the U.S. has been in a steady decline over the last 10 years, maybe Big Snow鈥攚ith its $70 gear-and-instruction day tickets and its close proximity to a major city鈥攊s the life raft the industry has needed.

鈥淭here are a lot of people, especially millennials, who don鈥檛 ski,鈥� says Chris Diamond, former president of Steamboat Resort, 鈥渂ut now, as they gather around the water cooler in the office, are going to be listening to their friends talk about a recent trip and how much fun they had. The indoor facility is a great bridge.鈥�

I heard that sentiment a few times over the day鈥攅ssentially, that Big Snow was less intimidating than a normal slope鈥攅ven if not everyone had the acumen to cite temperatures and snow quality. 鈥淚 always wanted to try it, but this is easy and safe,鈥� said Leila Kirton, a 19-year-old from nearby Chatham, New Jersey, who wore the branded red rental jacket that marked her as newer to the sport. 鈥淲hen we first got here, they told us roughly the basics: how to stop and how to turn. And then,鈥� she waved toward the bunny slope, 鈥渨e did the bank turns a few times.鈥�

The other half of the slope, Northern Lights, was littered with well-maintained rails and boxes plus a nice little tabletop jump. The crowd here was unsurprisingly younger and more skilled; also unsurprisingly, many of them wore baggy sweatshirts. One of those skiers, 17-year-old Demarco Dinsmore, said he and a few buddies drove five-and-a-half hours from Uniontown, Pa., just to get their park fix. 鈥淏ut I think it鈥檚 super-duper worth it,鈥� he said. His friend, Ryan Voyten, chimed in, 鈥淓verybody鈥檚 stoked to be here. You can鈥檛 really catch any bad vibes here.鈥�

After watching the crew of young hucksters film each other sliding down a long, kinked rail, I joined the newbies on the groomer. I set off, arcing wide turns and weaving between cautious beginners. And then, in a few seconds, I had reached the bottom. I managed about 12 turns.

The snow was granulated and approachable (鈥渒ind of like a sand-snow,鈥� as Hession put it), and the run was perfectly serviceable. It didn鈥檛 provide anything close to the elusive rapture鈥攖hat ineffable sense of invincibility鈥攖hat a good powder day might, but then, you can鈥檛 easily find powder in this hemisphere in July. But isn鈥檛 that beside the point? If you are an experienced downhill skier, you鈥檙e not going to Big Snow for the thrill of the piste; you鈥檙e there to watch gleeful novices learn how to pizza their planks and to see appreciative park rats spend hours perfecting their latest maneuver. You鈥檙e there for the community, the camaraderie, and to escape the heat. Maybe you鈥檙e just there for the novelty of skiing. In a mall. In New Jersey.

After a few more runs, I decided to call it a day. As I walked out of Big Snow and returned to the mall鈥檚 dazzling signs and motorized animals, I was stopped by a couple. 鈥淪o, is it real skiing in there?鈥� the woman asked in a dubious tone.

Without pause, I answered them: 鈥淵eah, it is.鈥�

The post Can a Shopping Mall in New Jersey Attract New Skiers to a Stagnant Sport? appeared first on 国产吃瓜黑料 Online.

In March 2021, Vail Resorts gave the snow-sports world a shock: prices for its multi-resort season pass, called the Epic Pass, would be slashed by 20 percent, from $979 to $783. Its Epic Local Pass, which grants access to fewer resorts, would also see a price cut, from $729 to $583. 鈥淲e are excited to make it easier for everyone to move into a pass,鈥� Vail鈥檚 then CEO Rob Katz in a press release, 鈥渁nd we remain fully committed to ensuring continuous improvements in the guest experience.鈥�

Thanks to the price cut, and to an impressive portfolio of 40 resorts worldwide, Vail sold for 2021鈥�22, a 76 percent jump over 2019鈥�20 figures. As a result, earnings jumped 30 percent from fiscal year 2020 to fiscal year 2021.

鈥淰ail Resorts took really aggressive pricing action this year on the Epic Pass, and that was undoubtedly going to trigger high sales,鈥� said Tom Foley, a ski-industry analyst and director of business intelligence at the travel research company Inntopia. 鈥淚 think it might have exceeded their expectations.鈥�

A Breckenridge, Colorado-based ski instructor who asked not to be named had a less generous assessment. Vail hasn鈥檛 had the staff to support the huge crowds they brought in, he said. 鈥淭hey left local resorts ill-equipped to deal with that burden.鈥�

Eleven months after announcing its record sales, Vail is mired in a seemingly endless barrage of complaints, social media vitriol, and negative news stories. Customers across its vast empire are about congestion, long chairlift lines, and reduced operations. Skiers at Washington鈥檚 Stevens Pass have launched a petition to ask for a refund. Local newspapers Vail for its drop in customer service. And across the internet, photos and humorous have generated tens of thousands of likes and comments.

Vail has that its deficiencies this season are a reflection of broader trends in the U.S. workforce, such as the housing crisis sweeping ski towns and the loss of labor due to the pandemic. And to be fair, 60 percent of the ski areas in the U.S. were all open positions in the 2020鈥�21 season, according to the National Ski Areas Association.

But interviews with over a dozen current and former Vail employees suggest the economy and the ongoing pandemic aren鈥檛 solely to blame. Vail鈥檚 record sale of ski passes has played a part, they said. The company鈥檚 dysfunctional internal policies, as well as its low wages, have also harmed its operating efficiency. According to these employees, who spoke on the condition of anonymity out of fear of retaliation, the company can be just as frustrating on the inside as it is in the lift lines.

One of the criticisms sources repeated was Vail鈥檚 ignoring feedback from its boots-on-the-ground employees, who have had a front-row seat for the problems on the slopes.

鈥淚t worries me that Vail isn鈥檛 listening to their local people,鈥� said a snowboard instructor at Boston Mills, a 79-acre mountain in northeast Ohio that was by Vail in 2019 as part of its much ballyhooed $264 million takeover of rival Peak Resorts and its 17 mountains.

In the case of Boston Mills, locals were irritated when Vail shortened the ski day (the resort used to stay open until 11 P.M. but now closes at 5 P.M. on weekends) and expanded the terrain park, which took up space typically reserved for beginner runs, crowding the available easy terrain. That congestion is especially irksome, noted one Boston Mills instructor, on a small mountain that features low vertical: 鈥淵ou鈥檙e talking about a place that has 300 vertical feet. People don鈥檛 drive two hours to ski all day here.鈥� (Vail鈥檚 vice president of communications Sara Olson says local staff at each resort make decisions about daily operations.)

There鈥檚 frustration among Boston Mills staff鈥攁nd locals, for that matter鈥攚ith Vail鈥檚 inability to hire an adequate number of lift operators. The instructor blamed this on the position鈥檚 low pay: the job was advertised as paying $11.25 an hour, and even after Vail in January an end-of-season bonus of $2 an hour, Boston Mills鈥� wages are still far below, say, local amusement park Cedar Point鈥檚 offering of $20 an hour for seasonal workers. (Cedar Point has apparently finding workers.)

The complaints extend far beyond Boston Mills. Employees and ex-employees at Vail properties, including Park City Mountain in Utah, Mount Snow in Vermont, Stevens Pass in Washington State, and Colorado鈥檚 Beaver Creek and Breckenridge, all voiced frustrations with Vail鈥檚 inability to hire seasonal workers.

鈥淵ou could be a part-time retail associate and make a dollar more an hour than their starting wage for lift mechanics,鈥� said a Park City Mountain employee who works in on-mountain operations. 鈥淭hey鈥檝e given no incentive to stay at the company.鈥�

鈥淲e have a lot of well-trained, qualified instructors who are making less than burger flippers at fast-food joints,鈥� added a ski instructor at Breckenridge. (In an emailed statement to 国产吃瓜黑料, Olson said that Vail 鈥渕ade a significant investment鈥� in wages and highlighted 鈥渢he $2/hour bonus added to our employees鈥� compensation for the rest of the season.鈥�)

For a company that boasts just shy of $2 billion and controls a lion鈥檚 share of national skier visits (and, as a publicly traded company, has a fiduciary duty to shareholders), these may seem like small-scale problems. And Vail recently announced major improvements to many of its resorts, including a to build 21 new chairlifts across 14 resorts next season. But employees say that Vail鈥檚 wages are well below livable, especially in mountain towns experiencing soaring real estate prices and ever more second homes and vacation rentals.

In addition to wages, employees were concerned by what they see as a one-size-fits-all approach to resort management as well as by Vail鈥檚 ongoing efforts to through its headquarters in Broomfield, Colorado, as the company wrote in a 2019 statement. This process has included members of resort marketing, finance, and human-resource teams . But employees say that such centralization has created confusion and left mountains lacking key institutional knowledge.

One former Peak Resorts employee who worked in the marketing department said that soon after Vail鈥檚 acquisition, resort general managers felt they had less say over day-to-day operations鈥斺�渨hat to groom, where to make snow, when to make snow.鈥� Instead, regional directors and corporate employees in Broomfield took over decision-making.

鈥淎 lot of those regional directors and people in Broomfield weren鈥檛 really familiar with the intricacies of operating a ski resort in the Midwest or the East Coast, which need snowmaking early and often to maintain a proper snow surface,鈥� the employee said. 鈥淭hey were used to snowmaking conditions like you find in Colorado, where you just make snow up until the Christmas holiday and then you stop because it鈥檚 supplemented by natural snow.鈥� As a result, the employee said, Vail鈥檚 new acquisitions have seen a slower opening schedule.

Vail spokespeople say that an unusually balmy winter led to delays in opening trails to the public this year. 鈥淩egarding delayed openings of our resorts鈥攖hat was the result of weather,鈥� said Olson, Vail鈥檚 VP of communications. 鈥淎t some resorts, like Park City Mountain, we had temperatures in the fifties and sixties which is not conducive to even snowmaking. At others, like our Tahoe Resorts, the warm early season was followed by massive amounts of snow that took days to dig out from to ensure the terrain was safe to ski and ride on.鈥�

Vail鈥檚 CEO, Kirsten Lynch, who was appointed to the role in November, added: 鈥淭he early months of this ski and ride season were challenging for a variety of reasons, and I am proud of the tremendous work of all our teams who reacted quickly to execute improvements across our resorts. We now have nearly 100 percent of our terrain open at our ten largest resorts, with great progress at our regional and local resorts as well. Our goal is always to provide our guests an amazing experience and I am confident we have a great season ahead of us.鈥�

Critics, however, point out that warm weather didn鈥檛 stop many of its rival resorts.听鈥淲hen the independent resorts have 50 percent of their terrain open, the Vail resorts have 20 percent of their terrain open,鈥� said the former Peak employee. 鈥淭hey鈥檙e all in the same climate.鈥� In Ohio, for example, Boston Mills didn鈥檛 for the season until January 7, while (about an hour鈥檚 drive away) was open before Christmas. And though Stevens Pass opened on December 15, by mid-January about 60 percent of the terrain was 鈥攁n unusually high percentage compared to other Washington resorts, which had most of their serviceable terrain open by then.

Employees also expressed dismay over the removal of on-site human-resources departments in favor of an 鈥攁nother casualty of Vail鈥檚 centralized approach鈥攁s a major pain point. Workers say it has caused a number of headaches. In one case, a ski instructor in Colorado offered to lend money to direct reports who were unable to reach anyone on the corporate team when their paychecks weren鈥檛 processed on time.

Vail says the new system makes HR support available daily. However, some employees expressed challenges getting in contact with HR, citing slow response times.听鈥淭he dismissal of [individual] HR departments made it clear that they don鈥檛 care about employees,鈥� added the Park City employee, explaining that the outsourced system is far less expedient. 鈥淗R now takes two to four days to reply.鈥� (Olson, Vail鈥檚 communications VP, said: 鈥淲e centralized our HR function to ensure consistency, scalability and best-in-class support across all of our resorts鈥攚hich has been invaluable as we navigate this pandemic.鈥�)

Employees suggested these internal problems, when matched with the low wages, make Vail less able to hire and retain new workers. 鈥淭he past ten or 15 years there鈥檚 been a gradual acceleration of devaluing employees,鈥� said a Beaver Creek ski instructor. 鈥淰ail has these : serve others, do right, be inclusive, drive value, do good, be safe, and have fun. Most of their core values they are not living up to.鈥�

Conversations with customers from multiple Vail-owned resorts show an exasperated clientele who have had to wait in lift lines for upwards of 30 minutes and face . 鈥淭his year has been horrible,鈥� said Jon Sleep, a skier at Stevens Pass, where closed terrain鈥攄espite snowy conditions鈥攈as prompted mass complaints from customers. 鈥淥ther resorts in my area are operating like normal.鈥� (Vail has said that lift lines at its resorts were under a ten-minute wait time 90 percent of the time during the holiday.)

Boston Mills skier Heather Johnston Welliver said the long wait times are especially vexing, since that resort is so small. 鈥淚 have kids and I want them to grow up skiing, just like I did,鈥� she said. 鈥淭hey don鈥檛 love getting on all their gear and going to wait in lines that are 20 minutes long to go down the hill for 30 seconds.鈥� Vail鈥檚 attempts to its lingering lift-line problem鈥攍aunching a daily forecast of wait times in its app and implementing 鈥減hone free zones鈥� in lift lines to make sure people aren鈥檛 distracted and further exacerbating the problem鈥攈ave proven largely unsuccessful, employees say.

There is at least one source of hope: growing calls for accountability from mountain-town and ski-area locals. Ski-patrol unions in Breckenridge, Park City, and Stevens Pass reached contract agreements with Vail in the last few months. Other movements have been more grassroots, relying on social media and public comment to share grievances and demand action.

In early January, Stevens Pass local Jeremy Hunter Rubingh drafted a on Change.org that claims Vail not only failed customers but might also be in violation of the Washington Consumer Protection Act because it 鈥渄eceived a substantial portion of the public鈥� by selling passes while always 鈥淸intending] to keep 60 percent of the terrain and the majority of lifts closed for the season.鈥� To date, the petition has racked up nearly 44,000 signatures, prompted other mountain communities to of their own, and caught the attention of the after the office received over 80 complaints about the ski area.

鈥淭his was about being pro-worker and about being pro-skier, pro-snowboarder,鈥� Rubingh told me. 鈥淭his is about getting some positive changes, getting terrain opened, getting people paid. I think that鈥檚 why it resonated. It wasn鈥檛 just like, 鈥榃e鈥檙e pissed, we hate Vail.鈥� It was like, 鈥楴o, this is what it should be. Let鈥檚 do something.鈥欌��

At least with Stevens Pass, Vail has acknowledged its mistakes. In early January the resort its general manager; two weeks later, it offered at the discounted price of $385 and finally much of its closed terrain. (Olson, Vail鈥檚 VP of communications, added that it has made improvements in both staffing and terrain in the last few weeks, with 85 percent of the mountain now open.)

Rubingh has mixed feelings about Vail鈥檚 attempts at extending an olive branch. 鈥淚t鈥檚 these specific business practices that have left Vail Resorts behind compared to other resorts,鈥� he said. 鈥淓veryone has been hit by the pandemic. But why is it that it was so exacerbated with Vail Resorts鈥� properties?鈥�

Not all of the grassroots campaigns have been so diplomatic. In March 2021, after Vail announced the price slash on its Epic Passes, Alex Kaufman, a Colorado-based skier who spent two decades working at resorts across the U.S., had a feeling that conditions were about to deteriorate. For $12, Kaufman bought the domain name epicliftlines.com; he then created a corresponding . Kaufman鈥檚 premonition was, of course, all too accurate, and soon people鈥�39,000 of them and counting鈥攂egan flocking to his fledgling Instagram to air their grievances.

鈥淭his thing kind of blew up by basically just holding up a mirror to what was going on,鈥� said Kaufman.

Kaufman pointed to a recent story about Vail鈥檚 troubles as evidence that this social media uproar might be inspiring real-world change. (And indeed Wall Street has taken notice: Vail鈥檚 stock has 26.86 percent over the last three months, from $372.51 on November 5 to $272.44 on January 28.) 鈥淚n the article, I saw the word pivot come out of the CEO鈥檚 mouth,鈥� Kaufman said, referencing a seemingly trivial line in the Journal鈥檚 reporting, where Kirsten Lynch said Vail would be 鈥渨illing to hear and change and pivot.鈥�

鈥淭hat鈥檚 been the most important thing,鈥� Kaufman said. 鈥淣ow, every analyst on every call is going to be asking her about how the pivot is going.鈥�

The post Vail Resorts Sold a Record Number of Passes. Now Their Ski Areas Are Facing a Logistical Nightmare. appeared first on 国产吃瓜黑料 Online.

Early in the morning, Davyd Betchkal is standing in the remote lowlands flanking the eastern slopes of Denali. Snow-capped peaks tower all around him; a river rushes nearby; a beaver鈥檚 tail smacks the water; a vivid chorus of birdsong fills the air; wolves howl in the distance.

For the better part of eight years, this has been Betchkal's life. As the National Park Service's soundscape specialist in Alaska, he has been tasked with studying the parks' natural acoustic environment and determining the ecological impacts of human-made noise. With his assistant, Noah Hoffman, Betchkal has documented all 54 million acres of Alaska鈥檚 parks, which constitute some 60 percent of the total area of all 58 national parks.听

Two things are clear to Betchkal: sound is crucial to the health of plants and wildlife聽and everything from airplanes cruising overhead to the roaring of snowmobiles on the ground or the muffled ring of an iPhone in a jacket pocket affects鈥攁nd often disrupts鈥攖he ambiance of our most precious natural areas.

“Listening helps people understand the importance of wild places,” Betchkal says. “It's really my first priority as an NPS ranger: making nature relevant to the American public. If it's not, these places will cease to exist.”

That鈥檚 why the Park Service invested $3.2 million this year to better understand how sounds move around the parks鈥攎any of which experienced record visitation in 2016. Noise pollution鈥檚 impact is profound and varied, but also difficult to measure and even tougher to use to extrapolate solutions. At the tip of this venture is Betchkal, who has configured and installed an array of portable recording stations around Denali.听

To be clear, in the context of natural places, birdsong isn't noise; the buzz of an airplane is. Sound, by contrast, is a protected resource under the Park Service鈥檚 as part of the profile of a natural environment. According to by Park Service senior scientist Kurt Fristrup, a national park goer hears human-created noise, much of it aviation-related, during about 25 percent of his or her visit.

“Noise is just as ubiquitous and broad in its impacts on the continent as air pollution,” Fristrup says.听

Research has linked noise鈥攊n particular, noise above 65 decibels鈥攖o cardiovascular disease, elevated blood pressure, and poor sleeping patterns among humans. The Environmental Protection Agency, in fact, has . While it poses a greater risk in cities, it's increasingly become an issue in nature, too, especially when the noise from a propeller plane can easily top 80 decibels, which falls squarely in the threshold for hearing loss, .听

Noise can be even more harmful for animals. published last year in Global Change Biology found that noise pollution can harm birds' abilities to communicate with one another, thereby leading to their migration away from their (now clamorous) natural environments. And according to a 听颈苍听PLOS One, elk and pronghorn in Grand Teton National Park displayed a diminished ability to detect predators due to their decline in responsiveness as a result of increased noise pollution.

But before we can begin to solve these problems, we need a baseline of noise knowledge for each park. This is called a soundscape鈥攊t鈥檚 basically a compilation of extensive field recordings that capture both the birdsong and the plane engine. “The soundscape tells you the truth,” says soundscape ecologist Bernie Krause, known in the field for his pioneering work in field recording. “It gives you some incredible information about the relationship between humans and the habitat, based upon the ways in which human endeavor is affecting that environment.”

Though the Park Service was created in 1916, it wasn't until 2000 that a director there issued a mandate for soundscape preservation, by which time commercial airliners had been . Before then, “there was no logical, organized plan that was developed upon which to base the U.S. noise control policy” according to presented at the International Congress and Exposition on Noise Control Engineering. The basic idea was to develop a baseline for what unpolluted ecosystems sound like, then use it to measure how noise may interrupt or alter natural processes.

“Sound, just like the availability of nesting materials or food sources, is an important element of a productive natural system,” says Frank Turina, the NPS' program manager for policy, planning and compliance. “Activities such as finding desirable habitat and mates, avoiding predators, protecting young, and establishing territories are all dependent on the acoustical environment. 聽When the acoustic environment is degraded by noise, these behaviors become more challenging.”

After the 2000 mandate, called Director's Order 47, the Park Service began setting up sound monitoring stations that 聽in parks across the country. While the early models were expensive and cumbersome, innovations in the design of the stations has allowed the NPS to increase its sound monitoring from two parks per year to upwards of 20, including Grand Canyon, Grand Teton, and Zion.

But Denali may be the most promising source of soundscape research in the parks system to date. It was among the first to begin taking inventory of sounds, in 2001. Betchkal took over the initiative in 2011 and, having now compiled his baseline data, is entering a ten-year monitoring phase that involves keeping tabs on the soundscapes and measuring the effectiveness of any future noise mitigation efforts in the park. “The inventory gave us a great idea about how sound changes with space,鈥� Betchkal says. 鈥淭he monitoring should help us understand how sound changes in time.鈥澛�

If all goes according to plan, Betchkal鈥檚 data will be used to create 聽of how and where sound will evolve and occur across the entire continent. They may help guide planning and policies concerning human-made sound. Once we have a baseline and register for a healthy soundscape, we can apply them anywhere, Fristrup says.

There are consistent patterns in sound levels across all the environments where the Park Service has taken recordings, Fristrup says. 鈥淒ata from the southwestern deserts,鈥� for instance, 鈥渃an inform predictions regarding eastern coastal parks, despite their manifold differences.鈥澛�

Betchkal's work will also serve the Park Service as it investigates 鈥渢he consequences of noise exposure for things like human health, ecosystem function, social justice, [and] visitor experience,” Fristrup says. In more practical terms, that might mean studying whether low-income Americans bear the brunt of America's human-created noise pollution鈥攚hich comes, in large part, from airplanes.

In 2015, about 560,000 people visited Denali, a good many of them participating in flying sightseeing tours of the mountain peaks. In most of Alaska's parks, a visitor can expect to hear between ten and 20 planes flying overhead per day, according to Betchkal. When there are more than ten “noise events,” such as overflights, per day, true quietude鈥攖he absence of human noise for an extended period鈥攂ecomes “vanishingly small,” he says.

Since 2000, the NPS had been working with the Federal Aviation Administration to develop air-tour management plans. But, due in part to fundamental disagreements between the two agencies鈥攍argely concerning the sometimes competing interests of tourism and conservation鈥攊mplementation has been slow. Last year, however, the Park Service and FAA agreed to begin monitoring air-tour routes in Florida鈥檚 Biscayne and Big Cypress national parks鈥攂oth popular flight-tour destinations.

Meanwhile, leading soundscape experts haven鈥檛 come to consensus on some foundational elements of the field, such as establishing appropriate terminology for characterizing the varying levels and states of noise and sound. But it seems everyone agrees on at least one thing: human beings are becoming more disconnected from the sounds of the natural world, and it鈥檚 hurting us in the long run.听

“We don鈥檛 know how to listen,鈥� Krause says. 鈥淲e have to quiet the fuck down.”

The post The Greatest Threat to Our National Parks Might Be Noise Pollution appeared first on 国产吃瓜黑料 Online.