Book Review: Chris Diamond’s Journey In The Ski Resort Business
SKI, INC.—Chasing The Dream All Career Long.
For anyone who came up through skiing in the 1960s and 1970s, a new book chronicling the career of Chris Diamond, a ski resort management legend, SKI INC. provides the quintessential insider’s look at what chasing the dream of working in the ski business was really like.
From being an assistant to the president of Killington in 1972, Chris Diamond went on to Mount Snow, which Killington had acquired in 1977, as VP and GM, then president. From 1994 to 1996 he served as the vice president for business development and president of the Vermont resorts for S-K-I Ltd., Killington and Mount Snow’s corporate parent.
He became president of Steamboat under Les Otten’s American Skiing Company (ASC) in 1999, where he continued under owner Intrawest until retiring in June 2015.
Having worked for the first three largest ski conglomerates — S-K-I Ltd, ASC, and Intrawest — it occurred to Diamond that he had had an unusual experience, which caused him to write SKI INC. My journey through four decades in the ski-resort business, from the founding entrepreneurs to mega companies.
His comments as to the challenges, mistakes, and bright spots provide a fascinating backstory for those of us who experienced skiing’s amazing history — like Mount Snow’s “clickety clack” chairlifts dripping grease — while his look at some of skiing’s key personalities, resorts, and organizations is as enlightening as it is entertaining.
This is the first book of its kind and is notable for Diamond’s insights as to what has and has not worked as well as his prognostications for the future.
Regarding his Vermont years, Diamond writes: “Looking back at these early experiences at Killington and Mount Snow, there is one clear regret I have relative to their status today as regional resorts versus ‘what might have been.’ While the outside perception of the ski business insists that the core financial driver is real estate, nothing could be further from the truth. Well-run resorts make money on operations. That said, real estate is very important for destination ski resorts in that it can support or enable the strategic vision.”
Explaining that skier demands have changed since the 1970s, Diamond bemoans the lack of modern base villages at Mount Snow and Killington, opining the resorts are at a competitive disadvantage that has caused their skier visits to be off former records. “No other major area in the country has seen that happen,” he said in an interview, expressing regret that “windows of opportunity to reset the base areas” at the resorts were missed.
While Diamond praises ASC founder Les Otten for his many contributions to skiing, he laments the spending spree that cost Otten his company and made Diamond’s job at Steamboat a nightmare of sorts. He explains Steamboat’s revival under new owner Intrawest, providing a look at what was then North America’s largest ski conglomerate until the bottom fell out of real estate.
Having known the players at Vail Resorts, Diamond also offers an analysis of their success, including ramifications of the Epic Pass and his view “it’s just a matter of time” before Vail enters the Northeastern market.
SKI INC. is great reading for anyone interested in how the ski industry has gotten to where it is today and its future; available through skidiamondconsulting.com and at Amazon.com.
From Level 30-Level 71: A Skier’s Journey Through Time
How “Moving Up The Levels” Kept Changing This Skier’s Style.

Correspondent Marc Liebman might have indulged in this risky technique when he was Level 30. Now, not so much.
Kids and millennials often brag about getting to level 4 or 5 on a video game. To relate, I tell them I’m level 71 as in seventy-one years old. What I ski and how I ski has changed as I’ve moved up levels. For the record, I’m a former ski instructor certified in two countries, ski tester and racer.
Back in the good old days when I was Level 30, I skied anything and everything—the steeper and more difficult the conditions, the better. Blue ice that turned a narrow trail into a skating rink was viewed as a challenge to demonstrate my edge holding skills.
By the time, I got to Level 40, maturity started to set in. A short ski was still 203cm long. Blue ice was avoided whenever possible. My skiing ego was maintained with a low-single digit NASTAR handicap!
Level 50 was a revelation. Mashed potatoes, wet soggy spring and late fall snow was no longer skied. Thirty thousand vertical feet a day was still the goal. Reflexes and strength weren’t what they used to be so I skied a lot slower. I called it “instructor demonstration speed!” Skiing a long bump run well was still a joy, but only once a day because it took way too much out of my legs. More wasn’t worth the aches and pains from my knees. Tucking flat spots became a thing of the past! It wasn’t getting into the tuck that was a problem, it was getting up after more than 30 seconds.
Glades with closely spaced trees drove caution at Level 60. Rather than plunge right in making quick, tight turns around the trees, I’d look before going to another trail. Yes, I’d slowed up and open groomed runs became the order of the day. Yet, when powder beckoned, I couldn’t resist. Moguls were skied (a) out of necessity; (b) just to do a few to stay in practice; or (c) to show younger skiers that us oldsters can still ski bumps.
At Level 70, I started to feel the cold. Solution: ski in warmer parts the country. And, despite exercise and stretching, I’m a lot less flexible. Getting a pair of ski boots on and off is a whole lot more difficult than I remembered. But then again, my memory isn’t what it used to be. And, after the rare fall, I’m no longer ashamed to stick my hand out for assistance.
So, at Level 71, I ski steep (the steeper the better) groomed runs, powder and love to carve on frozen granular. The goal is 30,000 vertical feet a day made easier to document using apps on a smart phone. Occasionally, I’ll let the skis run but when I start going fast, fear takes hold, and I slow down. At this level, one doesn’t break, one shatters!
Net, net, for all of you who haven’t yet reached Level 71, keep skiing. We can still show the young’uns we can keep up.
How To Get Several Days From Your Shake-Em-Up Hand Warmers
Use These Two Sneaky Tips.
The air-activated hand warmers keep your fingers toasty while you ski. Even when your legs fall off, your hand warmers keep going.
Then what do you do with them? They have a lot of heat left.
I used to give them away in the locker room. People would snap them up for themselves or their kids.
Tip #1. Here’s how to save them.
I discovered I can keep them until the next day and sometimes several days by wrapping them tightly in Saran wrap or other generic plastic wrap.
Mummy them up tightly in about 2 feet of plastic wrap until you can no longer feel the heat coming through.
The wrap cuts off the air, and they go dormant. Reactivate them by unwrapping them and shaking as usual. Roll the plastic wrap onto a tube and reuse it another day.
The up side is you can save and reuse hand warmers for several days. The down side is that sometimes it just doesn’t work.
Experiments 101
Plastic baggies don’t work. Even if you squish really well, there’s still too much air left inside. Aluminum foil doesn’t seem to work, but I don’t know why. Use plastic wrap.
Tip #2. Before you buy.
Before you buy a stockpile of hand warmers, check the expiration date. It should be several years into the future—not next year. Hand warmers close to their expiration date often have less oomph.
On the other hand, you might discover hand warmers long past their expiration date that have been buried in your ski bag for years. And they might work very well. Just don’t count on it on a sub-zero day.
To read more from Harriet click here for her stories on SkiUtah.
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