The cutest ski resorts in America – where locals have the slopes to themselves

Far from the glitz of the Alps or Rockies, New Hampshire’s ski scene draws a folksier crowd

It is not the Alps. That much is obvious as I drive along the main street in North Conway. Here, amid picket fences, tiny churches, cafés and general whimsy, New Hampshire has already shown its pretty face, and a taste for yesterday – the antique tracks of the Conway Scenic Railroad running parallel to the Tarmac. I am scarcely 140 miles out of Boston but I seem to have wandered back five decades in my three-hour journey from the airport.
This is just the start. That leafy, fervently rustic version of New England introduces itself fully where Route 16 takes a turn northward, towards Jackson. There, on the right, is the Honeymoon Bridge – one of those classic covered bridges, so beloved of the region. The sort of relic – dating to 1876, in this case – that you cannot quite believe is still part of the infrastructure in 2024: wooden planks creaking under wheels, grimacing at the weight as it carries cars and drivers into this picturesque village. Perhaps it carries them further, into the dim mists of the mid-19th century, so romantic a remnant of another era does it seem.
Route 16 continues on its way undistracted, fighting the angle. Even when it curves, it doesn’t seem to bend from its purpose, forging uphill in generous double lanes. There are no hairpins here, no tailbacks of traffic caught behind a slow driver on the rise to Méribel. No, this is not the Alps. It is the American landscape – in all its pragmatism and majesty.
That majesty is there, particularly, on the west side of the road. Mount Washington is a king among courtiers, holding up its snow-swaddled head as the chieftain of the White Mountains; as the highest mountain in New England, all 1,917m of it. But it has a rival of sorts on the east side of the camber, where Wildcat Mountain rears up with a similar poise. True, it is not quite as mighty, at a “mere” 1,348m – but it is a bluff of visible presence all the same.
Not so majestic, admittedly, that it cannot play nicely. By the time Route 16 is inching through the cutely named pass of Pinkham Notch, Wildcat Mountain is lowering its gaze, coming down to meet the road, and opening its arms to skiers. It doesn’t ease up on the geography, though. Wildcat Mountain Ski Area has the second-largest vertical drop in New Hampshire: a potential plunge of 644m. Size, scale, grandeur. It is all here.
Except that once I turn off the road, it doesn’t really feel that way. As if a curtain has suddenly been drawn across – what appeared widescreen through the windscreen seems much smaller when I kill the engine. There is a little car park, unpaved, rutted and only sparsely dotted with cars, most of them with New Hampshire number plates. There is an unfussy base lodge where I am able to pick up a lift pass in a matter of seconds. And while the café beyond serves a selection of hot meals, a decent number of those eating lunch at its tables are doing so from Tupperware boxes, chewing economically at Thursday evening’s leftover pasta, or pulling cling film from their homemade sandwiches.
No, this is not the Alps. And it is not the Rockies either. Although the Wildcat ski area (as well as its near-neighbour Attitash, 15 miles to the south in Bartlett) has been owned by Vail Resorts since 2019, it has little of the glitz of those big Colorado winter playgrounds.
Nor does it desire it. This is skiing as a local pastime, New Hampshire families popping up for an afternoon on the slopes – paying a visit because they feel like it, because they can, with no more thought devoted to the decision than had they opted to walk the dog instead. Home turf, and a homely vibe. There are no mega hotels; certainly no boisterous après-ski bars – beats pounding out so loudly that you fear the noise will dislodge icicles.
In part, this is down to the safeguarded status of the surrounding scenery; the land on which the ski resort sits is part of the protected expanse of White Mountain National Forest. But it is also just the vibe. Unhurried, unrushed. Everybody seems to tread lightly.
And it is a delight as a result. The ruggedness of the setting means that Wildcat is a sure thing, generally enjoying snow coverage between late November and mid May. But even its impressive vertical height is somewhat tamed by the folksy simplicity of it all. The resort revolves around the main gondola, the Wildcat Express, which ferries every skier to the summit in one swift six-minute ride. A potentially dangerous situation for novices, who have to find a path all the way back down? Not a bit of it. Almost every piste (there are 49 in total; 25 per cent green/beginner, 45 per cent blue/intermediate, 30 per cent black/expert) fans out from the same spot at the top, meandering or arrowing via the appropriate gradients. You make your way down according to your own pace and ability.
As a last dose of “cute”, most of the pistes have feline-themed names: Upper Polecat, Tomcat, Cheetah, Cougar, Bobcat, Copycat, Catnap, Catwalk, Hairball, Cat and Mouse.
I spend the day in their company, swishing down the Polecats (there are Middle and Lower varieties, as well as the Upper) – arriving at the bottom each time to find that there is no queue for the gondola; that I can begin again immediately.
No, it is not the Alps. And New Hampshire seems perfectly happy about it.
While none of New Hampshire’s resorts is likely to detain serious skiers for more than a day at a time, they can be easily combined into a week’s holiday. You might also aim for the following trio – all in the White Mountains, all within a two-hour drive of each other.
Pitched on the “opposite” side of Mount Washington in Carroll, Bretton Woods lacks Wildcat’s vertical height, but can boast more than twice the number of pistes (102). It also has a significant accommodation landmark on its doorstep, the Mount Washington Hotel (omnihotels.com; rooms from £197), a palatial countryside retreat which doubles as the ski resort’s owner. One-day passes cost from £72 (brettonwoods.com).
Wildcat’s colleague – in both the Vail portfolio and White Mountain National Forest – is a kindred spirit. It offers 68 pistes, evenly split between green, blue and black, cut across two mountains (Attitash and Bear Peak). One-day passes start at £81 (attitash.com).
The only New Hampshire ski resort to eclipse Wildcat for vertical height, Loon Mountain (loonmtn.com) sits 60 miles to the south west, in North Woodstock. It stretches 670m from top to bottom, slotting 73 pistes into this space. Day passes cost from £57.
Boston Logan International is the nearest major airport. American Airlines (020 7660 2300; americanairlines.co.uk), British Airways (0344 493 0787; ba.com), Virgin Atlantic (0344 874 7747; virginatlantic.com) and Delta (0871 221 1222; delta.com) offer flights from Heathrow. JetBlue (0808 234 9058; jetblue.com) flies from both Heathrow and Gatwick.
One-day lift passes at Wildcat Mountain (001 603 466 3326; skiwildcat.com) cost from $103 (£81); two-day passes from $176 (£138).
The Glen House (001 603 466 3420; theglenhouse.com), two miles from Wildcat Mountain up Route 16, offers double rooms from £125 a night.

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