Once thriving, Tahoe’s High Camp is now a ghost town

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Alex Cushing, the founder of Palisades Tahoe, was known to be two things: visionary and determined. 

Cushing became famous when, in the 1950s, he convinced the International Olympic Committee to leave their pristine slopes in Europe and take a chance on the rough, untested mountains of California for the Winter Games. The 1960 Winter Olympics were a massive success, and that was just the beginning for Cushing. 

In the decades after, Cushing was still mad with visions and ideas, hungry to build. When he said he wanted a gondola, he got a gondola. When he pointed to the rocky face at the head of the valley and said he wanted a tram, he got a tram. As the ski resort grew, his focus aimed higher, all the way up to elevation 8,200 feet, where he envisioned a complex unlike anything a ski resort in the United States, possibly the world, had ever seen before. He called it High Camp. There would be hotels, restaurants, bars, shops, tennis courts, an ice skating rink, a pool and a hot tub, and an 18-hole golf course designed by renowned golf architect Robert Trent Jones.

“His willfulness was legendary, as he repeatedly and flagrantly defied environmental and safety regulations,” the New York Times wrote in Cushing’s obituary after his death in 2006. He was 92. 

Jim Mott, left, and Alex Cushing standing on a deck at High Camp, discussing where and how to build the ice rink, pool and hot tub amenities in the mid-1980s.

Jim Mott, left, and Alex Cushing standing on a deck at High Camp, discussing where and how to build the ice rink, pool and hot tub amenities in the mid-1980s.

Photo courtesy of Jim Mott.

In Cushing’s heyday, High Camp was the epicenter of social life and spring skiing. The whole facility looks like a mid-century fortress perched at the top of the tram, like the setting of a James Bond fight scene. In the spring, a ski ticket or season pass accessed not only the lifts, but also High Camp’s pool and hot tub, which opened every year on St. Patrick’s Day. Green beer would flow from the taps. The hot tub was packed. The vibe felt like a pool party in Miami — just with goggles instead of sunglasses. 

Palisades Tahoe, which was renamed last year to end the use of a slur in its previous name, still trademarks “spring skiing capital.” (I, for one, endorse this claim. Springtime conditions are some of the best of the year at Palisades.) This St. Patrick’s Day, however, the pool, hot tub and High Camp’s Umbrella Bar were buried beneath a winter’s worth of snow, with no signs of opening.

After repeated requests for interviews, a spokesperson for Palisades Tahoe said they were unable to speak to the past, present or future of High Camp by our deadline. (SFGATE initially reached out to the ski resort to speak about High Camp on Feb. 15, giving the resort more than a month’s notice about this story.) The ski resort’s own guide to après in the springtime has no mention of High Camp.

The interior at High Camp, with flags and other paraphernalia commemorating when the 1960 Winter Olympics were held there.

The interior at High Camp, with flags and other paraphernalia commemorating when the 1960 Winter Olympics were held there.

Photo by Julie Brown/SFGATE

Cushing was ahead of his time when he built High Camp. He wanted it to be the pillar for the ski resort to operate as a year-round destination. And yet, as the ski resort has aggressively pursued development for the same reason of establishing year-round business, High Camp has been pushed to the side. Its maintenance and upkeep seem like an afterthought, or ignored altogether. The building has such a rich history, and yet, I wonder if it will survive the future. 

A throwback to a storied time in Lake Tahoe

In the not-so-distant past, when rent cost less than $500 for a studio across the street from the ski resort, I used to show up to the chairlifts with my bathing suit stashed in the pockets of my ski jacket. I’d follow the sun as it warmed up the ski slopes all morning, and come afternoon, I’d end my days in the hot tub at High Camp. As the last light faded off the mountain, slightly buzzed, skin smelling like chlorine, my friends and I would click back into our skis and race all the way down the mountain, back home. 

Springtime has always been a time of year when Palisades Tahoe thrives. At High Camp, when the Umbrella Bar used to open, skiers gravitated to this place and sat around on stools shaded beneath the huge canopy. Access to the pool and the hot tub was once included with a season pass or a ski ticket. Most spring skiing days ended with a dip in the water and, from personal experience, I have to say it was delightful. When I was an editor at a ski magazine, I traveled across the planet to ski and I never came across another ski resort that hosted pool parties on top of the mountain. High Camp gave Palisades an experience that I never have found anywhere else.

"The whole facility looks like a mid-century fortress perched at the top of the tram, like the setting of a James Bond fight scene." The High Camp ski lodge at Palisades Tahoe. 

“The whole facility looks like a mid-century fortress perched at the top of the tram, like the setting of a James Bond fight scene.” The High Camp ski lodge at Palisades Tahoe. 

Photo by Julie Brown/SFGATE

“I have pictures of the hot tub with, like, 100 people in it,” said Charlie Thurston, who ran operations at High Camp’s ice rink for more than 17 years. “And the Umbrella Bar was up. It’s packed. Kids are swimming everywhere. We had a ticket called the ride, ski and swim ticket.”


Thurston grew up at the old San Francisco Ice Arena, in the Outer Sunset, which his parents owned and operated. He had deep knowledge of the ice rink business, which is probably why Cushing hired him in 1990 to run the 20,000-square-foot ice rink at High Camp.

Cushing wanted the ice rink to be open every day, all year round, Thurston said. Situated at the top of a mountain, accessed only by tram or by skis, that was easier said than done. But Thurston made it happen to the best of his ability. They built a dome frame over the ice, with a removable cover to provide shade over the ice when conditions warranted. To help him keep the ice clear during Sierra Nevada blizzards, he hired a team of ski bums who were mostly working to get the free ski pass. 

An ice skater glides across High Camp's 20,000-square-foot ice skating rink in the early 2000s.

An ice skater glides across High Camp’s 20,000-square-foot ice skating rink in the early 2000s.

Photo courtesy of Charlie Thurston

Thurston spent many hours at High Camp, driving the Zamboni in circles around the ice rink, taking in views of Lake Tahoe, of skiers descending the steeps of Palisades, of sunsets and sunrises along the Pacific Crest.

“I remember one day, it was late in the afternoon, the sun was going down, there was no wind,” Thurston said. “You know the alpenglows we used to get, when you’re on the ice rink and you look across the lake and the whole other side was pink.”

Now, instead of ice, High Camp simply has a 20,000-square-foot rink. The ice is gone and all that remains is the flat oval of cement foundation. Sometimes, the ski resort will open the rink up for roller skating. 

The visionary

Cushing had a lot of enemies — the man was as divisive as he was determined. “Some California skiers think of Cushing the way Oakland Raiders fans regard Al Davis — hating the owner, loving his property,” wrote the San Francisco Examiner in 1981.

But he also had loyal employees whom he mentored and who think of him like family. Jim Mott started working for Cushing as a lift operator in 1967 and worked his way up the chain of command, becoming a ski patroller, then ski patrol director, and eventually assistant general manager and then president of the ski resort. Mott worked at Palisades until 1991. 

A view from the High Camp ski lodge at Tahoe Palisades. 

A view from the High Camp ski lodge at Tahoe Palisades. 

Photo by Julie Brown/SFGATE

When Mott first arrived, there was no High Camp. The tram reached a platform on the edge of the mountain. Its doors opened and skiers braced themselves against the bitter wind before clicking into their skis and pushing off and away. 

In 1976, Cushing surprised officials at Placer County by revealing plans he had to build a restaurant and a new facility at the top of the tram, according to an article in the Sacramento Bee. This surprise announcement came on the heels of a controversial moment for Cushing, when county officials implemented a restraining order against Squaw Valley Ski Corporation (the company Cushing founded to run the ski resort) for alleged permit violations while building Solitude chairlift. Among the infractions cited, the ski resort built a road without a permit, located the terminal for the lift tower within the lake’s water table, and cleared more trees than the county had authorized. 

Unfazed, Cushing kept talking up his plans for High Camp. A press release at the time revealed a proposed multimillion dollar resort with hotels, bars, restaurants, shops and a “Robert Trent Jones 18-hole golf course,” name-dropping a famed golf course architect of the time. It would all be situated at elevation 8,200 feet. The restaurant, Cushing told county officials, was already near completion and would open that winter. 

From the perspective of Placer County’s health department director, however, Cushing needed to figure out how he was going to treat sewage at the facility before any restaurant could open.

Three months later, in December 1976, the Sacramento Bee ran another headline: “Squaw Valley Debuts High Camp Complex.” 

“The days of unloading from Squaw Valley’s cable car and finding yourself in the middle of nowhere are over,” the article states. 

(That year, lift tickets cost $12 and included a money-back guarantee. If skiers found snow conditions were not as advertised on the snow report, they could get a full refund. This winter, a lift ticket to Palisades Tahoe cost as much as $229.)

A lone skier descends the mountain at Palisades Tahoe.

A lone skier descends the mountain at Palisades Tahoe.

Scott Markewitz/Getty Images/Aurora Open

As Mott told me, Cushing always had a vision he was going after and he spent every dollar he had on the mountain. In every endeavor — save for chairlift maintenance, perhaps, given the resort’s multiple instances of lift breakdowns — he wanted the state of the art, the best available and the latest trend.

“His vision was, always has been, very strong,” Mott said. “He decided he wanted an ice rink up there. And then he decided, well, let’s put six tennis courts up here. And let’s heat them so they could play, because he visualized Ivan Lendl and Pete Sampras playing up there in the wintertime with 8-foot snowbanks around the tennis courts.”

After the restaurant, Cushing continued to build High Camp in a piecemeal fashion. The tennis courts are still there — even though Cushing’s dream of playing surrounded by snowbanks was never viable. When Trent Jones’ son came to High Camp to consult on building a golf course, he told Mott and Cushing there was enough room to build a 9-hole golf course.

“But Alex didn’t want to build a 9-hole golf course,” Mott said. “He wanted to build an 18-hole golf course.” 

So the golf course didn’t work out, either, but Mott thinks the 23,000 golf balls he ordered are probably still up there somewhere. The hotel was a bust, too. But, the pool and the hot tub were a wild success, built along with the ice rink. “We went all over the place looking at ice rinks and looking at swimming pools,” Mott said. 

“It was a huge project,” Mott said. “But [Cushing] was determined.”

Cushing was the first to say he wasn’t a very good skier. Instead, he always touted that he was in the business of uphill transportation. He was also a socialite, and his restaurant, Alexander’s, at High Camp, was the spot to be. A New York Times review of the place in 1986 noted tablecloths and flower arrangements, along with a ski check.

“This is California,” the New York Times wrote, “so it is not surprising that a full range of Louis Martini and Robert Mondavi wines are for sale in the cafeterias, for people who like a little Cabernet Sauvignon with their chili.”

A piano plays to an empty room

A couple weeks ago, when I parked my skis outside of High Camp, I knew that I shouldn’t expect much. It’s been years since the pool and hot tub opened. Despite the drifts of snow burying the outdoor pavilion, the peak was fairly busy on St. Patrick’s Day, with a constant flow of people arriving and departing from the tram. 

I walked through the sliding glass doors, past a customer service desk and a grab-and-go food store, and headed down a set of stairs that wrapped around to lower compartments and floors. The Terrace Restaurant & Bar still invokes a mid-century glamor, mixed with ski lodge functionality. Huge floor-to-ceiling windows wrap around the semi-circular dining room, revealing long views of Lake Tahoe and the ski slopes. Grip tape on the stairs is a precautionary detail so ski boots won’t slip. Today, the Terrace was closed and the tables with the best view sat empty.

I walked past another set of double doors, into a dark hallway with blue carpet and windows to my left, an open kitchen to my right. A few skiers mingled in the hallway, waiting for a table at another restaurant that was open. At the end of the hallway, more stairs continued to lead me downward, and I arrived at the Olympic Museum. 

FILE - This Feb. 1, 1960 file photo shows the Squaw Valley ski resort in California during the 1960 Winter Olympics. Owners of the Lake Tahoe-area ski resort have agreed to sell Squaw Valley USA to a Colorado-based investment firm that's pledging $50 million in improvements over the next five years, company officials said Tuesday. 

FILE – This Feb. 1, 1960 file photo shows the Squaw Valley ski resort in California during the 1960 Winter Olympics. Owners of the Lake Tahoe-area ski resort have agreed to sell Squaw Valley USA to a Colorado-based investment firm that’s pledging $50 million in improvements over the next five years, company officials said Tuesday. 


AP

In this file photo from Jan. 1960, crowds and athletes gather at the arena for the Winter Olympic games opening ceremony in Squaw Valley, which was renamed to Palisades Tahoe in 2021. 

In this file photo from Jan. 1960, crowds and athletes gather at the arena for the Winter Olympic games opening ceremony in Squaw Valley, which was renamed to Palisades Tahoe in 2021. 


AP

In this photo from Feb. 28, 1960, Olympic athletes march into Blyth Arena for the ceremony to end the VIII Winter Olympic Games, in what was previously know as Squaw Valley before being renamed Tahoe Palisades in 2021.

In this photo from Feb. 28, 1960, Olympic athletes march into Blyth Arena for the ceremony to end the VIII Winter Olympic Games, in what was previously know as Squaw Valley before being renamed Tahoe Palisades in 2021.


AP


Scenes from the 1960 Winter Olympics in Tahoe’s Squaw Valley, which was later re-named to Palisades Tahoe in 2021. (Images via Getty)

The museum is a testament to the glory days of this mountain. I could see the Olympic rings outside of High Camp through the windows, and inside, international flags hung from the ceiling around glass display cases of Olympic memorabilia. The museum was absolutely quiet, save for a recorded voice on a documentary video that played on a loop. As I walked around the room, I took in the views outside of legendary ski runs that have been the stomping grounds for some of the best skiers in history. But inside High Camp, all this rich history was buried in a little-known room, on the bottom floor of a maze-like complex, in the most obscure corner of the ski resort. 

Yet, the ski resort’s hunger for development and building has not stopped. Now, Palisades Tahoe ski resort officials are looking in the opposite direction of High Camp, toward the other side of the ski resort and across the ridge to Alpine Meadows. 

The new $65 million Base to Base Gondola would connect the Olympic Valley base area with Alpine Meadows. It will be about a 16-minute ride, with the capacity to transport 1,400 people per hour. Like the tram Cushing built, the new gondola will not open any new ski terrain. Unlike the tram, it will certainly change how people travel across the two mountains and access existing terrain. Construction began last summer, and ski resort officials anticipate the new gondola will open for the next ski season.

The latest news about the Base to Base Gondola came from a press release sent by Palisades’ parent company, Alterra, outlining some $344 million in capital improvements before the winter of 2022/2023. This latest round of funding brings the company’s investment over the last five years on capital improvements to over $1 billion. 

The Palisades Tahoe Aerial Tram in Lake Tahoe, CA.

The Palisades Tahoe Aerial Tram in Lake Tahoe, CA.

Getty Images

I would have continued my exploration of High Camp, but a lone post blocked the stairs heading down toward the ice rink, which was just cement after all. The post said the ice rink was closed. So I turned around and headed back up, and that’s when I heard the sound of a piano echoing down the halls. 

Through a crack in the curtains, I saw a grand piano in the corner of another closed off section of High Camp. This room was also meant for dining, with red chairs arranged around tables and a stone fireplace in the corner. A skier, likely on a lunch break, sat down at the piano in the empty room and began playing.

The atmosphere filled with a melody that was at once beautiful and nostalgic. Or maybe the notes just amplified the mood I was in. The pianist wore blue ski pants, with sunglasses pushing up a mop of blond hair from his head. It felt like a glimpse of a livelier time, when High Camp was the center of social life at Palisades Tahoe. The sound of the piano followed me as I walked up the hallway, up the stairs, through the double doors and back outside.

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