At 8:46 a.m. on Sept. 11, 2001, I was sitting in my office in midtown Manhattan, talking on the phone with my dear friend Morty Frank. He was at Cantor Fitzgerald, on the 101st floor of the World Trade Center’s North Tower.

Then the first plane struck.

In the minute that followed, I could hear Morty spring into action, trying to calm the panic around him. Twenty-five years later, that memory remains indelible: my friend, confronted with something terrifying, trying to help the people beside him.

I believe I may have been the last person outside that building to speak with Morty. I cannot know that for certain, but the possibility has stayed with me ever since.

I had attended his wedding the year before. I had met his parents, his sisters and, of course, his wife. Having shared in their happiness, I have carried a small, persistent sense of guilt about being on the other end of that final conversation. It is a difficult feeling to explain, even now.

Five years ago, I wrote in these pages about losing Morty. On this 25th anniversary, I return to his memory with a growing conviction that remembrance carries an obligation.

Living in Park City, I sometimes feel farther removed from that morning by geography than by the years that have passed. The beauty of this place can make the horror of that day seem unimaginable. An entire generation, including my daughter, now knows 9/11 only through photographs, classroom lessons and the recollections of others.

Those of us who remember have a responsibility to help them understand.

Like Pearl Harbor, Sept. 11 deserves an enduring place in our national memory. Each name belongs to a person whose life mattered, whose absence changed a family forever. When we speak of thousands lost, we must still make room for one friend, one marriage, one unfinished life.

We must also remember what that morning revealed about the struggle between freedom and tyranny.

The terrorists who carried out 9/11 served an extremist ideology that claimed religious authority to justify mass murder. That ideology stands in direct opposition to the conviction that every person possesses inherent dignity and the right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. These ideals must endure.

The conflict is fundamental. A free society recognizes our right to worship according to conscience, speak without fear, question authority and choose our leaders. Authoritarian theocracy demands submission to rulers who claim the power to dictate belief and punish dissent. Where such power prevails, individual rights exist only at the pleasure of those who rule.

We should be clear about that distinction. We should be equally clear that no religion or population bears collective guilt for the crimes of terrorists. Freedom of religion belongs among the liberties we are defending, and it belongs to everyone.

Diplomacy requires precision and judgment. It also requires the moral confidence to condemn deliberate cruelty without qualification. The intentional murder of innocent people is evil. Understanding the forces that result in such violence does not diminish the responsibility of those who choose it.

But 9/11 also revealed extraordinary goodness.

First responders entered buildings others were fleeing. People helped injured strangers. The passengers and crew of Flight 93 fought back, preventing their hijackers from reaching their intended target. And on the 101st floor of the North Tower, my friend tried to calm those around him.

Their actions give substance to words such as courage, duty and humanity. They remind us what is worth defending, and what that defense can demand. The words “Let’s roll” still carry the weight of that sacrifice.

Twenty-five years without another attack of the same scale must never persuade us that the ideology behind 9/11 no longer poses a threat. Protecting a free society requires vigilance, capable institutions, cooperation with allies that value freedom and the resolve to confront those who would destroy it.

It also requires fidelity to our own principles. Our Constitution, religious liberty, due process and the right to dissent are essential to the country we are protecting. We must preserve them even when fear makes doing so difficult.

Here in Park City, remembrance can take practical form. We can pause in our schools and public gatherings. We can tell our children about the people whose lives were taken and the choices others made to help. We can honor first responders, service members and families who continue to carry the consequences of that day.

We can also approach our disagreements with a greater sense of proportion. Democracy depends on vigorous debate. It depends, too, on recognizing that our neighbors share a stake in the freedoms that allow us to disagree.

As a council member, I believe communities help sustain that understanding. As Morty’s friend, I feel a more personal duty: to keep his name, his life and his courage from fading into an anniversary.

When I think of 9/11, I return to that phone call. I remember a man whose wedding I had attended, whose family I had met, and whose instinct in a moment of terror was to help.

That is the memory I carry forward.

We owe Morty and everyone taken that day our remembrance. We owe the generations that follow our determination to preserve the freedom and human dignity that were so violently attacked.

Bill Ciraco is a member of the Park City Council.

The post 25 years later, remembrance is a responsibility appeared first on Park Record.

As a Park City Council member, my 14-day trip to Italy during the Milano Cortina 2026 Olympics offered fresh, first-hand insights for our 2034 hosting role — and netted some American Express SkyMiles (though Visa’s Olympic exclusivity had me wishing for more flexible options).

Focusing on Bormio, Cortina d’Ampezzo, and Milan, the experience sparked three Park Record guest editorials: one on Bormio’s quieter crowds, another praising Cortina’s lively spirit, and a third exploring transport hurdles.

These shared my early thoughts, but let’s expand on the groundwork from acting Park City Manager Jodi Emery and Summit County Manager Shayne Scott’s March 6 joint debrief. Their overview covered the Games’ larger scope than 2002, venue demands, and priorities like snowplowing — vital for Park City (ZIP 84060) and unincorporated Summit County (ZIP 84098).

While they highlighted operational lessons from spots like Cortina, they didn’t dive into ideas like pre- and post-Games visitor strategies or app-guided spectator events during the Games.

Blending my onsite observations with reports from The Sports Examiner and Olympics.com, I’ll add layers on experience, economy and legacy to help Park City flourish thoughtfully before, during and beyond 2034.

Bormio’s men’s alpine venue, while showcasing strong local support for stars like Dominik Paris, felt more subdued than anticipated, with lighter crowds in town. This reflected the Games’ innovative but ambitious spread over 22,000 square kilometers, which aimed for sustainability yet posed integration challenges.

Cortina shone as the “Queen of the Dolomites,” with enthusiastic audiences for women’s races, sliding events, curling and a vibrant Corso Italia pedestrian area.

Milan delivered smooth urban access for hockey, highlighting Italy’s creative development of blighted sites.

Overall, the format provided valuable lessons in balancing reach with cohesion. For Park City, our compact venues — Park City Mountain and Deer Valley in 84060, Utah Olympic Park in 84098 — give us a head start, but call for smart connections to build that shared excitement.

Drawing from these, here are six key takeaways, enhancing the managers’ ops focus with my community-minded strategy items:

First, our close-knit venues sidestep some of Italy’s dispersion hurdles, but we should define clear buckets of responsibility among Park City, along with Summit and Wasatch counties, and the Organizing Committee.

Italy’s approach, while forward-thinking, encountered tensions during the pre-Olympic readiness phase. Emery and Scott astutely flagged roles. Let’s advance this with protocols for collaboration — Organizing Committee insights on 84060 venue planning, our voice on spectator activation.

This dovetails with the debrief’s 12-month agreement timeline, strengthening partnerships. Regional collaboration stumbles when communication isn’t a two-way street.

Second, build an economic plan to share benefits equitably across our area, with focused drives for visitation before and after the Games, an angle not spotlighted in the March 6 discussion.

Milano Cortina’s €5.3 billion impact was impressive, though distribution varied by location. We want to avoid 2002’s visitation dips from spectators and locals steering clear.

Instead, launch a pre-Games warm-up push with inviting shoulder-season happenings on Main Street (84060) and in Kimball Junction (84098), plus a post-Games encore to extend the glow via community festivals. Harness data for targeted transportation, pop-ups, and chamber collaborations, fostering balanced growth that supports residents and businesses without overload.

Third, create a “Spectator Olympics” — a complementary lineup syncing with competitions to include everyone, with or without tickets. Italy’s fan areas added welcome energy off-site, though fuller ties could have amplified it.

In Park City, craft an app with a tailored non-comp schedule: watch parties, Main Street concerts, Eccles Center performances (84060), art pieces at City Park and Kimball Junction (84060/84098), local vendor eats, pin trading spots, and lighthearted winter contests at City Park.

This guides visitors to enriching spots, boosting local vitality and participation. Linking with the Organizing Committee could echo Italy’s home-team advantage (30 medals, 76% rise) by driving broader support for our athletes. Celebrations hit harder with wins, but every participant deserves applause.

Fourth, probe added venues or upgrades for resilience and legacy. Milano Cortina introduced ski mountaineering and repurposed historic venues, though access issues offered room for improvement.

Locally, prep weather contingencies: consider a cross-country contingency at White Pine Touring’s Nordic trails (84060) if snow’s sparse like this year. Could a golf course irrigation revamp enable snowmaking capability?

Many 2034 events will reuse 2002 venues, but curling’s temporary convention center plan? Let’s chat with the Organizing Committee about hosting it in a permanent facility that serves us for decades after the Games with much-needed additional ice surface.

Could we weave in cultural and arts elements with our Games offerings and sustain them post-Games? This capitalizes on our foundations, meets IOC eco standards, and delivers ongoing community wins.

Fifth, streamline planning and permits diligently, prioritizing permanent assets that deliver value from day one, through the Games, and for generations — an element expanding the debrief’s legacy talk.

Italy’s efforts, like Cortina’s gondola project, showed dedication but faced timeline pressures, pushing costs higher.

Unlike 2002’s short-lived transport fixes — useful then, absent now — opt for enduring ones: China Bridge parking overhaul, Richardson Flat Park and Ride with Snow Park aerial, Main Street-Snow Park connector. These tackle current needs, manage Games flows, and enhance daily life afterward — perhaps even for a future Olympics? This is what real sustainability looks like.

Skip temporary overflows. They’re fleeting investments. Bolster planners with extra staff and Olympic-specific workflows — no cranes in ’34 skies. This resonates with the managers’ early planning emphasis and “2035 Vision” engagements, making the Games a springboard for thoughtful progress.

Sixth, we should think now about our city’s branding and imaging. You couldn’t walk 10 meters in Cortina without seeing something emblazoned with “Cortina.” Perhaps we should dedicate some time to developing a branding plan for the city, which would include professionally designed images and logos that express our pride in Park City.

This should include pins, as well. We should consider pins for all of our customer-facing city departments, as well as for the city at large. The reason we do this is because this brings people together at the Olympics, creating greater engagement with our culture and history.

The March 6 blueprint lays a well-traveled path: 12-month pacts, knowledge shares, 2028 L.A. observations. Milano Cortina’s highlights, from 23 million viewers to programs inspiring 1.5 million students, motivate us.

By enhancing links, teaming on duties, sharing economic perks with smart timing, launching “Spectator Olympics,” and committing to lasting builds, Park City and Summit County can craft a standout event.

It respects our alpine roots while securing enduring gains for 84060/84098 folks, promoting togetherness, sustainability and well-being past the torch’s glow.

Bill Ciraco is a member of the Park City Council.

The post Lessons from Milano Cortina, and a blueprint for Park City in 2034 appeared first on Park Record.

The morning of my drive from Cortina down to Milan became my own personal adventure in alpine and sliding events. As I prepared to fit the “snow socks” provided for my rental car — equipped with summer tires — a friendly local waved them off: “You don’t need those; you’ve got Xdrive.” I’ll take front-wheel drive with proper snow tires over all-wheel drive on summer rubber any day, especially on snowy roads.

Channeling my best Mikaela Shiffrin impression from her slalom the day before, I navigated the descent without missing a single gate or hairpin turn. When I finally reached the main road at the bottom, relief washed over me — almost as palpably as Mikaela’s when she claimed gold. Almost, but not quite.

Cortina was extraordinary. Its beauty defies description; words fall short of capturing the majesty of the place. The ski infrastructure is remarkable — imagine staying in Park City yet accessing every major slope in the central Wasatch via interconnected trails and lifts in the same day. (One exception: a charming, old-school horse-powered rope tow, which I’ll return to shortly.)

The Milano Cortina Games adopted the slogan “It’s Your Vibe,” and Cortina embodied that vibrancy perfectly. Bobsled, luge, skeleton, curling and women’s alpine events were all within easy reach. You could walk to the shuttle for alpine competitions, and the same held true for the sliding center. Curling took place just a five-minute stroll from the end of Corso Italia, the town’s famed pedestrian main street (with a little less grade than ours).

While some aspects could have been smoother — such as the Park City delegation enduring over two hours of traffic returning from Anterselva — few places could rival the authenticity and genuine warmth of the Italian hosts. I’m confident Utah will rise to the occasion when its time comes.

The day before Mikaela’s triumph, I had my own modest victory. I caught a shuttle from Cortina to the Lagazuoi tram, which climbs roughly 2,500 vertical feet to the summit of a dramatic, jagged peak.

From there, you can ski for miles. About three miles down from the tram, you reach a flat valley floor stretching roughly a mile. For just 5€, a horse-drawn rope tow pulls you onward to Armentarola. At that point, I was nearly 15 kilometers (nine miles) as the crow flies from my starting point, but I had grander plans: tackling the Sellaronda, a legendary 30 km (19-mile) loop spanning seven ski areas amid some of the most breathtaking Dolomite scenery imaginable.

I still had about four more miles to cover on skis and lifts before joining the Sellaronda circuit. It was already around 10:40 a.m. when I reached the Lagazuoi tram (having arrived just before 10), and I needed to return to Armentarola by lift close at 4:30 p.m. to catch the bus back to Cortina. I’ve never carved so many high-speed giant slalom and super-G turns in my life, mile after mile on pristine corduroy.

I was on a mission. The previous night, Sophie Goldschmidt from U.S. Ski & Snowboard had added my name to the guest list for their closing dinner in Cortina. There, I met passionate supporters, team members and others. They mentioned their group planned to ski the Sellaronda the next day and invited me to join.

Wary of complicating logistics, I simply said I’d try to catch up with them on the mountain. Once my skis were on, the hunt was on for those signature U.S. Ski Team parkas.

When I reached Corvara — my entry point to the Sellaronda — I realized I hadn’t yet started my Ski Tracks app. By 10:56 a.m., I was already about six miles in. With tracking activated, I went on to log another 22.3 miles, 18,000 vertical feet, 19 runs, and 18 lifts, hitting a top speed of 55 mph. I paused for an unforgettable lunch at Rifugio Comici, a seafood-focused mountain-top gem in the Dolomites—insalata mista and spaghetti con vongole, worth every minute of the hour-long break. Thanks to directional guidance from my new Polish friend Martin, I made it back to Armentarola in time for the 4:30 shuttle, exhausted yet exhilarated.

The pass for this epic day cost far more than the 80€ single-mountain ticket I’d bought earlier, yet it granted access to 10 resorts, nearly 30 miles of skiing, and over 20 lifts for just 87€ — about $103 USD at the time. Buonissimo!

A day later, Mikaela would solidify her legacy as the GOAT with her slalom gold. Meanwhile, I navigated a harrowing six-hour drive (normally four, or 11 by public transit) through a heavy snowstorm that dumped a foot in Cortina, arriving safely at my Milan hotel before 6 p.m. I had a ticket to the women’s gold-medal hockey game and was eager to watch our U.S. team take on Canada.

From the hotel, I rode the subway three stops to a transfer point, dashed up the stairs, and caught a streetcar that had just pulled up a couple hundred yards away — heading exactly where I needed.

About an hour later, as the puck dropped, I rushed through efficient yet thorough security and into the arena. Just before entering, representatives from the Professional Women’s Hockey League were handing out pins, surrounded by Canadian fans (and likely Canadians themselves).

I quipped, “If I promise to root for Canada to win … the silver medal, can I have a pin?” They laughed good-naturedly and handed one over, appreciating the jab.

The Canadian fan seated behind me, however, was less amused. All game long, he chirped relentlessly: obnoxious remarks about the U.S. women, demanding penalties on every strong defensive play.

“That’s what happens when you can’t skate,” he sneered after one of our players was knocked down. Or, “She’s a goon” for a physical style of play. For 57 minutes, he savored impending victory. Then our team snatched it away.

Normally, I’d thank or congratulate nearby opposing fans. This time, all I could think was that the “ugly American” stereotype had been flipped — courtesy of a Canadian.

Bill Ciraco is a Park City Council member.

The post Cortina was extraordinary appeared first on Park Record.

Leaving Bormio was bittersweet. The town is stunning, steeped in history, and the food — pure Italy.

On my final night, my hotelier recommended a local spot for pizzoccheri, the hearty Valtellina buckwheat pasta with potatoes, cabbage, cheese and butter. It was delicious. Both she and the restaurant owner offered the same verdict: The Olympics felt like it had perhaps one-third the energy of the World Cup races Bormio hosts each December.

Eager for Cortina d’Ampezzo, I checked Apple Maps — defaulting to public transit, naturally — and got a daunting 16 hours and 45 minutes. The road distance is about 216 miles, so I switched to driving: five hours and 30 minutes.

Skeptical, I set out. Forty-five minutes in, the route narrowed to a twisting two-lane road that made Utah’s Mine Road feel like a superhighway. Leaving Tirano (the train-bus transfer point for Bormio), I climbed five miles and gained nearly 2,400 feet — straight up, with an average grade over 9 percent.

The drive confirmed what I’d suspected in the dark on the way to Bormio: The scenery is jaw-dropping, and the miles of tunnels Italians have carved through these mountains are engineering marvels that tame otherwise brutal ascents.

As I headed toward Bolzano and the Brenner Pass, my definition of stunning needed recalibrating. Entering the Dolomites — a UNESCO World Heritage site for its sheer natural beauty — took my breath away.

I’d visited Cortina last March with my daughter, Bella, but approaching from this direction was entirely new and utterly breathtaking. A quick disclaimer: Do not attempt what I did on the final winding 10 miles into town, steering with one hand while filming the landscape with the other. If Peter Jackson needs a location scout for the next Lord of the Rings, I’ve found his Middle-earth.

Cortina d’Ampezzo, the “Queen of the Dolomites,” lives up to the title. This lovely, lively town is flanked by dramatic peaks and pulses with la dolce vita. During these Olympics, it hosts women’s alpine events, curling and sliding sports (bobsled, luge, skeleton). With one or two events nearly every day, the place hums with an energy that was noticeably absent in Bormio.

The women’s alpine races at the Tofane center have delivered thrills and, unfortunately, spills for Lindsey Vonn in the downhill and Breezy Johnson in the super-G.

Before I arrived in Cortina, Breezy Johnson claimed gold in the downhill with a time of 1:36.10, edging Germany’s Emma Aicher by a razor-thin 0.04 seconds, while Italy’s Sofia Goggia took bronze to delight the home crowd.

Federica Brignone, the local star, added to the Italian medal haul with a commanding gold in the super-G the day I arrived and another in the giant slalom on Sunday, her second gold of the Games. Mikaela Shiffrin battled but finished just off the podium in the GS.

These high-stakes races have packed the slopes and infused the town with an electric atmosphere. Breezy Johnson also picked up another gold medal of sorts: an engagement ring. Breezy, if you’re reading this, I’d be happy to arrange an honorary key to the city for you (though there’s a long list of local Olympians ahead of you on that list).

Curling at the Olympic Stadium has brought its own drama: round-robin matches featuring upsets, comebacks (like the U.S. women stealing points in late ends against China), and even controversy over stone-touching violations involving teams like Canada and Britain.

The daily action — often multiple draws — creates a constant hum of competition and crowd energy. This could be a nice addition for the greater Park City region.

On my first full day in Cortina, the glorious weather tempted me to rent skis and buy an 80€ day pass (about $96). I rode the Funivia Faloria tram almost straight up the east side of Cortina, skiing just over the edge of a 1,000-foot cliff — 2,000 feet above town. From there, high-speed chairs fan out across the north flank of the mountain. The views that were already breathtaking from town became otherworldly 3,000 feet higher.

The snowmaking and grooming here in Italy seem like an obsession, and they’re fantastic. As such, you can ski fast, though not as fast as the Olympians. That being said, I did top 53 mph (no, not kilometers!).

The second evening, I dined at a longtime local favorite where everything is made from scratch. The menu blends regional dishes with subtle German influences (this area changed hands during World War I) alongside exceptional homemade pastas and pizzas so refined and flavorful that I immediately started planning the next night’s order.

Because the restaurant was running on all cylinders and then some, when I arrived by myself and asked for a table for one, the lovely host at Il Ponte asked me in Italian: Ti dispiacerebbe sederti a un tavolo per quattro con un’altra coppia?

I astutely deduced that if I didn’t join the couple waiting behind me at a table, I wasn’t going to get any delicious pizza that evening. Luckily, they were from Bristol in the UK, so I assured them that I spoke the language. Not Italian, but theirs.

I did have to confess that I have only been to London and that my UK geography was pretty much limited to London, Manchester, Liverpool (thank you, Beatles) and Jeremy Clarkson’s farm in the Cotswolds! A hat tip to Park Record columnist Tom Clyde, who turned me on to “Clarkson’s Farm” on Amazon. It really is must-see TV.

After dinner, I wandered Cortina. Unlike Bormio, car traffic isn’t heavily restricted here, making strolling a bit trickier, except along the famed, always-pedestrian Corso Italia. Lined with boutiques, cafés, bars, restaurants and hotels, it’s the heart of town. Here you’ll find the Olympic cauldron and the Omega countdown clock, now reading 00:00:00:00 as the Games roll on in full swing.

Cortina delivers the festive Olympic atmosphere fans crave. The contrast with Bormio underscores a key lesson for future hosts: Spreading events across regions is ambitious and inclusive, but concentrating enough action in key venues helps sustain that unmistakable Olympic buzz.

Park City could do Cortina one better — if we can conquer the transportation challenge.

Next installment: More from the Milano Cortina 2026 Games.

Bill Ciraco is a member of the Park City Council.

The post Impressions from Italy: The queen of the Dolomites appeared first on Park Record.

My journey to Milan included a nearly five-hour layover in Paris despite my efforts to switch to an earlier Delta flight with open seats — my original later flight was sold out.

I appealed to basic economics: Why not fill an empty seat now and free up another for resale later? No dice. Delta called it a “voluntary change,” so I’d have to pay the fare difference. Curiously, they credit you only what you originally paid, while charging the current (higher) rate for the new seat.

When I asked how I could reprice my ticket and make Delta pay the difference on an involuntary change, customer service seemed stumped. Lesson learned: Diamond Medallion status and a ticket get you on the plane — nothing more.

Arriving at Milan’s Linate Airport (their compact version of New York’s LaGuardia) after 8 p.m. left few convenient options to reach Bormio, about 140 miles north in the Italian Alps.

The last public transit would take six hours, with the risk of missing the final train-to-shuttle connection in Tirano. Fortunately, I’d tracked Sixt Rent a Car prices for weeks and locked in a Volvo XC40 for 10 days at 666€ — I chose to ignore the symbolic number.

In the prior three weeks, similar rentals ranged from 980€ to 1,257€. Then, six days before pickup, prices dropped to my reserved level for a fully cancellable booking. Shortly after I confirmed, they spiked — peaking at 2,486€ on Feb. 7, just two days before I picked up the car.

Key takeaway for Olympic travel: Build in flexibility with advance reservations. Options matter. My rental saved me three and a half hours on that late-evening arrival.

The drive to Bormio was spectacular, or so I assume since it was pitch dark the entire way. Traffic was nonexistent. Within five minutes of leaving the airport, I engaged driver assist and set cruise control to 120 kilometers per hour. As Nate Bargatze might ask: “How fast is that?” “Nobody knows.”

I reached Bormio around 10:45 p.m. The town felt eerily quiet, like the night before Christmas — not a creature stirring. Odd, given no race the next morning. Bormio has two faces: the modern entry with a tree-lined, two-lane boulevard and wide pedestrian areas, and then Old Town, a 2,000-year-old gem with buildings dating back over 500 years. Romans marching toward the Stelvio Pass discovered the natural hot springs here. The rest is history.

On Tuesday, I enjoyed a wonderful breakfast at my hotel, Hotel Meuble Cima Bianca—just a five-minute walk to the Stelvio Race Course base. My third-floor room even has a balcony overlooking the finish line (not bad for a Feb. 2 booking). After eating, I wandered Old Town’s car-restricted streets, which made exploring easy and delightful. Yet as I toured, one question kept arising: Where was everyone?

Italy’s afternoon siesta is famous, but between noon and 3 p.m., nearly everything —s hops, many restaurants — was closed. Piazza Cavour, the central square, had perhaps 60 people milling about at lunchtime. It could easily hold hundreds.

That evening at 8 (early by Italian standards), I passed eight restaurants that were at best half full. The upside: no reservations needed, and plenty of delicious choices. I eventually settled on a small pizza restaurant called Pizza da Lollo. I walked in and straight in view was their pizza oven, they had me at pi…

At dinner, I chatted with a Swiss couple who’d been in Cortina earlier and in Bormio for two days. They asked the same question: “Where is everyone?” Cortina felt lively and festive, they said. Perhaps hosting women’s alpine events, bobsled, luge, skeleton and curling created a critical mass of spectators missing in Bormio, which had only men’s alpine.

Italy spread the Olympic events nationwide, a laudable goal that nearly required using Lake Placid as a sliding backup. But it risks diluting energy, fan experience and complicating logistics. 

This couple had also spent a day in Livigno, which is host to the freestyle events in skiing and snowboarding. They described Livigno in the way I thought Bormio would be — lively, electric and abuzz with Olympic fever. If it is the freestyle events that bring the party, we are fortunate that Deer Valley and Park City Mountain will be hosting all of them in 2034.

Men’s alpine often has one- or two-day gaps between events, leaving voids that non-competition activities struggle to fill. World Cup races here likely draw more buzz. It’s a shame. Bormio deserved better.

On Wednesday, I watched the men’s super-G. In the final field of 32, four Americans competed, led by Ryan Cochran-Siegle, who claimed his second straight Olympic super-G silver medal. With warm temperatures (about 37°F at the base) and sun breaking through clouds, early racers held an edge. Cochran-Siegle, starting third, charged into first, only to be edged by Swiss skier Franjo von Allmen a few racers later. The course slowed slightly, and the early lead held. It was a fantastic day for Team USA in Bormio.

During the medal ceremony, a small group of American spectators gathered for photos while cheering for Cochran-Siegle. I introduced myself and met Nina Lussi, a board member of U.S. Ski & Snowboard. Her aunt, Cristina Lussi, planned my wife Alyse’s and my wedding at the Lake Placid Club in 2003. The Olympics truly bring the world together.

Next stop is Cortina D’Ampezzo. Stay tuned for my next installment from the Milano Cortina games.

Bill Ciraco is a member of the Park City Council.

The post Olympic impressions: Bormio crowds sparse, energy underwhelming appeared first on Park Record.

First a disclaimer. I am not writing in my role as a city councilor or on behalf of the Park City Council. I am, like many of you, also a resident of Summit County who feels a deep obligation to think about how we shape our future.

Times change; people don’t. In my college days you could predict the daily appearance of a letter to the editor in the school paper that started off, “I am shocked and appalled …” The current cause du jour is the recent approval of a vastly evolved development proposal for property owned by Dakota Pacific in Kimball Junction, and the effort to overturn it California style, by referendum.

There are many people who will agree Dakota Pacific has done a number of things wrong. Let’s review those faults.

First, this being Utah, they have committed the cardinal sin of being from the “valley.” People here in Summit County love their teams, and folks from the valley are perceived to be not on the team. This may explain why they might incorporate as their own municipality.

Then they had the temerity to propose what is likely the most well-thought-out development proposal that Kimball Junction has seen since the time when the only thing between Parley’s Pass and Tollgate Canyon was the Kimball Stage Stop. 

Next, they chose the ground-breaking path to seek a change of zoning/entitlement for the property. This is something no developer or landowner has ever done. This violates the time-tested mantra of “build what you bought.” I mean it is not like Park City took a former rail yard that was zoned commercial, changed the code and created the Engine House workforce housing project. Clearly that could not happen under “build what you bought.”

Last but not least, Dakota Pacific let it be known that they have some allies in the state Legislature that could help light a fire under UDOT to address the issues at Kimball Junction that Dakota Pacific has not caused. You know, all that traffic that was created by projects that are far less thoughtful than what is currently approved.

All of this has led to a Covid-like outbreak of ULDS (Utah Legislature Derangement Syndrome). I am not here to tell those who are afflicted that you are wrong, or that you should support your county council, which along with staff spent thousands of hours working to get you a better outcome. A vastly better outcome. 

Sure, those of you who dusted off the red shirt a couple of times deserve some of the credit. But your planning commission, planning department, county managers and council who have somehow negotiated one of the most restrictive, and protective, development agreements that you will likely ever see deserve the lion’s share.

Are there major issues in our region? Yes. Can we do more to address them? Yes.  Kimball Junction is broken and this project is the first step in beginning to address it. 

Prior to the negotiation and evolution there was no transit parking proposed for Kimball Junction to support the $75 million-$100 million Bus Rapid Transit Plan. I don’t think I can support that kind of investment without the dedicated parking capture we are now getting. The transit improvements are a good start and will serve to motivate my jurisdiction to act boldly on our other entry corridor to the east.

I am not telling you to support or not support the project, or referendum. What I am here to say is that every resident of Summit County owes the council a debt of gratitude for the work they have done and the deal they have negotiated. And I say that as someone who has not voted for all of them. Doesn’t matter; they represent us all. 

I hear you when you say we need bold and drastic change. I have talked about that in detail — even with some of you who are signing the petition on the referendum. In many of those conversations, I often hear, “Oh, we don’t need to do that. The problem isn’t that bad.” Well, it is that bad and no, this project won’t make it worse.

I would ask all of you to be honest with yourself and think about whether we can say “no” to everything and just stick our head in the sand because we don’t like it. The only result we get from that is one we will like exponentially less than what we have negotiated now.

Governance California style by referendum is something we should all be wary of.

Bill Ciraco is a member of the Park City Council.

The post Flawed development still much better than alternatives appeared first on Park Record.

Twelve months have sped by as if three months. I recall showing up in January at the Statehouse for the Utah League of Cities and Towns work sessions. Walking into that room was intimidating. The legislative session went by fast, but not as fast as I was driving back up to Park City after Police Chief Wade Carpenter was honored by both chambers of the Statehouse. 

My excuse? I was on the phone with the chair of the Summit County Council, trying to figure out how to work with the county. Lesson learned. 

In May I joined the City Tour trip and wrestled with the strangeness of having been on the other side of that trip one year prior as a member of Leadership Class 29. It is a miracle Councilman Parigian, Planning Commissioner Johnson and Transportation Director Tim Sanderson didn’t conspire to tie me to a gondola cabin in Telluride after hundreds of questions about transportation and planning.

Earlier this year, the council voted to not destroy the Mine Bench up in Ontario Canyon with a workforce housing dorm. I didn’t support it, not because I felt we don’t need more workforce housing, but rather because I felt this was absolutely the wrong place. 

I can’t help but remember one of the city’s most strident supporters and critics state “not all open space is equal” in his impassioned plea to keep the natural connectivity across the mine road at the bench. I was glad to hear that sentiment, and I was glad to hear my colleagues state how committed they were to workforce housing.

I am too. It just needs to be in the right place and it shouldn’t make our existing problems worse. Done right, it should serve as a catalyst that forces us to address issues in a transformative way.

July brought a great (self planned and funded) trip to Switzerland and France, where as you might have guessed I devoted eight days to understanding how transportation really is the key to shaping our built environment in a way that all but the most ardent history revisionist could appreciate.

The 2034 Olympics. Seems like people are sorting into three categories here. Those that are ambivalent — understandably so. Nine-and-half years is a long way in the future and there are plenty of pressing issues to consider.

There are those who embrace the games and see them as an opportunity to evolve, transform and reflect on what we do well so we can share it with pride. We should also reflect on what could be done better so that we can seize the pending games as a catalyst to make those adjustments and to innovate for a better future. 

Then there are those who can’t see a silver lining even if they were Holly Golightly in a vault at Tiffany’s. You know who these people are. They are the ones when you reminisce about the 2023-24 ski season remind you that it wasn’t as good as the 2022-23 ski season. 

We need these people. They give those of us who see a brighter future a sense of purpose, a reason for being. They inspire us to get up each day and make that to-do list. 

And they ask the questions that many are afraid to ask and even more are afraid to confront. These are the people who have ushered in a new wave of dog whistle words and phrases.  You know, like “luxury homes” or “million dollar restaurants,” or even simply the “Olympics” — ominous tone included. 

They decry homes they can see but don’t own, but rarely ever their own. It feels like the criticism is less about architecture and more about how dare you flaunt your wealth. I find that an interesting juxtaposition in a town with 120 nonprofits whose status is so influential it made for the entire storyline of a “Follies” show not too long ago. And if you really want to understand flaunt, spend some time in Aspen.

Whether your house is insulated with copies of The Park Record from 1898 or blown in insulation circa 2020, we all live in glass houses. It is worth considering putting the stones down. We all love PC in our own way. 

The mining history in Park City was a defining time that when it was said and done, barely left this place a reason to live on. I cherish that history. Yet the core of that existence is exactly what is at the core of our current existence, a different gold rush.  Don’t think for a minute that if economics had sustained mining here for another 50 years that this town would not have been an uninhabitable super fund site. What appreciation would we have for that history?

We shouldn’t judge history in a vacuum, as is fashionable. We all see the damage the mining industry wrought on the landscape, but can also appreciate how it helped our country flourish through the industrial age. 

I choose to look at tourism, the ski business, the Olympics and “luxury” homes the same way. Not all bad, not all good, but it is what we are. Bemoaning it or reminiscing for the golden age of polluted air, waterways and soils is not how I choose to see it.

I encourage all of you to engage, listen, share and look forward for common goals or ideals and resolve to work towards them. We have an amazing patchwork quilt of older buildings on Main Street whose architecture is mostly of a time long since passed. We work hard to protect and preserve it.

Does that mean we are immune from the passage of time. No, we are not. Life at its core is evolutionary, and we cannot escape that. We have and will make mistakes, but the forward-looking orientation is what allows us to correct and put them behind us. 

Yes, we are talking about some revitalization efforts for the core Main Street area. No, that will not result in us losing that historic charm any more than the Jewish Quarter in Rome has lost it as the city has grown around it for 2,000 years.

Park City is as much a ski town today as it was a mining town 100 years ago. Let’s stop pretending that it isn’t. Then we can focus on addressing the parts that don’t serve residents or visitors as well as they should. Simply admitting that some things should be better is not an indictment of those that came before us. We are not clairvoyant. If we were Park City might never have been a mining town to begin with.

Bill Ciraco is a first-term Park City councilor.

The post Respectful of past, we must look ahead appeared first on Park Record.

Editor’s note: This is the last of a series of commentaries by Park City Councilor Bill Ciraco about public transportation in Europe.

After a splendid two days in Zermatt, I made my way back to Zurich for my flight to Paris to attend the Salt Lake 2034 Olympic bid presentation. The Zurich airport had me thinking about what SLC International might be like when the current project is finished, with more international flights and even more frequent transit connections.

In the air heading toward Paris, it was easy to see the effect Switzerland’s transportation policy has on the built environment. Not more than five miles from downtown Zurich, the landscape was a patchwork quilt of farms and forest, each community distinct and separate from the next. 

You could easily see when you were leaving one place and a few miles later were entering a new place. Communities have an identity. They don’t bleed one into the next. There was something magical about this collage of settlement dotting the verdant landscape.

Arriving at Charles De Gaulle in Paris, you could tell that the world was descending here. The hotel I chose to stay at was one I stayed at before and coincidentally was next to the Le Palais De Congres, where the IOC meeting was being held. 

This location is great because it is served by a subway stop with multiple lines, a commuter rail line, and, new since the last time I stayed there, an at grade light rail (“tram”) that stops literally across the street. You can get most anywhere in Paris in 30 minutes or less.

Inside of the watch party, most of Utah’s media was represented as we watched with pride the presentation made by the folks who have been working tirelessly for years to bring this home. 

But leave it to the IOC and by extension the World Anti Doping Agency to add a little last minute drama. Unhappy with U.S. skepticism around recent athlete doping cases, most recently highlighted in a New York Time investigative piece, WADA used the bid stage to scold the Utah delegation and by extension the U.S. government for meddling with their “supreme” authority. 

Yes, we were told to submit to WADA’s “supreme” authority a mere blocks from the The Avenue des Champs-Élysées, where nearly 80 years ago to the day, U.S. troops from Gen.Patton’s 3rd Army along with French Resistance marched proudly upon liberating Paris from the Germans. A whole lot of irony was lost in this moment. 

For one lecturing the Utah delegation about any kind of doping seems tone deaf, and then questioning the U.S. commitment to the world community in a place that exists today solely because of the U.S. commitment to the world community wrung a bit hollow with me.

Should our sporting officials be criticized for not believing that 21 swimmers tested positive for a performance enhancing substance because of escape from a wet market vs. a lab? 

The Olympics will only remain the Olympics if we maintain consistent standards in testing for performance enhancing substances. The only “supreme” authority in that regard is the truth, and we should trust, but we should also verify. The stakes are too high and the sacrifices are too many for the athletes involved.

Looking back, I can say with conviction that I am very happy I made this entire trip.  The time spent in Switzerland renewed my passion for championing game-changing transportation solutions for Park City and Salt Lake. What I saw in action in Grindelwald and Zermatt seem even more sensical to me now and hopefully I have stirred some curiosity among the readership, too. We can’t afford to not embrace these bold examples.

We have an opportunity ahead of us to create a way of life that will be coveted by many. We can in some respects have our cake and eat it too. We simply need to think bold and act bravely. 

None of what we need to do is for the Olympics, but the Olympics create a timeline and an incentive to invest for the future. We need to implement solutions today that solve our problems for the next 50-100 years. 

My travel through Switzerland has shown me that it works and that the rewards are beyond measurement. For us to act boldly on transportation will require everyone to take some medicine, we must be in this together, and we must no longer allow a small minority to hold our entire community back from progress. 

In the spirit of the Olympics, we need to dream big, work hard and seek victory. Even if we fall somewhere short. we will still be far beyond our most optimistic endings.

The post Guest Editorial: Plenty of models for bold transportation moves here appeared first on Park Record.

Editor’s note: Park City Councilor Bill Ciraco is chronicling his exploration of public transportation in Europe in a series of commentaries.

Departing Grindelwald at 2 p.m. I could sense traffic would soon be problematic. Grindelwald, like Park City, has its own concerns about traffic, and given the frequent rail and gondola service available here I wouldn’t be surprised to see it restrict traffic to residents only. 

As I cruised down Grindelwald Strasse in my rented convertible life seemed sweet, and it was about to get sweeter at my next destination.

Zermatt is a mountain village in southern Switzerland bordering Italy. Surrounded by some of the tallest peaks in the Alps, it is a sight to behold. The elevation there is 5,000 feet with the Matterhorn rising to nearly 14,700 feet above. Simply awe inspiring.

Approaching Zermatt from the north, there are a couple of interesting choices. The one I took sent me up a valley just to the west and south of Interlaken towards the town of Kandersteg, where the directions told me to take the ferry! 

Everything about this part of Switzerland is surreal. Valleys at 3,000 with summits at 14,000 feet. Milky turquoise green lakes laden with mineral runoff from glaciers on high summits. And yes I include instructions to take a ferry in the middle of a mountain valley with no lake — surreal.

As I approached Kandersteg, I figured that it wasn’t a “boat” ferry but a train that ferries cars through mountains for 12 miles, delivering me to a switchback-laden perch 1,000 feet above the Rhone Valley.  I was now 30 miles and about 45 minutes from Tasch, where I would be able to park the car and board the Matterhorn-Gotthard Bahn for Zermatt, the one and only way for visitors (unless you are James Bond) to reach the city.

Arriving in Tasch, you are greeted with clear signage directing you to the car park, which is also the train station. In the garage I saw tourists of all stripes park, remove their suitcases and proceed to the train platform. With a wheeled suitcase, I did not need to use any of the numerous and free luggage carts that were available. All of this — parking, making my way to the platform and boarding the train — was easier than finding a parking spot at Dan’s or Whole Foods.

Tasch to Zermatt is five miles, but really much more. It’s as if you boarded platform 9 and 3/4 and ended up in a world of wizardry and magic. With level and zero gap boarding, rolling luggage or your luggage cart on to the train is painless and easy. 

In Zermatt, hotels greet you at the station with their own electric shuttles to whisk you quietly to your hotel. As you make your way up Bahnhofstrasse, you notice you may be the only vehicle on the road.  The sidewalk and street are filled with people. There is a sense of peace and excitement balanced in some Matrix-like juxtaposition. 

It is a symphony of bliss. Cafes alive with coffee, streusel and music. Shopkeepers busy tending to the foot traffic passing their beautifully arranged windows. There is a buzz, but there is even more relaxation with the harried car centric world left behind.

You take a moment and in the late afternoon sun and catch your first glimpse of the Matterhorn, and no matter how many times you have skied Jupiter Bowl, you feel small but not out of place. Here nature places you in a world that demands respect and rewards you with an amazing landscape. I can’t help but think that this would feel so different if I had arrived here in a car on a four-lane super highway into town. 

Zermatt is programmed like this by necessity. There is a two-lane road in, but I am told it makes the way to Tabiona look like the autobahn. It is restricted to freight, delivery, etc. Half of the deliveries in come via the road and the other half via the railroad. 

As tourism and local wealth began to blossom after World War II, Zermatt decided that with their narrow streets and dead-end status, they were going to think differently about cars. They did, and it has made this place one of the most special on Earth to visit. 

Zermatt controls the flow of tourism into town by providing a better and more unique way for people to access it. There are over 3 million annual visitors here, and it runs like a Swiss watch.

On my first (and only) full day in Zermatt, I walked across the plaza from the Hotel Monte Rosa to Zermatt City Hall. I wandered the halls apologizing in German that I didn’t speak any German (Es tut mir lead, ich spreche kein Deutsch) and asking to speak to someone about transportation policy. 

A city staffer named Bernhard Arnold was kind enough to welcome me into his office and speak to me for an hour about transportation policy. Between the two of us, we quickly realized that the problems and pressures that both of our communities face are the same: transportation and housing.

Back to the theme of surreal. It is only fitting that across the street from the train station is the Gornegrat Bahn, a cog wheel railroad that takes 5,000 vertical feet up to the Gornegrat Station for a view of the Matterhorn and Monte Rosa (15,200 feet), both straddling the border with Italy and filled with glaciers. Here at 10,000 feet I looked around at another 5,000 feet of stunning mountain vistas around me. I was speechless. 

If there is a model city worth embracing and working towards, even if it is not possible to get all the way there, Zermatt is that model. I hope we can have the courage and vision to move in this direction. The reward is life-changing.

The post Guest Editorial: What a model for Park City! appeared first on Park Record.

Editor’s note: Park City Councilor Bill Ciraco is chronicling his exploration of public transportation in Europe in a series of commentaries. This is the third.

As wonderful as Zurich was, I was excited to get on with the rest of my itinerary. I had planned on taking the train from Zurich to Interlaken. 

There are around 40 daily connections between the two. Seven of those departures are direct (no transfer) and take one hour and 56 minutes, with five stops. Trips with transfers average two hours and 20 minutes. Drive time following the same general route as the train would be two hours with no traffic or roadwork issues — seemed like a no brainer to take the train. 

There is a slightly faster driving route which takes you through Lucerne — one hour and 45 minutes — which did make me think that perhaps I would rent car and drive so that I could make a stop at the Swiss Museum of Transport in Lucerne. Given that I likely wouldn’t have the opportunity to pass through Lucerne again for quite some time I chose the latter. This would prove to be a mistake.

The objective upon reaching Interlaken was to grab a train to Grindelwald, which would take me 35 minutes with departures every half hour. With this many departures, I wouldn’t need to plan on when to arrive. The drive from Interlaken to Grindelwald takes abut 40 minutes if there was no traffic. With only a two-lane road in that winds up a mountain valley, the train is almost always the faster way.

Regrettably, I chose to stop at the Swiss Museum of Transport in Lucerne, which meant I would need to rent a car and drive. While the museum stop was relatively worthwhile, the drive was not. It ended up taking me three hours and 40 minutes of driving from Zurich to Grindelwald, which is where I would be spending the night. 

The train would have been one hour less, and I could have worked on part two of this series while traveling. Instead I spent a couple hours working after a wonderful dinner at the Hotel Kirchbuhl, which has a Park City connection in Adolph Imboden, formerly and famously of Adolph’s Restaurant.

Upon checking in, I quickly made my way down to Dorfstrasse, which serves as the main thoroughfare in Grindelwald. The sidewalks were reminiscent of Park City, very narrow. What was different was the minuscule number of cars traveling up and down the street. 

People walked on the narrow sidewalks, on the side and even in the middle of the street, moving for the intermittent passing of a car. No one was hurt, there were no accidents, and the shops were abuzz.  Here I could see that the adage — cars don’t buy things, people do — was true. 

Having dinner on the terrace at the hotel was mesmerizing as I looked up in awe of the massive Eiger peak above me. The only sounds were faint conversations in German and English from the neighboring tables and the sound of water cascading off the mountainside in the valley below in the Luitschine River. It is in a place like this where you begin to understand the phrase, heaven on earth.

The following morning I woke early to catch the bus (free for hotel guests) down to Grindelwald Terminal, which is one stop down valley from the main train station and where you can access the Eiger Express Tri-Cable Gondola to take you up to Eigergletscher Station, where you board the Jungfraubahn train for the rest of the ride up through (yes actually through) the Eiger to Jungfraujoch — known as the top of Europe at nearly 12,000 feet. Here you will find an observatory, with indoor and outdoor viewing areas, an amazing Lindt Chocolate shop, a restaurant, a tunnel carved through the glacier for you to walk through, and a hotel.

For the return trip, instead of getting on the gondola down, I stayed on the train down to the Kleine Scheidegg station at 6,700 feet, where I switched to the Wengernalp Bahn for the trip down to Grindelwald at about 3,400 feet of elevation. 

Yes. Your math is correct. You can take a train up 8,500 feet of mountain and walk out on a glacier year-round. Traveling that entire distance on the new Eiger Express Gondola for the first leg took 45 minutes.  The gondola was newly added last year. It reduces the trip on rail only down from one hour and 26 minutes.

I am not looking to convince anyone who is a naysayer, but the Eiger Express Gondola is very similar to what is proposed for Little Cottonwood Canyon. And while I would prefer a rail instead, the gondola that is proposed is an effective and minimally invasive option that you need to experience to understand. It is a thousand times better than the red snake. 

Next stop in my journey is Zermatt, the “car free” resort capital of Europe.

https://network.sbb.ch/en/station/ZUE/target/IO

https://www.verkehrshaus.ch/en/home.html

https://www.kirchbuehl.ch/fr/hotel-kirchbuehl/

https://www.jungfrau.ch/en-gb/

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