Essay: Homewood will not open this year because of greed

Twenty years ago, after I had just turned 21, I moved into a house on the West Shore with some of my Chico State college buddies. It was the winter of 2003-04 and seven of us lived in a three-bedroom home in the neighborhood behind Sunnyside Market.

Four of my roommates worked at what is now Palisades Tahoe, two of my roommates worked at Northstar California, and I got a job at Homewood Mountain Resort. I loved the idea of working at this small family-owned ski resort, which I understood to be owned by a farmer in Sacramento. Homewood had a character that was so different than its sister corporate conglomerates. I think working for a family-owned business creates a family-like atmosphere amongst the staff. Things are a little more casual, a bit more personal, and you end up creating a bond that is incredibly unique. (I would form similar memories and relationships like this later at Mt. Rose Ski Tahoe and Waterman’s Landing.)

On my first day working in the Homewood tickets department, the guy who trained me reeked so badly of whisky that they sent him home after lunch. Even though he slurred through our instruction with his bloodshot red eyes, I was a smart enough college student to figure it out. I think adult daily tickets were around $35 then. No one complained about the price of lift tickets. The hardest part was trying to explain to people how to attach the wire/sticker ticket to their ski jackets without them bungling it up and having to print out a new one.

After a week of working in the tickets department, my boss Michael Jackson (how can you forget that name?) sent me up to the little red Schoolhouse underneath the Poma lift to sell ski lessons. Michael Jackson was a super nice white guy with a head full of long dreadlocks. He told me about how he once found a white film canister of weed underneath the main Homewood chairlift and it had baked in the sun and the snow for so long that the green buds turned white. “Did you smoke it or sell it?” I asked him. “You could’ve probably gotten some good money for that.” He smiled.

Days were spent selling ski lessons by myself in my little red schoolhouse, watching people trying to figure out how to ride the Poma, and shoveling snow. The nights were spent going out to the casinos (I was a fan of the $3 blackjack tables at the Cal Neva), one of the employee parties on the West Shore (13 Chilean J1’s lived in a house and introduced me to the pisco sour), or that bar in Tahoe City where the Thai Kitchen is now (they made strong cheap cocktails). The guy-to-girl ratio was 10:1.

It was one of the best winters I ever had. I am still friends with the former Homewood mountain manager who hired me; he owns a business in North Lake Tahoe and we collaborate on articles sometimes.

Fast forward to 2013

I moved back to Tahoe in the winter of 2006 and this time I never left. I met my boyfriend who is a fellow snowboarder and native Northern Californian, and we have always had a season pass to at least one of the Tahoe resorts every season in the 11 years we’ve been together.

He had never been to Homewood until I introduced him to the mountain. He loved that there were never any crowds there, that the snow was always perfect, and the terrain was simply FUN. Tears spring to my eyes just thinking about the incredible powder runs I’ve taken there, with the backdrop of Big Blue behind me. It felt like it was his mountain, to me it felt like home. And you can’t beat the panoramic views of the lake from 85% of the runs. After that season, my boyfriend got a season pass there every year.

That was even when I didn’t continue to support Homewood. Season pass prices kept creeping up until I couldn’t justify the cost of it anymore. In the last few years, season passes cost upwards of around $600 even though they hadn’t expanded the mountain or made any substantial improvements to make the guest experience any better. But my boyfriend thought that simply the lack of crowds made the guest experience the best it could be.

I’m too much of a cheapskate.

There is a core group of North Shore residents who took to Facebook to speak out against the expensive passes and point out some shady things happening over the past few years. How the South Lodge mysteriously burned down. How they weren’t releasing season passes in the springtime for the following season. How the Ellis Chair broke on powder days. How a tall can of Pabst cost $8.

We knew JMA Ventures (a self-described “real estate investment firm”) had big plans for development, and that was always being fought by local environmental groups. There were talks of turning Homewood private and working with Discovery Land, a company notorious for taking over properties and turning them into exclusive clubs for super rich. Some of their “worlds” include a golf courses, the Surf Club in Austin, Tex., Yellowstone Club in Big Sky, Mont. and The Hills in the Hamptons of New York.

“Amazing club that even celebs can’t afford is just 7 hours from Boise” is one headline about The Yellowstone Club. “’It’s all for the rich’: anger in Scotland over huge lochside gated community” is another one about a Discovery Land property. This is the company that owns Homewood now.

Thinking about how discombobulated Homewood’s management has become from 2006 to the now makes me want to punch a wall.

The big announcement (or what I call the F-You to the Tahoe community)

After seeing all these developments over the last few years, I saw the writing on the wall. When I co-wrote the second edition of Moon Northern California Road Trips in spring of 2022, I took Homewood Mountain Resort out of the guidebook, which was hard to do because there are not that many public recreational activities on the West Shore. Even two years ago, Homewood General Manager Kevin Mitchell could not confirm what the resort’s plans were.

Editor’s Note: While Alpine and Palisades are located west of the lake, Homewood Mountain Resort is the only skiing and snowboarding destination located on Tahoe’s West Shore.”

Then on the eve of October 11^th, Homewood Mountain Resort announced that it would not open this year. In a statement, the resort blamed local regulators for not revising the 2011 approved Master Plan to move the gondola terminal and reduce building size and residential density before their financial partner backed out.

Part of the statement:

“To date, we are still awaiting approval of the amendments, including the Madden Chair replacement (gondola) permit submitted over a year ago, to move forward on ski infrastructure and other investments. Hypothetical fears and false rumors regarding public access to the mountain from Keep Homewood Public’s leadership have dramatically slowed the pace of the approval process. 

Without a clear path forward, our financial partner has withdrawn their support for this ski season. As a result, we are now in the regrettable position of being unable to operate or sell season passes for the 2024-25 season. We understand the deep disappointment this announcement will cause. It goes without saying that this decision was not made lightly. “

Keep Homewood Public responded on its website, saying, “We are very surprised that HMR’s decision comes on the heels of an encouraging Sept 25 TRPA meeting that paved the way for the public sharing the mountain with members.”

JMA/Discovery Land told Moonshine Ink that they have “been subsidizing the community’s ski experience while operating at a deficit” and relied on a “financial partner for the annual subsidy.” I read this as an F- you to Tahoe. “You didn’t let us do what we want, now you will all suffer,” I imagine them thinking.

All of us longtime North/West Shore local skiers and snowboarders are understandably pissed.

And can I just say (if my editor lets me), that the timing of this announcement is a double kick in the nuts for North/West Shore skiers and snowboarders. Editor’s Note: I’ll allow it. All the other Tahoe ski resorts are done with their September season pass sales and have now raised their rates $100-$300. So those who held onto a glimmer of hope (like my boyfriend) that Homewood was going to open this year are left high and dry. On the morning of Oct. 12, we talked about what the best options were for skiing and snowboarding this year. The $1,047 Epic Pass or the $1,449 IKON Pass?

Then that day I went to the Tahoe Literary Festival. In the “Trash Magic” workshop at the Gatekeeper’s Museum on the West Shore, our instructor Evelyn Schmelling asked us to write down our frustrations (“getting all that trash out”) before we went outside and pounded on the keys of vintage typewriters set up next to the lake. Before we started part two of the workshop, she asked us to share some of our writing.

“I’m mad that Homewood isn’t opening this year,” North Shore resident John said. “It’s such a slap in the face.” The announcement was made less than 24 hours beforehand, and the frustrations were already reverberating throughout the North and West Shore communities. I feel you, brother, I told him after the workshop (and then tried to get him to join my Tahoe writers group.) His wife shared how her main goal was to go skiing to stay active this year, but now where would she go?

How can we keep Homewood “Home”?

After the announcement to not open the resort this year, many of us were left wondering what to do next. I applaud the TRPA for standing its ground and not approving amendments to JMA/Discovery Land’s plans. But, now how could we take the resort back?

My boyfriend wondered if maybe our property taxes could go towards something like this. I wondered if tourism dollars or grants could go towards keeping Homewood local and open to the public.

Where are our elected officials in all of this, and what do they think? Could Homewood become employee-owned, like Mountain Hardware and Sports?

Or maybe we can pay close attention to what Mount Bachelor Community Inc. is doing in trying to buy back their resort from POWDR Corp.

On Oct. 14, my boyfriend and I hiked to Aloha Lake in the Desolation Wilderness. On our way home while driving along the West Shore, I noticed new condominiums built next to Homewood’s North Lodge where overflow parking used to be.

“They should just put a gate up going across Highway 89 [at the Homewood town sign],” my boyfriend said. “Then no one can ever come in.”

For me, I feel like I have lost my “Home.”