Wilson “Snowflake” Bentley knew that snow was important — so important that he made a life’s work out of photographing one flake at a time. “Under the microscope,” Bentley wrote, “I found that snowflakes were miracles of beauty.” Bentley isn’t the only one whose occupation centered on snow; nor was he the only one for whom the white stuff was worth more than gold.

Last fall, as I put my lawn mower away and took my skis out, attached the plow to my old truck, and put the final logs onto my woodpile, I found myself reflecting on Vermont’s seasons. Each one has a personality of its own, but winter, in my opinion, defines the state and those who live here more than the others. Winter requires the most preparation and determination. It is simultaneously the most loved and despised season. And, of all the seasons, winter forces us — even those who love it most — to endure the most hardship.

Photo courtesy of Stowe Mountain Resort

As Bentley knew, winter’s most poignant characteristic is the white blanket of snow with which it covers our hills, pastures, and homes. What exactly, I wondered, does snow mean to Vermont as a state? What, I asked myself, is the value of snow?

The Snowmobiling Yardstick

To place a value on anything, you need some sort of yardstick. So I start with numbers of people and numbers of dollars. Snow certainly brings both to Vermont in the winter. “Our association,” says Jim Hill, president of VAST, the Vermont Association of Snow Travelers, “is made up of 140 clubs statewide. We have 25,000 residents who are members.” Using U.S. Census data, then, 4 percent of Vermont’s population are snowmobilers associated with VAST.

The value of snow, of course, isn’t just about the numbers. “I like the camaraderie,” says Hill, “And that it’s a way to spend time with friends and family. And it’s a way to see scenery that you’ll never see any other way.” Clearly, Hill and his fellow VAST members live for winter in a way that snowbirds, southerners, and the warm-blooded could never understand. But what about the 11,000 out-of-state VAST members?

“Snow makes a difference,” says Hill. During a good snow year, visitors come to Vermont to participate in any number of outdoor pursuits, including snowmobiling. “They buy gas,” says Hill. “They pick up food at convenience stores, and they stay at hotels and inns.” Figure in gas, the sleds themselves, trailers, trucks to pull them, plus everything Hill mentions, and you arrive at the $500 million in revenues that a VAST-commissioned economic impact study reported as coming from snowmobiling in Vermont. Whether this entire amount remains in the state is debatable, but snowmobiling is certainly a major part of Vermont’s culture and economy.

More Numbers

Another major component of both the state’s culture and economy is skiing. And ski areas obsess over numbers: skier visits, snowfalls in inches, and, of course, dollars and cents. If anyone, therefore, can help place a value on snow, it’s Michael Colbourn, vice president of marketing at Stowe Mountain Resort. “We do a monstrous amount of market research,” says Colbourn. “Any business decisions based on pure emotion may be relevant. But what we try to do is measure the types of customers we have, what they want, and what their share of wallet is.”

To demonstrate snow’s value to the ski business, Colbourn looks no further than snowfall and skier visits. According to Vermont Ski Area Association statistics, Vermont ski areas averaged 245 inches of snowfall in 2007-2008. That year, the state registered 4.3 million skier visits. In 2008 - 2009, by contrast, the average snowfall fell to 231 inches and, with it, just 4 million skier visits. For each inch of snow, over 21,000 more people came to Vermont to ski. If it snows, says Colbourn, they come.

It is not, unfortunately, quite so simple. “It matters,” says Colbourn, “where it snows.” Take one Sunday this past October. The New England Patriots played a nationally televised football game, during which it snowed cats and dogs at their home field in Foxborough, Massachusetts. “It didn’t snow at all here,” says Colbourn, “but our phones rang off the hook for the next week.”

This, of course, is a good thing for Stowe and for Vermont. As an economic engine in Lamoille County, Stowe provides 1,500 jobs. It brings thousands of people to the region, who support local businesses. There can be no arguing that snow — and the various industries it supports — has a profound effect on Vermont’s economy.

Some Things Can’t Be Measured

Hill and Colbourn agree on one thing: The more snow, the better off their respective industries are. But can economic impact studies and market research tell the entire story of what snow means to Vermont? “Our business,” says Colbourn, “is about 60 percent to 40 percent winter to summer.”

According to Colbourn, the two seasons attract completely different people.

“Skiing and other winter pursuits,” he says, “are lifestyles.” Anyone, according to Colbourn, with a sense of adventure can enjoy Stowe’s alpine slide in the summer. Winter pursuits require unique skill sets. “If you don’t love winter,” Colbourn says, “then you really don’t want to be here.”

There are other immeasurable effects of snow. Take VSAA’s fifth- grade passport program or its Learn to Ski program, which provide free skiing to Vermont residents. Or the many charities that snowmobile clubs around the state support. Jim Hill’s home snowmobile club, the Williston Hill Hawks, for example, donates $350 annually to buy presents and dinner for a Williston family in need at the holidays. “Our impact,” says Hill, “goes beyond what any study could show.”

Love it or not, shoveling your driveway after a nor’easter is hard work. And it isn’t easy to get out the front door and start the car on a sub-zero morning. Still, Vermonters feel a certain sense of pride when they switch on their TVs and hear a meteorologist reporting one of our towns as the nation’s cold spot. Or when the weatherman/woman says that, once again, we were buried by another blizzard. Is there something wrong with a population that takes pride in the fact that life is harder where we live? Could be. On the other hand, maybe living with the cold and the snow defines us in some ways.

Our state’s identity and many of our traditions are closely tied to snow. Think of Bentley’s images of single snowflakes. Think of the hundreds of calendars and postcards depicting winter scenes in Vermont, the legacy of sugar on snow every February and March, and the families who come north to our state year after year to sled and ski. And think, too, of the snowplow drivers who clear our roads and driveways, and emergency volunteers and workers who treat winter-related injuries and pull cars from snow-banks. Even in the dead of summer, Vermonters have one eye — although often subconsciously — on the coming winter. Can we place a value on snow? In terms of inches, jobs, and its effect on our economy, snow is gold. Just as important, winter, the cold, and the snow make this state and its people what and who we are.

Mark Aiken is a freelance writer from Richmond, Vermont. A recreational hockey player and a professional ski instructor, he says winter is his favorite season.