Deep Rifts


At Taos, the founding family didn’t sell to a large corporation. They chose Louis Bacon, the billionaire founder of New York hedge fund Moore Capital Management who was also a longtime skier there and conservationist. Even so, the deal set off a fight that would expose deep rifts between the mountain’s management and patrol.

Tucked amid ponderosa forests and adobe homes, the resort was founded in the 1950s by Ernie Blake, a Swiss Jew who fled Nazi Germany for the U.S. and spotted a promising basin while flying his single-engine Cessna 170. Blake transformed the mountain into a bohemian paradise that attracts broke ski bums and Hollywood stars by importing chefs and instructors from Europe, while capitalizing on the growing art scene in nearby Santa Fe.

For years, the mountain had been losing patrons amid drought and increasing competition from flashier resorts with new amenities. That left the Blakes struggling to invest in capital upgrades needed to compete with deeper-pocketed rivals like Vail and California’s Mammoth Mountain, which is run by a private equity firm and recently acquired family-operated Bear Mountain near Los Angeles.

In 2013, then-chief executive Mickey Blake, son of the founder, admitted defeat and approached Bacon. Many skiers heralded a new owner wealthy enough to invest in the mountain. Since the sale closed in June 2014, Bacon has indicated he’ll spend an estimated $300 million on upgrades, including a spiffed-up base village that will feature new dining options, a childcare center and a spa. Most recently, he completed a $3 million chairlift to the resort’s most challenging summit, 12,500-foot Kachina Peak.

For the 44-member Taos ski patrol, the need to seek union protection wasn’t immediately clear. In a ceremony of sorts, patrollers bestowed Bacon with an honorary red parka, and joked that it was probably the most expensive jacket he’d ever purchased. They also guided him to choice terrain closed to the public, something they’d enjoyed doing for Ernie Blake.

The mountain increased its starting wage for patrollers to about $11 per hour, boosted staff by 15 percent and allotted full-timers $800 per year to buy equipment, according to chief executive officer Gordon Briner.

Still, feelings of vulnerability spread throughout the patrol force, said Rey Deveaux, a 40-year veteran. Management brought in consultants, rumors circulated that the old-guard patrollers could be targeted for layoffs and the policy of issuing them the time-honored privilege of lifetime season passes after two decades of service was put under review.

“We said ’Okay we’ve got this billionaire, we’ve got this new management team, they’re going to clean house and they could do that to us,’” said Deveaux, 63.

In the spring 2015, the patrollers contacted the Communications Workers of America.