St. Mary's Snowfield at 70-Month Low: Climate Threatens Colorado's Summer Skiing

On July 31, 2026, Kevin Hawley, a Steamboat Springs resident on his 70th consecutive month of snowboarding, found the St. Mary's snowfield near Idaho Springs, Colorado, at its lowest level he had ever seen. Carving a few short turns on a thin strip of snow before stopping at a pile of rocks, he voiced a growing fear among summer skiers: that this year, for the first time in memory, the snowfield might become completely unskiable before autumn storms replenish it. St. Mary's, often called a glacier but scientifically classified as a perennial snowfield, is one of the most easily accessible year-round snow patches in Colorado—just 30 minutes from Interstate 70 and a 1.5-mile hike from the trailhead. Its summer persistence has been a reliable feature for centuries, witnessed by the miners who founded the nearby town of Alice in the late 1800s. But Hawley's observation aligns with a broader trend of declining alpine snowpack across the Colorado Rockies, driven by warming temperatures and earlier melting seasons linked to climate change. Scientists note that while true glaciers in Colorado have vanished long ago, perennial snowfields like St. Mary's are remnants of the glaciers that carved the mountains thousands of years ago. Their continued existence depends on a delicate balance between winter accumulation and summer ablation. In recent years, that balance has tilted toward loss. The potential loss of the St. Mary's snowfield this summer would be more than an inconvenience for a small community of dedicated skiers; it would represent a symbolic and tangible milestone in Colorado's climate story. Summer skiing at St. Mary's is a cherished tradition for many, but its disappearance would also signal deeper ecological and hydrological changes. High-altitude snowfields act as mini-reservoirs, slowly releasing meltwater into streams during the driest months. Their decline can affect local water availability, though St. Mary's itself is a relatively small feature. More broadly, the melt of persistent snow patches exposes darker ground, accelerating warming through the albedo feedback loop. The loss of such accessible natural snow also diminishes Colorado's appeal as a year-round outdoor destination, potentially impacting recreation-based local economies. While the immediate cause is the exceptional warmth and low precipitation of summer 2026, the long-term trend is unmistakable. Studies by the Rocky Mountain Climate Organization and others have documented a 2°F average temperature increase in Colorado over the past century, with more dramatic rises at high elevations. Snowmelt now occurs one to three weeks earlier than it did a few decades ago. St. Mary's, sitting at around 11,000 feet, is on the front line of these changes. Looking forward, even if a late-summer storm temporarily revives the snowfield this year, the trajectory suggests that it may become unskiable earlier or disappear entirely in future summers. This would mark a new era for a state where skiing is central to identity and economy. The story of Kevin Hawley and a muddy, shrinking snowfield is a local snapshot, but it echoes global patterns of cryosphere retreat. For climate researchers and adaptation planners, it underscores the urgency of documenting and preserving what remains of Colorado's perennial ice and snow patches before they transition from reliable landmarks to historical artifacts.