The secret ski resorts hidden inside America’s national parks

From Yosemite’s Badger Pass to little-known slopes in Washington State and Ohio, three parks offer a rare chance to ski inside some of the country’s most protected landscapes.

A wide shot of a massive, deep valley dusted in snow and with a waterfall. A man in a blue coat and on skis stands on a rocky outcropping looking out over the valley.
A backcountry skier enjoys the wintry landscape of Yosemite National Park, including Yosemite Falls, from Glacier Point lookout.
Russ Bishop, Alamy
ByKeri Bridgwater
January 27, 2026

Waterfalls and scenic overlooks, rather than chairlifts and ski patrols, more readily come to mind when picturing America’s national parks, but did you know three quietly welcome skiers? West Coast mainstays Yosemite National Park and Olympic National Park, and under-the-radar Cuyahoga Valley National Park in Ohio, each provide a unique chance to hit the slopes.

America’s oldest national park ski area

Surrounded by lodgepole pines and majestic Sierra granite, Badger Pass Ski Area sits at 7,200 feet on a broad alpine saddle along Glacier Point Road in Yosemite National Park. Modest by modern resort standards, its place in American ski history is outsized. Opened in 1935, Badger Pass is the oldest ski area operating within a U.S. national park, its past tied to Yosemite’s bid to host the 1932 Winter Olympics. A rare survivor of an era when park planners embraced alpine skiing to draw winter visitors, Badger Pass—also California’s oldest ski resort—features downhill terrain, a ski school, and a lodge, whose significance extends far beyond the 800 vertical feet that stretch from its summit to base.

A black and white historical photo, a man and woman stand in snow among trees, holding skis and ski poles.
James Oliver, the commissioner of Yosemite National Park, and his wife inaugurated the opening of ski season at Badger Pass on December 10, 1935.
Underwood Archives, Inc., Alamy

“For locals, coming here is a way to embrace where we live in a different season,” says the Director of the Badger Pass Nordic Center, Josh Helling, who has skied in Yosemite most of his life. “As soon as we have enough snow, all the familiar faces start showing up, from toddlers to longtime elders,” he explains.

Lift ticket prices are among the most affordable in the Sierra. Seniors over 70 ski free, and weekday school ski days bring children to the slopes from Yosemite Valley and gateway communities like Mariposa and Oakhurst. “Badger is a community gathering place as much as it is a ski area,” Helling says. “Traditions like the Yosemite Nordic Holiday Race have anchored winter here since 1969, but we’re hoping to revive once-celebrated alpine ski races when conditions allow.” 

With snowmaking prohibited in U.S. national parks, Badger Pass is entirely dependent on natural snowfall, a policy that also protects a fragile meadow beneath its slopes. Although seasons have grown less predictable in the Sierra, epic winters still arrive—in March 2023, snowfall climbed to the lodge’s second floor, breaking a decades-old record. 

Even in low-snow years, this storied ski area reveals a side of one of America’s most popular national parks few visitors see. Badger Pass is one framed by uncrowded slopes and rare winter access via groomed Nordic trails to its world-famous overlook, Glacier Point, and beyond into the backcountry.

Yosemite isn’t the only national park where winter reshapes the experience. Nearly 1,000 miles north in Washington, skiers get to enjoy summit-to-sea views inside Olympic National Park.

(How do you avoid the crowds in national parks? Visit during winter.)

From sea level to ski level

A lone skier in an orange jacket stands on snowy mountain top surrounded by trees, snow-covered mountain range in background
A cross-country skier follows along the road to Hurricane Hill Trail, a popular 3.4-mile round-trip winter route with views of the majestic Hurricane Ridge in Olympic National Park.
Spring Images, Alamy

From the waterfront town of Port Angeles, the road climbs more than 5,200 feet to Hurricane Ridge. On clear days, views stretch north to Vancouver Island, and when storms roll in, clouds race up from the Pacific. “It’s an upside-down ski area,” says Roger Oakes, ski area historian and founder of the Hurricane Ridge Winter Sports Club. “Since opening in 1958, the phrase, ‘Thirty minutes sea level to ski level,’ has been printed on lift tickets here.” 

Two rope tows operate during the weekends and holidays from December through March, and a single Poma surface lift serves roughly 620 vertical feet. “Our little ski area stays alive because of a small but dedicated group of skiers and a good relationship with Olympic National Park,” Oakes adds.

The base remains local mainly, supported by a nonprofit model that includes a volunteer ski patrol affiliated with the National Ski Patrol. Rising prices at larger Washington resorts have started to attract families from Tacoma (and other cities) to Hurricane, particularly for ski school. “It’s challenging here. People are often surprised by how much variety we have in such a small place,” he adds, pointing to double black diamond the Face,” where steep, narrow chutes and gladed runs test expert skiers. The season averages about 28 operating days, often dictated by weather and road access. Like Badger Pass, Hurricane Ridge relies entirely on natural snowfall—sometimes in excess. In 1999, a single storm buried the Poma lift and lodge.

Although only a quarter of winter visitors use the lift-serviced ski area, it remains a community hub. According to Oakes, a long-standing relationship with the National Park Service provides a sense of perpetuity. He says, “Hurricane Ridge is included in the park’s General Management Plan and essentially grandfathered into park policy.” 

Oakes says planned federal funding to replace its historic day lodge, lost to the 2023 fire, is now in the early planning stages and also offers hope that this grassroots outpost will anchor winter recreation in the Olympics for years to come.

If skiing at Olympic National Park feels defined by its remoteness, Cuyahoga Valley National Park promises the opposite. 

(Forget the road trip—these national parks are best visited by train.)

Ohio’s surprise mountain playground

Snow cannons spray snow over a groomed skii run, several skiers and snowboarders on the slopes. A ski lift in the background.
Parkgoers in Ohio who enjoy skiing should consider heading to Boston Mills Brandywine, two sister resorts in Cuyahoga National Park, where outdoor enthusiasts can hit more than 80 acres of powder and 18 groomed trails.
Boston Mills Brandywine

Set on private land within the park on opposite sides of the Cuyahoga River, Boston Mills and Brandywine are sister ski resorts—separately named hills now operated together under the same ownership—less than an hour’s drive from Cleveland and Akron. A Midwest mainstay since 1963, the two areas predate the valley’s national recreation area status and, over four decades later, its designation as a national park. “Being surrounded by the national park shapes how we operate—we share the same goal to attract residents and visitors into the valley throughout winter,” says the General Manager of Boston Mills and Brandywine, Jake Campbell. 

Less than 10 minutes apart by car, the two resorts span 88 skiable acres with 18 trails between them, share lift ticket access, and function as one complex. Boston Mills has become the valley’s freestyle hub while Brandywine’s groomed slopes serve as an entry point for families and first-time skiers. Together, their location (between two of Ohio’s largest cities) makes late-night skiing a major draw, with buzzing floodlit slopes that sometimes run until midnight, sustaining its loyal, multigenerational following. Campbell, who started skiing and riding here in 2000 through the School Club program, counts himself among them. “It’s where I found connection and community, and our guests feel that too,” he says.

From the Sierra and Olympic Mountains to the Ohio River Valley, these last-of-their-kind ski areas remain etched into the lives of the people who return to them each winter. A poignant and meaningful reminder that loyalty, not size or spectacle, is what keeps skiing alive inside America’s national parks.

Keri Bridgwater is a British-born, now California-based freelance writer who covers travel and lifestyle. Follow her on Instagram.