At the base of Taos Ski Valley, skiers, snowboarders, and the people who love them are greeted by a striking sight: the precipitous pitch of Al’s Run, an 1800-foot drop that makes you crane your neck with wonder and fear, to say nothing of the moguls. At the New Mexico resort nestled in the southernmost Rockies, though, the trail merits only a single black diamond. “If you come to Taos with a big ego,” ski instructor Mathias Klingemann told me, grinning beneath his mustache, “you may be humbled.”

This is true for both the terrain and the vibes. There are no Cloud 9 trucker hats in Taos; no branded Champagne yurts or influencers filming their high-speed descents. Taos is less fur-lined, more upcycled R.E.I., brimming with the crunchy charm of killer breakfast burritos, quaint alpine architecture, and a colorful tradition of martinis that all but grow on trees (more on that ahead). True bragging rights have long belonged to the adventure skiers who hike “the Ridge” to Taos’s vast, expert backcountry, extolled by one enthusiast as a “fantasyland” of sparkling snow. At around 12,000 feet, it’s one of the highest ski elevations in the U.S., yet still one of the most under-the-radar.

“A lot of folks don't know that skiing in New Mexico is possible,” Klingemann said, “much less that it's a world-class ski resort.” If you know, you know—so much so that more than one die-hard joked that I shouldn’t share the secret.

Taos’s hidden-gem status translates to shorter lift lines and fewer crowds, self-selecting a loyal fanbase drawn to its blissful unpretentiousness. Not far from the steep slope of Al’s Run hangs a reassuring, now-famous sign that reads: “Don’t panic! You’re looking at only 1/30 of Taos Ski Valley. We have many easy runs, too!” (As a solidly intermediate skier, I can confirm, even if Taos lore says that a challenging blue here is akin to an expert black elsewhere). The sign is classic Taos: totally extraordinary and, at the same time, perfectly chill about it.

It became a refuge for me since the first time I rode the two-plus hours from Albuquerque with my then-boyfriend, circa 2008. This high-strung New Yorker saw more expanses of untouched land than I had, quite honestly, ever. Taos settled me. The stars at night, without high-rises clouding the sky, twinkled with clarity—unspoiled and other-worldly; the “Land of Enchantment” living up to its name.

“It's a foreign country in America,” Angelisa Espinoza Murray, founder and CEO of Heritage Inspirations, an immersive, educational New Mexico tourism company, says of the state. “It’s timeless.”

Taos is the rare ski destination that doubles as a cultural experience: the historic town of Taos, thirty minutes down the mountain from the Ski Valley, is a mix of Native, Mexican and Spanish influences, home to the more-than-1,000-year-old Taos Pueblo and an artists’ sanctuary that wooed Georgia O’Keefe, D.H. Lawrence, and Julia Roberts, who bought a ranch in the halcyon days of the 90’s and never left. Taos, as Murray says, “gets into your soul.”

Read on for where to stay and ski, what to eat, and how to soak up the culture of Taos.

Where to Stay

Apart from Taos’s wild beauty, the ultimate luxury is staying at its signature hotel, a high-end hearth steps from the lift with a valet that stores your skis and warms your boots overnight, penthouses that feel like standalone condos, and two outdoor jacuzzis to soak in at magic hour.

The Blake’s name is a nod to the founding father of Taos, late Swiss bon vivant Ernie Blake, who spotted the steep peak from the pilot seat of his Cessna in the fifties. The Blakes owned Taos for the next five decades, creating an intimate, ski equivalent of Dirty Dancing’s Kellerman (in the early days, the Blakes had a pet deer). In 2014, recognizing Taos needed extensive updates, the Blake family sold the resort to hedge fund manager, conservationist, and avid Taos skier Louis Bacon.

The Blake, born three years later, continues Ernie’s European-style hospitality: 24/7 ”hausmeisters,” like super-concierges, are available for guests’ every need, including stocking your fridge with groceries pre-arrival—a perk that dazzled me and my family after a long travel day—or arranging a private art tour of the hotel’s museum-quality pieces, including an O’Keefe and antique Navajo blankets from the 1800’s hanging in the lobby. True to Taos’s spirit, The Blake manages to be luxe but not stuffy, with vintage photos of the Blakes lining the walls.

How to Get There

File Taos under “the best places are the hardest to find.” It’s a roughly 90 minute drive from Santa Fe and 2.5 hours from Albuquerque, but with a dearth of direct flights to New Mexico from the East Coast, the best way to fly directly to Taos is on JSX, a “public charter air carrier” that goes where major airlines don’t (including Napa and Coachella) and feels like the closest thing to flying private that a commoner will ever know.

There are no middle seats on the 30-seat jets (about the size of a connecting flight), but there is business-class-quality legroom, buttery interiors, and, crucially for children, strong, free WiFi and elite snacks. Because JSX flies from dedicated hangars outside metro airports, you can fancy yourself a celebrity and arrive 20 minutes before departure. After a grueling early-morning trip on [major airline redacted], my family’s JSX flight from Austin to Taos felt like a spa treatment.

Where to Ski

The Ridge

“You could ski here for a lifetime and never ski everything on the Ridge,” Klingemann told me of Taos’s vast, varied backcountry terrain, including the storied Kachina Peak, named for sacred Hopi spirits. He points to “like a hundred” double-black runs and a labyrinth of secrets: “There's a run called Waterfowl that’s really hard to find, but once you get there, there's two feet of powder all the time.”

The high-altitude, high-reward area once only accessible via hike is now serviceable by a new lift, one of three added to Taos in the Bacon era. The new owner’s directive: “Upgrade everything and don't change anything,” Chris Stagg, a vice-president at Taos Ski Valley and son-in-law of Ernie Blake, told me. (Updates like solar-powered chairlifts and snowmaking earned Taos carbon-neutral status in 2022; it’s the world’s first ski resort to become a Certified B Corporation, joining the likes of Ben & Jerry’s and Patagonia in meeting high standards of sustainability and social responsibility.)

For those not yet equipped to tackle the Ridge, refine your skills at The Ernie Blake Snowsports School, which has been rated one of the best ski schools in the country. Our first-ever “family lesson” was a bonding experience, and after a few days with Klingemann, in the throes of the Sochi Olympics, I was cockily channeling Micaela Schifrin. The children’s ski school is a little island accessed via gondolita and conveniently located next to Loteria Paleteria, the go-to mini donut and Mexican hot chocolate hut.

What to Sip

Martini Trees

Martini Tree, Taos’s apres ski bar, is named after Taos’s most colorful tradition: hiding glass porróns (Spanish wine pitchers) of martinis in trees around the mountain for skiers who need a dose of courage. Ernie Blake first made his “medical discovery” in 1959, when a skilled skier lost her confidence on a greying day and he asked his son, Mickey, to fetch a batch of martinis. A shot later, she was healed. The martini trees are still flowing today, stowed in little cabinets amid the trees and unlocked by instructors celebrating the end of Taos’s immersive, instructional Ski Weeks.

Where to Eat

The Bavarian

One of the most magical experiences of my family ski trip to Taos: bundling up for an evening sleigh ride (pulled by electric Sno-Cat) to The Bavarian, the slopeside chalet that feels like an alpine lodge straight out of Frozen, where Kristoff and his reindeer, Sven, might stop to warm up. Devouring schnitzel, off-menu pretzels, and steins of beer under the creepy gaze of a taxidermied mountain lion was heaven, and the stars on the ride back were so clear that we saw both Dippers and Jupiter.

My kids rated the fries at 192 at The Blake—a nod to the tail number on Ernie’s Cessna—as the best at Taos. Their whiteout negroni, made with Suze French bitters and Lillet Blanc, was my favorite cocktail. Honorable mentions go to the house-made ravioli at Blonde Bear Tavern, crispy fish tacos at Daleee, and green chile breakfast burritos at Tenderfoot Katie’s.

What to See

Taos Pueblo

“You have so much richness in this little mecca of Taos,” Murray, the owner and “inspired guide” at Heritage Inspirations, told me. “You have a ski resort butted up to a UNESCO World Heritage site.”

That’s Taos Pueblo, an ancient Native American community and adobe architectural marvel that’s been home to the Taos Pueblo people for more than 1,000 years. “You don’t even realize there’s this whole enriched place on the other side of the hill that has its own tribal government, its own sovereign land,” Murray said. (Part of the community connection between Taos and the Ski Valley: the children of Taos Pueblo ski free.)

Among Murray’s excursions is baking with Geronimo Romero, a Taos Pueblo tribal member famed for his bread baked in traditional hornos: dome-shaped, outdoor ovens made of adobe. Hornos are connecting places, Murray said, to chat and share wisdom, and her tours are a glimpse into that communal experience: dough sliding over coals, then being dipped in butter and, as ever, green chile.

There are more than 70 galleries in the tiny town—its “ethereal light” made Taos “the original art colony,” Murray said, citing O’Keefe, Lawrence, Ansel Adams, and memoirist Mabel Dodge Luhan. At Chokola Bean to Bar, a small-batch chocolate shop, local artists use what Murray calls “Willy Wonka bars” as their medium.

Where to Shop

Taos Kids

The newly opened Taos Kids shop charmed me and my son with its Lego sets, hacky sacks, candy-by-the-pound, and a model ski lift running around the perimeter of the ceiling. For chunky Pendleton cardigans and beaded dog collars, head to Confluence, the Ski Valley’s swankiest boutique. My favorite shopping experience, though, must be Bump’s, a mountain bodega stocked with frozen pizzas, Topo Chico spiked seltzers, random rations of eggs (I scored three one early morning), and individually-wrapped Hostess cupcakes. I hope Bump’s—and Taos’s wild, non-snobby spirit—lasts forever.