From 2010 through 2020, each winter season brought with it more than snowfall totals and trail openings. It brought a magazine. Some years, summer earned one too.
The Jay Peak Resort Magazine was never a brochure dressed up as a publication. It was a seasonal snapshot of who we were at that moment, told through long-form stories, unexpected features, sharp photography, sidebars that wandered, and design choices that were sometimes subtle and sometimes anything but.
Inside its pages you would find profiles of lift mechanics and young racers, essays on change and stubbornness, deep dives into ski programs, and reflections on growth in a small northern corner of Vermont. There were spreads that celebrated the art of falling on your face in Nordic skiing, stories about wind that felt biblical, and photo essays that made powder look like weather and weather look like personality.
The magazine gave space to our people. Instructors, groomers, patrollers, kids in eight-week programs, and the ones who learned to love winter the hard way. It paired their voices with bold layouts, playful infographics, and the occasional stat or sidebar that felt more like a wink than a fact sheet.
It was thoughtful without being precious. Honest about expansion and evolution. Proud of snowfall totals, but more interested in the culture built underneath them. It explored vice and virtue, growth and grit, community and contradiction. It leaned into design as much as narrative, treating each issue as something to hold onto rather than flip past.
These magazines documented a decade of change, ambition, and identity. They captured winters measured in inches and summers measured in long light. They reflected a resort that was building, questioning, experimenting, and occasionally poking fun at itself.
What remains is an archive of stories that go beyond conditions reports and event calendars. Together, they tell the story of a mountain and the people who shaped it, season after season.
