Why I keep coming back:
There are plenty of beautiful places to stay in Vail, and every season seems to bring a splashy new boutique or a freshly renovated lodge promising something shinier. And yet I keep rebooking this one because nowhere else makes a ski weekend feel this effortless or special.
What keeps me loyal isn’t one grand gesture—it’s the slow accumulation of small, deeply specific ones. During one trip, for example, we arrived after turndown had been completed and found the usual chocolates on our pillowcase, plus two handmade, mitten-shaped dog treats, neatly wrapped, for our pups. Not store-bought bones or some generic pet amenity, but something that looked like a pastry chef had a little fun in the kitchen making (and which our dogs were beyond stoked about).
I adore how intuitive the service is, even if it’s small things, like waking up to find the water reservoir of the coffee pot has been pre-filled and our ski boots have been warmed. Sometimes, though, it’s almost spooky. On our last visit, while in the dining room, I shivered (it was unseasonably cold, and I hadn’t brought the right layers) and suddenly the server arrived with a cashmere blanket to drape around my shoulders.
And while nothing has ever been bad, the resort consistently looks for ways to level up, whether that’s partnering with Michelin-recognized Tavernetta or switching the welcome cocktail to include local spirits. The ski concierge at the base probably best exemplifies this always-improving ethos: What used to be a perfectly pleasant setup—lockers and a crock pot of chili—has more recently transformed into a luxe après lounge with fantastic bites (ranging from breakfast burritos and empanadas to Honey Stinger energy stroopwafels and organic fruit snacks) and hot drinks. It’s now a place where we want to linger instead of bolting for the village.
To sum it up, it feels like the hotel is constantly asking, How do we make this day just a little better? and then actually doing it.
