Only a 40-minute drive from Taos, but a world away from adobe, pueblos, and chakra therapy, Red River is the place where families from Texas, Oklahoma, and Louisiana go on drive-to vacations while being surrounded by 70s and 80s ski nostalgia and infrastructure.
It was here that we scored the best conditions of our entire trip: five inches of fresh, impossibly dry powder, which followed seven inches the previous day, and more the day before that – very little of which had been skied. While Red River doesn’t have a reputation for challenging terrain, it has a perfect split of green, blue, and black terrain, including a few steep shots up top and some nice glades about halfway down. The ski area makes no bones about its focus (families and kids), and that’s who you’ll see wedging down the green and blue trails, so if fresh snow is on the menu, you’ll be delighted to see very few other skiers tracking up your spoils just feet from the groomed runs.
Red River’s clientele takes full advantage of the ski area’s primary market differentiator – the lifts are a short walk from virtually any point along the village’s main street. If you’re not happy with the lunch selections at the bottom of the hill, you have no excuse for not walking into town and checking out the restaurants there. The setup is especially helpful for those hoping to get a head start on après-ski festivities.
Juliet had fun working on her face plants:
Interesting how the faded colors from my point-and-shoot camera make me look like I'm skiing in the mid-70s:
On our way to the parking lot, I ran into Red River’s ambassador of skiing Wally Dobbs, who knows everyone and can tell you a million stories about his beloved adopted town. He’s one of those friendly, garrulous types who make you feel like an old friend after talking for 10 minutes. Throughout his long career at Red River that spanned several different job descriptions, including Ski School Director, Marketing Director, and others, Wally’s main responsibility has always been to help people have fun. He takes that task seriously – whether it’s teaching never-evers on their first day, taking skiers to an old mining shack, or riding atop a frozen turkey on Red River’s annual Thanksgiving Day race.
Unfortunately, we couldn’t stick around to sample Red River’s vaunted après-ski scene and see for ourselves if the village’s nickname, “Dead Liver,” was accurate. Still, between the bone-dry powder, bluebird skies, deserted trails, and a brief meeting with Wally, we had a memorable day.
It was here that we scored the best conditions of our entire trip: five inches of fresh, impossibly dry powder, which followed seven inches the previous day, and more the day before that – very little of which had been skied. While Red River doesn’t have a reputation for challenging terrain, it has a perfect split of green, blue, and black terrain, including a few steep shots up top and some nice glades about halfway down. The ski area makes no bones about its focus (families and kids), and that’s who you’ll see wedging down the green and blue trails, so if fresh snow is on the menu, you’ll be delighted to see very few other skiers tracking up your spoils just feet from the groomed runs.
Red River’s clientele takes full advantage of the ski area’s primary market differentiator – the lifts are a short walk from virtually any point along the village’s main street. If you’re not happy with the lunch selections at the bottom of the hill, you have no excuse for not walking into town and checking out the restaurants there. The setup is especially helpful for those hoping to get a head start on après-ski festivities.
Juliet had fun working on her face plants:
Interesting how the faded colors from my point-and-shoot camera make me look like I'm skiing in the mid-70s:
On our way to the parking lot, I ran into Red River’s ambassador of skiing Wally Dobbs, who knows everyone and can tell you a million stories about his beloved adopted town. He’s one of those friendly, garrulous types who make you feel like an old friend after talking for 10 minutes. Throughout his long career at Red River that spanned several different job descriptions, including Ski School Director, Marketing Director, and others, Wally’s main responsibility has always been to help people have fun. He takes that task seriously – whether it’s teaching never-evers on their first day, taking skiers to an old mining shack, or riding atop a frozen turkey on Red River’s annual Thanksgiving Day race.
Unfortunately, we couldn’t stick around to sample Red River’s vaunted après-ski scene and see for ourselves if the village’s nickname, “Dead Liver,” was accurate. Still, between the bone-dry powder, bluebird skies, deserted trails, and a brief meeting with Wally, we had a memorable day.
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, I'd head up to Sandia Peak just to say I hit every northern NM hill in one trip. I've cross-country skied Sandia a bunch of times; does that count?
