Quotes of the Day

The first sign that Lotus Mountain is not Aspen comes from the man skiing down the hill in a pin-striped business suit. Other skiers are dressed in more sporty Gore-Tex outfits, but many share the snow-dusted rear of the man dressed for a day at the office. After all, most of the visitors to this newly built ski resort in China's northeast only began strapping on ski boots in the last couple of years. Few know how to negotiate a gentle slope without a few spills—or realize that the dried squid and sauteed pig kidney on the mountain-lodge menu are not usual ski-resort fare. "Now that Chinese have more money, they are looking for new forms of entertainment," says Yu Huiyang, the vice manager of Lotus Mountain, which opened last year near the northeastern city of Changchun and now draws 1,000 people a day on weekends. "Skiing is seen as a trendy and elegant activity, and many Chinese like to try it so they can gain status in their social circle."

With the country celebrating its first-ever gold medal in a snow event at last month's Torino Olympics—courtesy of male aerial skier Han Xiaopeng—skiing has never been so cool in China. A decade ago, there was only one sizeable ski site in the entire country—Yabuli in northeastern Heilongjiang province—and that was built specifically to host the 1996 Asian Winter Games. Today, there are more than 200 resorts nationwide, and the China Ski Association estimates that Chinese ski slopes will record more than 3 million visits this winter. Although the high price of lift tickets—a day pass at Lotus Mountain costs about $20, roughly equivalent to a local farmer's weekly salary—may limit the sport to yuppies, there's plenty of room for the sport to grow. China's middle class is 50 million strong and, by some estimates, could reach 170 million by 2010. The China

Ski Association predicts that 10 million Chinese could be skiing by then, meaning one out of every seven skiers worldwide could be living in China. "Everyone overseas skis, so why can't we?" asks schoolteacher Hang Mei, whose first-time snowplow is so cautious that she slows to a complete halt on the slope. "China is developing very fast, and there isn't anything we can't do."

So far, most of China's big ski resorts are clustered in the country's impoverished northeast. While some American ski-resort towns boast film festivals and fashionable clothing boutiques, the village houses near Lotus Mountain are made of blocks of mud mixed with straw, and the only hotel accommodation is in flimsy, prefab lodges. Donkeys porting bundles of firewood for sale roam the village. Given the rustic environment, Lotus Mountain markets itself as an ecotourism destination, but the Air Supply tunes blasting from loudspeakers placed at regular intervals along the slopes shatter the wintry calm of the setting—as do the parents who allow their children to color the snow yellow instead of making use of a nearby bathroom. "Skiing is a little more basic in China, because there are some visitors who have never even seen snow before," admits Ma Zhe, a ski instructor who only started skiing three years ago. "We still have a lot to learn, but we'll catch up with other countries soon."

Nearer to Beijing, the resorts are fancier, offering everything from Swiss-style chalets to trails in the shadow of the Great Wall. But few of the runs are long enough to take more than a minute to complete. Local topography is hilly rather than mountainous and poses little challenge to ardent ski demons. Many resorts also depend on artificial snow, which, in addition to providing less-than-ideal schussing conditions, requires thousands of tons of water in a region already suffering from drought. With Chinese skiers clamoring for tougher runs and posher digs, Western ski-resort companies are scouting out the market—just as foreign golf-course firms did a few years earlier. This week, Shanghai will host the first-ever Asia Pacific Snow Conference, aimed at educating Chinese on everything from managing ski resorts to choosing the best snowboard wax. Canadian ski-resort developer Intrawest Corp., which runs Whistler Blackcomb, says it may start work on up to five new resorts in China in the next six months. Meanwhile, Italian firm Tecnica, the world's largest ski-boot manufacturer, arrived in China last fall; the company has already sold 1,300 sets of boots and bindings to a resort near Beijing and is working on contracts to sell 1,000 more. "The European and U.S. markets are not growing that fast, so we're really excited about the potential in China," says Catherine Cheng, marketing manager for Tecnica's Beijing-based China office. For now, the nation's novice skiers prefer to rent boots. But later, says Cheng, "they will buy their own, and we want to be there when they start doing that."

Ski boots may be an easy sell compared with convincing Chinese to vacation at high-end domestic ski resorts. China's northeast may have plenty of snow, but with average temperatures in the -20°C range, this is hardly balmy country. Chinese tourists with enough cash to dedicate to a luxury sport may prefer to go abroad. "South Korea is only two hours away and has great ski resorts," says Wang Hongbin, publisher of China's first ski magazine, Speed Ski. "People like to boast that they have vacationed overseas, not in some poor village in China's northeast."

For the moment, though, even a place like Shanghai, hardly known for glacial temperatures, is cashing in on China's ski boom. The city is home to Asia's largest indoor ski dome, Yinqixing (Seven Silver Stars). With a slope that's just 380 m long, the $36 million facility isn't designed for serious ski bums. The steepest section of the hill is only 17 degrees, the snow feels more like Sno-Cone crystals than real powder and there are no lifts—just an escalator that takes skiers partway up the slope. Still, a Yinqixing spokesman says the facility has recorded 500,000 visits since opening in 2002. One such customer is Shanghai native Gao Rujin, who recently brought her 6-year-old son to enjoy the indoor winter wonderland. "When I was a child, I never had opportunities like this," she says as she straps on the boy's rented skis. "I want to cultivate a spirit of adventure in my son by exposing him to new things." In today's China, upward mobility sometimes entails going straight downhill.

• Hannah Beech | Changchun
• China, where keeping warm was once the only winter sport, is discovering the snob appeal of skiing