It’s not uncommon to hear that once you’ve skied in Alaska, anywhere else is bound to be a letdown. And it’s true that, after hitting slopes all over the world, my first taste of Alaska’s gravity-defying mountains about a decade ago delivered the most epic day of snowboarding I’d ever experienced. But that high came to an abrupt end with a mediocre steak dinner at a Best Western sports bar. Being dropped by helicopter on a knife-edge ridge and carving fresh tracks on pristine 40-degree inclines may have been mind-blowing, but the next year I opted for the Alps.
The apex of big-mountain skiing, the 49th state should be on every enthusiast’s go-now list. Yet for many snow-obsessed travelers, an ideal day requires more than steep runs and deep powder. They want creature comforts off the slopes—and Alaska was hardly Aspen or Gstaad. The dining was uninspired and the lodgings often a communal situation that could feel like a frat party after a few hours of après ski.