My Experience Riding the Little Cottonwood Gondola

..this only made me wonder if our legislators were also deceived given they voted to spend our taxpayer money on this, or if they were part of the deception all along.

Chapter 1: Getting to the Gondola Parking Garage

Chapter 2: Two-Hour Wait Time to Board the Gondola?

Chapter 3: Now We Have a Gondola ‘and’ The Red Snake!

Chapter 4: What About The Snow Sheds?

Chapter 5: My Very Short Ski Day

Chapter 6: It's only 3:00 but I better start the expedition home

Chapter 1: Getting to the gondola parking garage

Last Saturday, I decided to go skiing at Snowbird because we received a nice shot of new snow the previous night. I knew Little Cottonwood would be jam-packed with powder hounds, and I was not sure if it would be faster to drive up the canyon or attempt to ride the new highly touted gondola. Taking the bus was off the table since all UTA canyon services had been discontinued when they put in the gondola. Still pondering my options, I loaded up my gear and hopped into my car with the full excitement of getting in some fresh powder turns. It was a crisp morning as the storm clouds had given way to a perfect bluebird sky. It had been a long work week, and I needed this day. I headed out of my driveway and cranked up the volume with my favorite skiing playlist. It is normally just a quick 10-minute drive to get to the mouth of Little Cottonwood Canyon from my house. As I got closer to the mouth, however, the traffic came to a standstill. I was swiftly reminded that whether I chose to drive up the canyon or take the gondola, everyone intending to ascend Little Cottonwood Canyon still had to navigate their private vehicles through the Sandy City or Cottonwood Heights neighborhoods, ultimately converging at the mouth of the canyon.

After the long crawl heading east up 9400 South in the stop-and-go traffic, I finally made it to one of the canyon choke points at the lights at Wasatch Blvd. Now I had to commit to a decision—continue driving up the canyon in my car, or attempt to turn left and head down Wasatch Boulevard to the gondola parking garage. There was a solid line of cars backed up to the gondola parking garage. Others shared my hopes of a quick gondola ride up the canyon and I feared the garage might fill up before I got there.

For a moment, I contemplated the toll required for driving up the canyon compared to the fare for riding the gondola. UDOT had determined early in the gondola planning phase that they would impose a toll for driving up the canyon, set higher than the gondola fee, to incentivize people to opt for the gondola over their cars. A major goal and selling point to build the gondola was the target of taking 30% of the cars off the canyon road to solve the winter ski traffic problem. At this point of my Saturday Snowbird commute, my goal was to just get up there as quickly as possible to get in a full day of skiing. Saturday is the one consistent day I get into the mountains, and I was not about to waste any of it if I could help it. On top of that, I had already invested so much money between my ski equipment and my IKON pass that the small cost difference to drive up versus ride the gondola honestly did not even factor in. What good was all that investment if my ski day got cut short?

Mulling it all over in my head, I remembered the slick Gondola Works ads on television touting that the gondola ride to Snowbird was only 27 minutes, or 37 minutes to Alta, floating swiftly above all the canyon traffic. It was hard to argue with the image of those marketing campaigns, so I decided to give the gondola a shot and get my ski day going. I aggressively fought my way out of the right lane of traffic and into the left turn lane before the traffic lights to get to the gondola parking structure. Others were struggling to make this same last-minute decision, as many cars jockeyed between lanes as they approached Wasatch Blvd. I am a solid driver, but I will admit that maneuvering going on at that intersection was a bit terrifying.

It was stop-and-go traffic once on Wasatch Blvd to get to the gondola parking garage entrance down past LaCaille. At 8:15, I finally pulled into the garage. There was a second steady stream of cars entering the garage from the Little Cottonwood Canyon Road entrance. After creeping past one full parking stall after another and now circling up past the 4th level, I found the garage was already near capacity. This was crunch time as everyone wanted to be at the resorts as close as possible to 9:00 when the lifts opened. This is a fact we are all well aware of after years and years of witnessing the predictable timing of cars backed up, forming the famous red snake of tail lights down the canyon, spewing exhaust well into the neighborhoods. Now, with the gondola parking garage situated right at the mouth of the canyon, and the additional lanes added to Wasatch Boulevard, there were even more cars stacked up and idling in the neighborhoods.

I finally found an open parking stall when I hit the 6th floor. Thank God my gamble paid off. Being in this massive garage gave me the same anxiety as that rushed feeling you get when trying to park at the airport while anticipating security lines that might make you miss your flight. This thought of the airport security line got me thinking about the actual line I might find to board the gondola once I made my way to the loading dock. The touted 27-minute gondola ride to Snowbird did not sound so bad in the slick Gondola Works advertisements, but before this moment, it never crossed my mind how much additional time I would spend standing in line to board the gondola once I had managed to park in the garage.

Now tucked into a coveted parking spot, I began to unload my ski gear and backpack. Normally when I drive to the resorts, I leave my backpack with food, drinks, and extra layers in my car so I can adjust clothing as the conditions change during the day. But now I realized I would need to carry everything up with me on the gondola and then find a day locker at Snowbird to stash my stuff. As I set my ski boots down on the pavement next to my backpack, skis, helmet, and poles, it all looked like way too much to carry on a crowded gondola cabin. I am very familiar with the short 10-minute ride up the tram at Snowbird—packed in like cattle, everyone’s ski tips dangerously close to hitting you in the face. But this gondola ride was going to be 27 minutes long. That’s like having to ride the tram up, back down, and then back up again without stopping. How would I even carry my boots along with the rest of my stuff? I quickly decided to put my ski boots on and just wear them to reduce my carry load. Hang on feet… it’s going to be a long day!

I glanced over at a family of 4 parked next to me as I buckled my boots, going through the same song and dance as me. Their pile of gear was impressive, and their kids could barely carry their skis, never mind their boots. Yikes, this is going to be a long day for them. I taught my daughters to ski over 20 years ago when we could just drive to the resorts with all our gear in the back of the car, while our kids napped on the ride up and down the canyon. Times have changed, and I admired what this family was doing to give their kids the experience of the mountains and felt extremely lucky for having had access to the Cottonwoods and a very different mountain experience before the advent of multi-resort ski passes and massive population growth in Utah.

I slung my backpack over one shoulder, my skis over the other, and made my way to the escalators to get down from the 6th floor to the gondola loading floor. Once again, I remembered scenes from the Gondola Works advertisements and envisioned people grabbing a coffee from the concessions stand, casually stepping onto a gondola cabin, and then enjoying a peaceful spacious ride up the canyon. But what I saw as the escalator delivered me to the loading floor proved to be an entirely different reality. Hundreds upon hundreds of people stood in a massive line waiting to board the gondola. The sheer scope of people queuing up into one single line was indescribable. Anxiety instantly came over me as I wiped my eyes to try to clear my previous visions of the airport security lines and their unpredictable delay-causing nature.

Chapter 2: Two-Hour Waiting Time to Board the Gondola?

This was a complete nightmare! It felt akin to trying to attend a Jazz game with only one entrance to the stadium. I promptly joined the back of the line as the escalators continued to funnel a steady stream of people behind me, forming an ever-growing queue.

I noticed a small sign a few feet from me that read, “2-hour wait time from this point to board the gondola.” Are you kidding me? I had a flashback of seeing similar signs while waiting to get on rides at Disneyland and that apprehension of my kids having a complete meltdown because of the long wait. I rationalized that maybe the gondola had a mechanical issue earlier causing this issue today. After all, this is a public transportation system, not an amusement ride.

With my anxiety spiking, I nervously struck up a conversation with a random guy next to me in line. He appeared annoyingly calm and unsurprised by the chaotic situation. As I expressed my disbelief at the scene unfolding before us, we quickly fell into a conversation about the UDOT Environmental Impact Statement (EIS) and the resulting Record of Decision (ROD). It became apparent to me, as I would discover later today, that these documents were seemingly crafted from the outset to ensure that the gondola was the option selected to attempt to tackle the Little Cottonwood Canyon winter traffic issues.

I remember years back when the EIS was underway and UDOT was considering how to solve the weekend winter canyon traffic problems. There were so many public comments about the project that it prompted me to read some of UDOT’s EIS public documentation, but it was so long and convoluted that I could not make any real sense of it. I was not alone, though, as it seemed our entire state was confused and/or outraged about the prospect of the gondola based on the tens of thousands of public comments UDOT received on the project, with a majority of the public being against the gondola. It was hard to trust almost anything you read in the newspapers or social media. However, there were some people out there who dedicated enough time and patience to uncover the veiled truths concealed within the hundreds of pages of UDOT’s EIS documents. Fortunately, this guy standing next to me in line happened to be one of them. This was a good thing because, at this point, I had a lot of questions.

Our conversation awkwardly began with my distress regarding the wait time to board the gondola, but that was all it took for this guy to unveil his knowledge of the EIS.

"Are you not surprised and outraged by what is going on here?" I asked.

He shrugged and reminded me that the gondola garage can hold 2,500 cars, and on average, there are 2 people per car. So, a full garage means that at least 5,000 people need to board the gondola. And with buses and private vehicles also dropping people off at the parking garage, that number of people is well over 5,000.

"Okay," I said to him, "but all these people arrive at the garage at slightly different times, and I do recall from the EIS documents that UDOT claimed that it would only take 12 minutes from the time you park in the garage to the time you would board the gondola. It took me thirty minutes just to park and walk to this line, and now I have to wait 2 more hours just to board the gondola. This doesn’t make any sense!"

He told me that the 12-minute boarding time stated in all the UDOT documentation was based on a study commissioned by UDOT that’s more representative of times when the gondola is not busy. "Naturally, on the weekdays," he said, "there is normal canyon traffic flow and people will just drive up and not take the extra time to stop and transfer to the gondola where they will likely need to stand on their feet for their commute. Those who do opt to ride the gondola on those free-flowing traffic days would have a better chance to make the transfer from their car to the gondola in the stated 12 minutes.

"So on most days, the traffic is free-flowing, and there is no need for the gondola?" I questioned.

"Correct," he said. Then he went on to tell me that according to UDOT, the purpose and needs of the project were for a solution to resolve the canyon traffic problem that happens only 30-50 days of the winter, i.e., weekends and powder days. "So, on a busy Saturday, like today," he said, "especially right after a big snow, you will find a full gondola parking garage and subsequently much longer boarding wait times than the advertised 12 minutes."

I shook my head in disbelief. "I get the wait being longer than 12 minutes, but two hours!?" I protested. "I clearly remember UDOT saying over and over again that the gondola cabins hold up to 35 people and that a cabin arrives every 2 minutes! Back before the gondola was built when UTA provided frequent ski buses, the lines to get on the buses were never remotely close to this. Those buses may have held more people than a gondola cabin, but there was only a bus every 15 to 30 minutes."

I turned to him, frustration evident in my voice. "If the gondola cabins hold 35 people and come every two minutes, the wait time shouldn’t be 2 hours."

"You’re missing an important point," he said, "but you’re not alone. This is something that UDOT, let's just say, quietly glossed over when they recommended the gondola over expanding the bus service, and it has to do with transportation nodes. You see, the more nodes there are in a transportation system, the less traffic congestion to get to the node and the shorter the transfer wait time to get on the actual transportation mode. However, any public transportation system confined to a single node will quickly fail when demand is high.

"Nodes? Modes? Transfer wait times? What are you even talking about?" I asked. Now you sound like a technical document from the EIS documentation.

"Sorry,” he said. “Think of it this way. When people drive their cars, their car is the transportation mode, and their driveway is their transportation node. When you want to go somewhere in your car, you simply walk out of your house, get in your car, and drive away with no waiting. All you need to concern yourself with is how long it will take to drive to your destination, and where you are going to park once you get there. So, for personal vehicles, there are hundreds of thousands of nodes all across the Salt Lake Valley that involve zero transfer waiting times to get onto the transportation mode.”

“For public transportation,” he went on, “the nodes, which are where you can get on a particular transportation mode, are reduced to selected areas. So, when people have to drive somewhere to access a public transportation system, this introduces what is referred to as transfer wait time. That is, the time it takes to park your car and then wait to get onto the public transportation mode, which is added to your total travel time."

"That makes sense," I said. "I can easily picture what you are talking about when it comes to buses and trains. With public transportation, like a bus, the more buses and bus stops there are, the shorter the transfer wait time to get on a bus because you spread everybody out across multiple boarding locations. But how does this all translate to this gondola and UDOT’s calculation of a 12-minute transfer time?"

"Here’s the catch with the gondola," he explained, and it all has to do with what the gondola is being used for and the fact that it can only ever have one node. As I mentioned earlier, according to the UDOT EIS, only the 30-50 busiest days of winter are deemed by UDOT to require a solution like a gondola. That directed the focus of their environmental impact study. For the majority of winter, Little Cottonwood Canyon Road experiences no traffic issues, rendering the gondola unnecessary, and some would say wasteful as it still needs to operate during these periods; albeit with minimal passengers.”

“And on the busy days?” I asked.

“The issue for the gondola,” he said. “is the traffic congestion it was intended to alleviate, you know, the famous red snake, is caused by skiers commuting to Alta and Snowbird on busy ski days. Predictably, these are now the times and days when the gondola experiences significant crowds. These very compressed windows of high demand pose a unique problem for the gondola as a means of public transportation. This problem is exacerbated by the fact that the gondola is confined to a single node, inherently restricting its ability to efficiently handle large crowds during peak periods of demand. Furthermore, with no restrictions on the number of cars allowed in the canyon by UDOT, the effectiveness of the gondola as a solution to the intended problem it was designed to address is further undermined.

I just stood there in awe as this guy began to quickly unwind my years of confusion and suspicion regarding the gondola. There was so much focus and discussion years back about who would pay for this thing given its massive price tag and the fact it was only serving two private businesses. What I just came to realize is that amidst everything else, the known facts of the commuting patterns of the visitors to those two private ski resorts got lost in the mix. Skiing and riding at a resort requires significant financial and time commitment. It is not like taking a jog for some quick outdoor exercise during a short break in the work day. As a result, everyone relying on this single-node gondola plans to use it during the same limited morning and evening time slots, mainly on weekends when time-consuming leisure activities are at their peak.

The unfortunate hindsight is that as cool as the gondola sounded years ago when proposed, it could never work for the reasons defined in UDOT’s EIS and ROD. That just leaves us with this massively intrusive fixed transportation system that has permanently diminished the natural splendor of this canyon. Sadly, it can never be relocated to adapt to evolving public transportation needs across our state like we do with buses.

“Are you ok?”, my new friend asked me. “You look like you saw a ghost.”

“I’m fine,” I said. “It’s more like I just mentally woke up.”

He proceeded to conclude his thoughts. “To answer your initial question, the predictable timing of the massive ski resort-bound crowds attempting to ride the gondola, and its single node design, all but guarantee we might find ourselves in a two-hour line to board the gondola." Gesturing towards the growing line behind us, he continued, "And for each person in that direction, the wait only gets longer.”

I looked back where he was pointing and nodded my head, "Yeah, now I get this node thing. It makes me think of what the Snowbird tram line would be like if Snowbird didn’t have any other chairlifts. If Snowbird only had the tram, and no other lifts, that single-node system would be the end of them. It just would not work."

He smiled at me, "Now you’re getting the picture."

By this time, I could feel my legs beginning to tire and pain in my feet. I realized we had been standing in line for an hour as we were now next to a sign that read, "1-hour wait time from this point to board the gondola". My ski boots are pretty comfortable when I am skiing, but I have always hated just standing in them.

“How could UDOT and our legislators who voted to fund this thing have not anticipated this?" I asked, gesturing to the sheer mass of people we were looking at throughout the boarding area. "There had to have been something else going on that was kept from the public."

My line buddy chuckled. I had a feeling he wasn’t making fun of me though; it was more as though he understood how I hadn’t been able to see the big picture until I was standing in this line experiencing it first-hand. It now felt like the complexity of the entire UDOT process had encouraged the noise necessary to keep everyone divided to keep us arguing one side or the other versus coming together to see the forest through the trees. UDOT begged the public for comments while simultaneously mocking us with their stance that while we could comment all we wanted, we had no vote in what solution they decided to recommend for funding. “Typical politics," I trailed off in despair.

Now understanding that the gondola operates with a single node and must accommodate over 5,000 individuals seeking transportation up the canyon in the morning and back down in the afternoon during the same time windows, I realized that the key factor is the relationship between the total number of passengers and the gondola's maximum hourly capacity to transport people up the canyon.

This prompted me to immediately ask my new friend if UDOT had to define the gondola hourly capacity during the EIS, and if so if they had to adhere to those specs when they built this thing.

“Absolutely,” he told me. “UDOT was very clear that the environmental impacts to the canyon they studied during the EIS period were specific to a gondola with the capacity to move 1,050 people per hour up or down the canyon to take 30% of the cars off the road. What you would not have found in all their documentation or any Gondola Works advertisement, however, was the direct correlation between that capacity number and just how long the transfer wait times would be on busy days.

“Let me guess,” I said. “this would have exposed that it takes over 5 hours to move a full garage of people up the canyon, and another 5 hours to move them back down.”

“Bingo,” he said. He went on to tell me that many of the comments submitted during the EIS public comment period did question UDOT’s stated 12-minute transfer wait time.”

“And how did they respond to those direct questions'?” I asked.

“UDOT’s stock response to boarding wait times,” he said, “was merely redirecting to the facts that gondola is designed to hold up to 35 people per cabin and that a cabin arrives every two minutes. While that is true, as you have now figured out, it is irrelevant. What is relevant is the timing of over 5,000-weekend skiers wanting to ride a single-node transportation system that can move 1,050 people up the canyon per hour.

On that note, my head was about to explode, as was my bladder from our time standing in line. “Would you mind holding my spot in line while I run to the bathroom?” I asked my UDOT EIS know-it-all friend.

“Sure,” he said. “But bring your skis and poles with you. I can’t hold all your stuff along with mine.”

As I left for the bathroom, I immediately began to apply the math to the factual information I had just learned. When the gondola garage is full it would take over 10 hours to move everyone in the parking garage up and down the canyon. That seemed incomprehensible when its purpose, at least the purpose defined by the EIS was to transport people trying to go skiing on the busiest ski days.

“The gondola looks like it moves pretty fast to me,” I prodded my friend as soon as I returned from the bathroom.

“You bet it does,” he told me. “The entire system is over 8 miles long so it has to run fast to be able to hit the 1,050 people per hour capacity.”

“Oh, I do remember that this was touted as the longest gondola in the world. I always wondered why so many people seemed to think that was such a cool thing.” I mused. “So how long do you figure it will realistically take to move this full garage of people up and down the canyon today?” I asked.

“The simple math is 10 hours,” he snapped back with no hesitation.  “There is no way around that when the garage is full.  To put that in perspective, if the gondola begins to run at 7:00 AM it will take 4 hours and 45 minutes to board all 5,000 people and then an additional 37 minutes for the ride to Alta. The last guy arriving at this garage cannot physically get to Alta until after 12:15 PM. And if all these people start getting in line to ride the gondola back home starting at 3:00 from the two resorts, the last person cannot physically get back to this parking garage from Alta until after 8:00 tonight!”

"People will wait in this line for varying durations," he contemplated. “Some will get to the garage long before the gondola opens to be near the front of the line and will add time to their commute by waiting for the gondola to open while the line forms behind them. Others will get here at the most popular window of time of the morning, just like we both did today, and will find longer wait times. Still, others might choose to sacrifice part of their ski day and show up later after the lines die down to avoid standing for hours. It is the same pattern we have seen with the canyon traffic over the last ten-plus years. The public’s desire to get the most skiing for the shortest commute time has not changed.”

“What if every gondola cabin does not leave the loading dock 100% full with 35 people?” I hesitantly asked already knowing the answer.

"It just keeps pushing out the best-case scenario of ten-plus hours to complete the task of moving everyone up and down the canyon," he said.

I had to process what I was hearing. It became clear to me that there was a motive for both UDOT and Gondola Works to deceive the public by only emphasizing the time it takes to ride to the resorts once on the gondola while downplaying the boarding wait time and ignoring the nightmare of consolidating private vehicles into the mouth of the canyon to access a single node transportation system. The simplicity of this only made me wonder if our legislators were also deceived given they voted to spend our taxpayer money on this, or if they were part of the deception all along.

These thoughts prompted me to ask my friend why UDOT did not complete their EIS for a gondola with a capacity larger than 1,050 people per hour. I had heard the gondola they chose could be built to move more people per hour than what UDOT approved in their final EIS, and this would have helped with these massive lines.

Again my new friend got an amused look on his face, as if by this point he expected me to arrive at the right questions to ask. “The Little Cottonwood Canyon road was built for a capacity of 1,000 cars per hour,” he said. “By limiting the Gondola design to 1,050 people per hour in the EIS, they avoided the exposure around the need to include a canyon carrying capacity study as part of their environmental impact study. Keeping the gondola capacity similar to existing road capacity made it appear that the number of people going up the canyon would be status quo.”

“But it is not!” I responded sharply. “We already discussed that there are no restrictions on how many people can still drive up the canyon road. There are only small financial incentives to get people to ride the gondola versus driving up. With the current demand in the canyon and the anticipated growth, the gondola did not keep the canyon use status quo. The gondola increased the capacity to move more bodies up the canyon by creating a second corridor up the canyon!”

“My, aren’t we gaining some new insight,” he said now with a slight hint of pride on his face.

“Pick your poison,” he then said. “On a busy day, you now get to choose between sitting in your car for a congested drive up the canyon or making an even longer commute to and from the resorts all while standing on your feet.”

He then looked down at my feet as his expression of pride changed to that of sympathy. “You might want to reconsider carrying your ski boots next time you ride the gondola.”

Chapter 3: Now We Have a Gondola ‘and’ The Red Snake!

 Now fully depressed, I was wishing I was sitting in my car in the red snake, wearing my soft shoes, listening to some tunes, and sipping coffee. Oh yeah, I thought. What about the red snake? This guy reminded me that the recommendation for this gondola in UDOT’s Record of Decision, and the decision by our legislators to spend over a billion dollars of our taxpayer money on this gondola was supposed to take 30% of the cars off the road on busy days. And right then it dawned on me: this is one of those busy weekend days with a full gondola garage. That means if our legislators made the right decision to fund this thing, the road should have 30% less traffic today and be moving right along with no problem. Snap! I should have driven today! I’m wasting time standing in this line while everyone is taking a 20-minute drive up the canyon. The only thing that kept me from poking my eye out with my ski pole at that moment was that I was now finally getting close to boarding the thing. It was almost time for my big Disney ride and I am fantasizing about getting one of those seats in a gondola cabin and getting off of my feet!

My anticipation grew as I approached the loading dock and I was just about the last person to step on my gondola cabin as the door shut behind me. I looked at the few people with envy who got one of the limited seats as the vast majority of us were standing; still standing. Now seeing the scene in the cabin it was clear that the only way to fit 35 people holding all of their gear was by having most people stand up to take up less space. This was far from the image shown in the Gondola Works ads.

Then the next reality of my day sunk in. My feet, back, and legs were already hurting from standing in line in my forward-leaning ski boots for 2 hours. Although I was finally on the ride, I still had to stand for another 27 minutes to get up to Snowbird. I had already concluded that I wouldn’t be riding the tram at Snowbird today. No way would I be standing up in that thing after all this when I could sit in a chairlift and rest my legs and feet between runs.

Now that I was actually on my first gondola ride, I had to admit I was looking forward to seeing first-hand what the road down below me looked like, and if the gondola was a success in solving the traffic issue it was intended to fix. Luckily, with my face smashed against the gondola window, I had a good view on the ride up. The people mashed in the middle of the gondola cabin were doing the all-too-familiar thing you see on a packed Snowbird Tram as they stared at their ski tips and hoped the guy next to them would quit coughing. I got situated as we shot out of the bottom terminal for flight, and I began to scan the canyon road below in anticipation of seeing free-flowing traffic.

What the &$#!

The red snake was in full form! I immediately looked around the gondola cabin for the knowledgeable guy I had been talking to for the last 2 hours. I never did get his name, but I spotted him standing close by. I yelled out, “Hey! Hey!”

When he turned and caught my eye I said, “You told me the UDOT chose the gondola as the best option to resolve traffic congestion in the canyon. The gondola garage is maxed out today, yet the traffic looks like it always has on a bluebird Saturday before the gondola was even built?!”

“Well,” he said followed by a long pause while looking annoyed that we were now talking across other people, “that was the story that UDOT put forward to get the public on board and to get the gondola option funded. As you have already come to realize today, back when the EIS was finalized, the weekend demand to recreate at Alta and Snowbird far surpassed what the road was built to support. And the growth in the canyons we were all told would be coming was not just a projection, it was ordained. The ski resorts have never-ending corporate pressure to grow revenue year over year to satisfy their investors, which in turn drives their heavy marketing efforts. Additionally, the state of Utah put a bullseye on our watershed canyons as the place to grow tourism dollars, backed by the marketing efforts of Ski Utah. Efforts like this behind the scenes all but ensured that more bodies would be funneled into the Cottonwood Canyons. And what you probably did not know was that UDOT had also documented outside of the EIS that when transportation capacity is increased, it unleashes more demand, both latent and induced demand.

“So the plan all along for the gondola,” I asked, “was really to enable more people up the canyon on any given day, and not to resolve the amount of carbon-puking cars clogging the canyon road?”

"I’ll let you answer that one for yourself," he hesitated, "but I will say this: any UDOT project with a purpose and needs statement stating something like that in the EIS would have all but ensured that UDOT would have been required to complete a proper canyon-carrying capacity study. Secondly, the implementation of a gondola would have required actual restrictions of private vehicles in the canyon to succeed in reducing the traffic congestion."

Holy crap, I grasped, the gondola did not take cars off of the road, it just added more people in the canyon! Adding more people in the canyon was NOT part of UDOT’s stated purpose and needs for the project, and subsequently was NOT part of the environmental studies done during the UDOT EIS period. Selfishly, my thoughts turned to what this would mean for crowds at the ski resorts, and more importantly, to my ski day which was quickly turning into a half-ski day. With the gondola now enabling 5,000+ people a day up the canyon, in addition to the existing unrestricted capacity of the road, what are the lift lines going to look like? This was becoming overwhelming. I am seriously screwing up my mood. I can’t let these thoughts ruin my entire day off. Live in the moment, John, I said to myself. Soon you will be skiing. And not only skiing but the morning after a fresh Wasatch dump!

Chapter 4: What About The Snow Sheds?

Normally on the busy weekends, I would have headed out to go ski touring versus resort skiing. But today the avalanche hazard was high, and I am lucky enough to live close to the Cottonwood canyons where I can enjoy the proximity of world-class resort skiing when the backcountry poses too much danger for my risk tolerance. And lo and behold, just as I was thinking about the risks of ski touring, my gondola cabin was flying over the renowned White Pine avalanche slide paths. They must have ripped out big in the early morning when UDOT conducted avalanche mitigation work. These chutes are one of the major culprits for shutting down travel on Little Cottonwood Canyon. But today was different. Back before the gondola was built, during the implementation of phase II of the LCC EIS, UDOT put a couple of snow sheds over the road below the most predominant slide paths that caused most of the road closures. Looking at the size of this slide, today would have been one of those days the road would have been closed. However, today the cars were putting along up the road through the snow shed tunnels right under the avalanche debris. The snow sheds were working just as advertised, and I was getting to witness a bird’s eye view of it. Finally, my first smile of the day. This was pretty awesome. This brought my thoughts back to some of the UDOT EIS facts my new friend had been spouting off in the gondola queue back in the parking garage.

I beckoned back to him for the second time as we floated over the canyon thinking I should really ask him his name. “Yo! Yo! Aren’t some of the traffic issues that the gondola was supposed to solve include road closures from avalanche debris?” “That’s right,” he said. “Sometimes natural avalanches can cross the road, but most of the time it is a direct result of UDOT’s avalanche mitigation work.” “Well then,” I said as I pointed out the window, “what about those snow sheds? It looks to me that they have enabled the road to stay open today.” “Well, you are certainly right about that,” he said. “But that’s no surprise. Through the EIS process, UDOT concluded that the snow sheds would cut the annual average hourly road closures down from 56 hours a year to 11 hours a year.” “If that is true,” I said, “then wouldn’t the canyon road closures have been overstated by not considering the effectiveness of the snow sheds?” “Well, technically you are right,” he said. “And you are seeing that firsthand today. The snow sheds have kept the road open after avalanches several times already this winter. They have certainly helped increase reliability, safety, and mobility on the road.”

“Additionally,” he said, “UDOT has deployed lots of remote avalanche control systems (RACS) above many of the slide paths that can cause road closures. Before these were added, avalanche mitigation work was performed less often because it meant shutting down both the road and the gondola to shoot live artillery rounds over the road from their howitzer guns. Less frequent mitigation meant more buildup of snow between mitigation efforts that resulted in larger avalanches which had a better chance to cross the road and cause yet more closures. With the growth of RAC systems in the canyon, UDOT can now release the snow more often before it has a chance to form a deeper unstable snowpack and with greater control of the avalanche release from the safety of a remote location such as a computer system or smartphone. This consistent and frequent reduction of snow buildup has provided more reliability, safety, and mobility on the road that was not considered when the gondola got funded.”

"Why in the world would the witnessed benefits of both the RACS and snow sheds have not been considered when it came time to appropriate over a billion dollars for this gondola?" I asked.

"What you need to recall," he said, "is that our legislators went ahead and made a decision to approve the funding for the gondola before Phase II was even completed when they would have been able to see these anticipated results. Although UDOT’s Final EIS recommended a phased approach leading up to the gondola as part of Phase 3, there was nothing in there that defined the success of Phase 1 or Phase 2 that could have eliminated the need to spend over a billion dollars on the gondola. And there was nothing in the EIS stopping our legislator from appropriating the funds for the Phase 3 gondola before Phase 1 and Phase 2 were even started. Not waiting to see the effectiveness of phase II of the EIS and the RACS was simply done to help them justify the gondola."

And with that answer, my first smile of the day fell off my face like a cornice dropping off a windblown ridge.

Chapter 5: My Very Short Ski Day

Shortly after that depressing conversation ended, I could see we were getting closer to the end of our ride up the canyon. I glanced at my watch and was now comprehending the time commitment to ride this gondola. After leaving my house early this morning to fight the traffic into the base of the canyon, followed by a frenzy to get into the gondola parking structure, it was already 8:30 when I finally got into the line to board the gondola. Now after standing on my feet for 2 ½ hours, I was finally arriving at Snowbird and it was now 11:00. I have already lost two hours of the ski day and am not even in a lift line yet. Worse yet, I was already being forced to consider if I should cut my ski day even shorter to avoid the unimaginable gondola line I will surely face at the end of the day when I will have to repeat this nightmare. The thought of standing up the entire way home versus sitting in my car in the red snake sucked even worse. Were they mocking us when they touted the phrase “The World’s Longest Gondola” back when they were trying to garner support to build this thing?

When I got off of the gondola, I considered my option to go find a locker to stash my backpack. I remembered the family of four next to me in the parking garage and all the stuff they were hauling up the gondola. They would surely need a locker to store their load of stuff. I did not have it in me to take the extra time to walk over to the lockers and fight through even more crowds, so I decided I would just wear my backpack for the day.

I made my way over to a lift line and it was no surprise; the lines were massive. I was now experiencing Snowbird with more people than could be imagined before the gondola provided an additional corridor up the canyon. I purposefully stayed away from the tram as my legs were already trashed from standing during the entire morning commute. The lift lines were backing up into the runs like they never had before. The size of the crowds on the slopes, now enabled by the gondola, had significantly diminished the skiing experience. I always knew there was a limit to growth in the canyons, and to see it being surpassed first-hand was depressing. There was no way to turn back the clock on the decisions that empowered this. I tried to make the most of it and was determined to get in as many runs as I could so I never stopped to eat lunch that day.

Chapter 6: It's only 3:00 but I better start the expedition home

By 3:00 that afternoon, I saw bodies already stacking up for the gondola ride down. So, despite the fantastic conditions and the awesome Snowbird terrain, I decided to cut my ski day short and make my way back to the gondola loading area. Everybody knows that the commute home at the end of the day is far more congested than the morning because most people tend to leave close to when the lifts close down. From my experience this morning, I now knew that waiting even an extra 15 minutes to get into the single gondola line could cost me an extra hour standing in line. My feet were more than ready to be out of my ski boots, and I regretted that I did not carry them and bring soft shoes for the commute. I made my way into the line, and the sign next to me read “1 hour wait from this point to board the gondola.” While an hour's wait sounded brutal, I realized I had managed to beat most of the crowd by compromising my ski day. There were over 5,000 of us who had to board this thing to get home, and within minutes of getting in line, there were masses of people queueing behind me.

Every other gondola cabin coming down from Alta was already at capacity with Alta skiers. This gave me flashbacks of the sick joke UTA would play on us back in the day over in Big Cottonwood Canyon when a bus would pull into Solitude’s lot after departing from Brighton completely full. When the bus pulled up, the bus driver would open the door and yell, “Looks like we’re full! You’ll need to wait for the next bus.” We would all yell back in frustration, “Why the hell did you even stop here then?”

By the time my 1-hour gondola boarding wait time had ended, my feet and legs were screaming, and I fully considered taking my boots off and riding down in my socks. It was finally time for me to board a gondola cabin for the 27-minute ride down while, you guessed it, still standing on my feet. Once again, the few cabin seats were quickly taken, but this time in a fashion that reminded me of road rage. This morning, people were more polite, but the vibe on the ride down was anything but pleasant. Right now, everyone was on edge and downright irritated. I recalled my kids sleeping in the back of the car on the long drive home years back and tried to imagine them making it through all of this. This would have been the end of their desire to ski at that age.

When we finally arrived at the base station, I saw a line of cars trying to get out of the garage. I hadn’t thought about what it would take to get 2,500 cars out of the two garage exits. Upon exiting the gondola cabin, I noticed the dude I had been talking to all morning. No doubt he was trying to avoid me after all my badgering questions today. I made a point to walk over and thank him for all his insight and told him how impressed I was with his level of knowledge concerning the UDOT EIS that led to this mess I was experiencing today. It also dawned on me that he never once told me how he felt about any of this.

“You opened my eyes today and I am very grateful,” I said. “But you never told me how you feel about any of this?”

He looked at me and said, “It doesn’t matter how I feel. It used to but for the wrong reasons. In light of what has happened to the canyon, it has now become more important to me to just provide the facts and not my opinion so I can help to create the conditions in which people can make up their minds about how this came to be. I hope that this will help guide better decisions in the future and more importantly, give citizens the voice they deserve.”

With that comment, I warmly stretched out my hand and said, “I’m John. I never even asked you your name today.” He extended his hand and in a toothy grin, he said, “It was a pleasure to talk to you today, John. My name is Josh.”

I took the escalator up to the sixth floor to join the others in the race to make it to the exit of the 6-story parking garage. It was similar to the chokepoints of trying to leave the big parking lots of a concert or a sporting event. When I was finally on the drive home, I fought to even understand what had transpired that day. I was physically worn out, but more so mentally exhausted from the insight that came from understanding how this mess came to be, and the shortsightedness or possibly corruption of those who voted to fund this thing with zero consideration for the fact it just could not work. The gondola had not solved a canyon traffic problem. It just induced more demand in the canyon, all while growing the traffic problem down at the base of the canyon. And I concluded today; that had to have been the hidden agenda all along, to further exploit the canyon in the name of economic growth. This was accomplished by using public money to directly benefit two private ski resorts.

If they truly intended to reduce traffic in the canyon by building the gondola, they would have put restrictions on how many cars could enter the canyon. The very canyon traffic problem itself is nothing less than a negative externality of the ski resort’s business model and desire to grow year over year, instead of choosing to thrive within the limited capacity and fragile ecosystem of the canyon. Their business induces the demand that creates the traffic issue. But instead of making them pay for a solution to the problem they cause, our elected officials decided that the taxpayers should foot the bill for the mess they created, and in such a way as to support even more resort business growth by enabling bigger crowds up the canyon.

The dominoes were set up and then knocked into motion with absolutely no canyon capacity studies. After all, if UDOT had defined its purpose and needs statement at the outset of the EIS as a solution to support economic growth by exploiting the public canyon at the cost of taxpayers in support of two private ski resorts, the gondola would never have been approved, especially with public money.

I looked out my car window and back up at the massive permanent gondola towers and thought about the new unprecedented crowds of people I saw today and the same old traffic polluting its way up and down the canyon. “My God, what the hell did they do? There is no way to take it back!”