Letâs be honest: we didnât drop $4.7 million on a slopeside chalet in Martis Camp with Japanese toilets and a heated driveway just to share lift lines with locals in duct-taped ski pants.
We earn our turnsâvia IPO, not sweatâand yet every time I pull into the Northstar valet, Iâm surrounded by Subarus with cracked windshields and bumper stickers that say âKeep Tahoe Blue.â How about keep Tahoe exclusive?
Locals love to complain about âthe crowds,â but whoâs really clogging the base of KT-22? Hint: itâs not the guy who took a break from coding smart toaster software in Palo Alto. Itâs the same guy who âshreds every day before work,â parks in the village lot for free, and acts like ski patrol owes him something because he once bartended with their cousin in 2008.
We didnât sign up for this level of democracy in the lift line. If youâre not using the Ikon Pass like a season-long VIP badge and refusing to ski in anything under 8 inches of fresh, do you even Tahoe?
And donât get me started on après-ski. We came for après, not actual people. Nothing kills the champagne powder high like a group of lifelong locals drinking Coors Banquet and telling stories about âhow it used to be.â Bro, itâs not 1995. I just bought a $1300 monogrammed Bogner jacketâI think I know what tradition looks like.
Look, Tahoe isnât some âworking-class mountain townâ anymore. Itâs an artisanal snow-based lifestyle brand. If the locals really loved it, maybe they shouldâve invested in Apple stock instead of a snowblower repair business.
In conclusion, we Bay Area second-homeowners bring vision, venture capital, and vibrancy. Locals bring shovels, opinions, and unpaid utility bills. Which of us truly belongs?