Sugarbush Resort: Two Mountains, One Legendary Vermont Valley

Some ski resorts you visit; Sugarbush is one you settle into. Rising out of the Mad River Valley in Warren, Vermont, Sugarbush Resort spreads across two full mountains — Lincoln Peak and Mt. Ellen — joined by one of the longest chairlift rides in the East. On a bluebird morning, the view from the summit stretches across rolling Green Mountain farmland, and the valley below looks exactly the way Vermont is supposed to look. This is the third-largest ski area in the Northeast, yet it never feels like a machine. It feels like a mountain with a memory — old-school trails, steep trees, and a valley full of people who call it home. 🏔️

The story begins on Christmas Day, 1958, when Damon and Sara Gadd opened Sugarbush as a family-run ski area in the Mad River Valley. Over the decades it grew through the hands of the Gadd, Murphy and Estin families into one of New England's premier destinations — today the third-largest in the Northeast, behind only Killington and Sugarloaf. The mountain doubled in personality when Mt. Ellen, itself an independent resort founded by Walt Elliot in the early 1960s, was folded in, and the two sides were finally linked in 1995 by the nearly two-mile-long Slide Brook Express, a high-speed quad soaring across the Slide Brook Basin. After a rough patch under the American Skiing Company, the resort was bought in 2001 by the family of longtime skier Win Smith, and in early 2020 it joined the Alterra Mountain Company family as an Ikon Pass destination.

By the numbers, Sugarbush is a heavyweight. Lincoln Peak tops out at 3,975 feet; Mt. Ellen reaches 4,083 feet, tying Camel's Hump as the third-highest summit in Vermont, with one of the largest continuous vertical drops in the state at 2,600 feet. The resort counts 111 trails served by 16 lifts, averages 262 inches of natural snow a year, and covers its terrain with about 70 percent snowmaking while deliberately leaving the rest to nature. The Slide Brook Express alone spans 11,012 feet across a 2,000-acre wilderness basin that doubles as backcountry terrain, making the trip between the two mountains an adventure in itself.

The two mountains ski like siblings with different temperaments. Lincoln Peak is the polished one: a slopeside village built in the Vermont vernacular of farmhouses, schoolhouses and barns, anchored by the Clay Brook Hotel and Residences, with an outdoor heated pool, ski valet, and restaurants pouring local craft beer and serving food from nearby farms. Mt. Ellen is the purist: a no-frills base lodge that has barely changed in half a century, home to the Green Mountain Lounge, a nationally beloved après-ski hangout. And then there is Castlerock — Sugarbush's old-soul trail pod, with no snowmaking and almost no grooming, just steep, bouldery, bump-lined New England fall-line skiing at its most honest.

Sugarbush is a four-season mountain. Summer and fall bring the 18-hole Robert Trent Jones Sr.-designed Sugarbush Resort Golf Club, lift-served mountain biking, and a full calendar of fall events including Oktoberfest, a community day with scenic chairlift rides, and Halloween happenings. The SHARC, the resort's health and recreation club, keeps swimmers, gym-goers and spa-seekers happy year-round, and the mountain has become a sought-after spot for weddings and conferences. On the Ikon Pass, it also draws destination skiers from New York and Boston who pair it with its famous neighbor next door.

Getting here is straightforward: the resort's main address is 102 Forest Drive in Warren, Vermont, a little over five and a half hours from New York City. Once you're in the valley, the towns of Waitsfield and Warren supply everything — inns and B&Bs, general stores, and a food scene with a national reputation, from Lawson's Finest Liquids to American Flatbread's Waitsfield outpost. Mad River Glen sits minutes away, bracketed by Sugarbush's two peaks, so ambitious skiers can hit two legendary mountains in a single trip. For questions, the resort's main line is 1-802-552-4007.

What sets Sugarbush apart as much as the skiing is the Mad River Valley itself. This is working Vermont — dairy farms, the winding Mad River, and two small towns that grew up around the ski industry without losing their souls. The valley's après scene is famously unpretentious: craft beer, flatbread, and live music in rooms full of people who skied hard all day. It's the kind of place where the bartender might have been your ski instructor that morning, and where a powder day is still the only acceptable excuse for calling in sick.

Ask Sugarbush loyalists what keeps them coming back and many will point to the trees. The resort's vast wooded terrain and steep glades — local favorites include Paradise Woods — hold powder stashes for days after a storm, and the deep woods of the Slide Brook Basin offer lift-accessed backcountry adventure between the two mountains. It's terrain that rewards exploring: tight lines, natural hits, and the kind of quiet you only find off the groomed map. When the snow is deep, there are few better places in the East to disappear into the forest.

First-timers should plan to use the Slide Brook Express, or the free shuttle, to sample both mountains, since Lincoln Peak and Mt. Ellen each deserve a full day. Ski school and seasonal programs run out of modern learning centers at Lincoln Peak, and holiday weeks book up early, so reserving lodging and lessons ahead is smart. Midweek visits are the valley's best-kept secret: empty trails, short lift lines, and the same 262 inches of snow. And whatever you do, save at least one run for Castlerock — it's the soul of the place.

In an era of mega-resorts, Sugarbush has managed to grow up without selling out: a big mountain with a small mountain's heart, rooted in a valley that still feels like Vermont. Whether you're lapping Castlerock bumps, floating through the glades, or watching the sun drop behind the Greens from the Clay Brook pool deck, it's the kind of place that turns first-time visitors into season-pass holders. Come see why generations of skiers have called it, simply, the Bush.