I checked my bank account this morning and saw a notification for a five-dollar parking fee at the hill. It feels like we are losing the soul of the valley, one handful of change at a time. I’ve skied here for six seasons, and I’ve never had to pay for the privilege of accessing public snow.

Some people say that five dollars is just the price of a fancy coffee. That’s a false equivalency. A coffee is a beverage that lasts twenty minutes, while a parking spot is a foundational right of a local. If I have to spend five dollars every time I head up for first chair, I’m looking at an extra three hundred dollars a season. That is money that could be going toward my lift ticket, my gas, or the occasional après-ski burrito.

My buddy, Chad “Powder” Miller, agrees. He works nights at the pizza shop and mornings at the hardware store just so he can get his eighty days in. “If we keep nickel-and-diming the people who actually know how to rip the North Bowl, we’re just turning into a gated community for people who wear matching designer parkas,” he told me while we were waiting for his truck to jump-start.

It’s hard to stay positive when the math of living here doesn’t seem to want to add up. I know my truck payment is a little high, but it’s a necessary tool for the lifestyle. We all moved here for the freedom of the mountains. Charging us to park in the dirt feels like an encroachment on that core principle.

I’m going to pay the five dollars, of course, because the snow is just too good to miss. But I’m going to be thinking about it on every single turn.

Rick Tailgate works two jobs, skis 60 days a year, and believes strongly that his lifestyle is sustainable. His truck payment suggests otherwise.