In the early hours of August 11, 2026, fire crossed the ridge into Montana's most stubbornly independent ski hill. Two-thirds of the runs are gone and the only chairlift is damaged. The lodge is still standing — and so is the chance to bring this mountain back stronger than it has ever been.
Maverick Mountain sits at 1353 Ski Hill Road in Polaris, Montana — about 40 road miles from Dillon, off the Pioneer Mountain Scenic Byway, tucked into the Beaverhead-Deerlodge National Forest on the edge of the West Pioneers Wilderness Study Area.
It has operated as a community ski area since 1946, making it one of the oldest in Montana. One chairlift. Twenty-four runs. Day tickets in the $35–$45 range, which is roughly what a sandwich costs at the resorts three hours north. Open Thursday through Sunday, December to April — closed most holidays, because the owners spend those with their families. Its own website describes it, without irony, as "the soul of skiing — pure skiing, the way skiing used to be."
Erik and Kristi Borge bought Maverick in 2015 from longtime owner Randy Shilling, and picked up neighboring Elkhorn Hot Springs two years later. They've run it as exactly what it is: a working-class hill where ranch families and ski bums share a lift line, and where the operating margin has never had much room in it.
"Maverick Mountain is the soul of Montana. It's a cross section between ranchers and ski life."
JC Knaub — speaking for his daughter and son-in-law, Maverick's owners
The Sand Creek Fire started on August 1, 2026, roughly seven and a half miles southeast of Wisdom. For a week it was smoke on the horizon and not much else. Then the weather turned.
Sand Creek Fire ignites in the Pioneer Mountains. For a week it stays small and slow — an annoyance, not a threat.
Extreme fire behavior in a hot, dry, unstable atmosphere. Rapid spread through pine and fir. The Beaverhead County Sheriff skips the "ready" stage entirely and puts residents straight to "set." Within hours it's GO — mandatory evacuation for Maverick Mountain, Elkhorn Hot Springs, Shale Creek, Clark Creek and the north end of the Grasshopper Valley.
Air tankers make at least two dozen retardant drops, painting the ski lodge and hot springs pink. A Forest Service hotshot crew scrapes vegetation to mineral soil around the guest cabins. Dozers cut line along the ski runs. Snowcats are dragged to the middle of the parking lot, away from burnable timber. Parts of two salvaged chairlifts are hauled out by gooseneck trailer to neighbors' ranch fields.
The fire reaches the ski area overnight and crests the mountain Tuesday morning. An estimated two-thirds of Maverick's runs burn, and the mountain's only chairlift is damaged. Accounts of how badly still vary — the owners reported damage to the lift with details unknown; the county sheriff reported the lift and the ski patrol shack were lost. The full picture won't be clear until crews can safely walk the hill.
The lodge survives. So does Elkhorn Hot Springs, with minimal damage. Locals are calling it a miracle, and they're not being dramatic — crews ran hose lays and sprinkler systems between the flames and the buildings, and it held. In the valley below, volunteers with the Mile High Back Country Horsemen moved hundreds of cow-calf pairs out ahead of the flames, though ranching neighbors still have cattle unaccounted for in the burn zone.
The Sand Creek Fire is listed at roughly 27,700 acres and 0% contained. Officials note that infrared flights have been grounded for several nights, so the real number is likely larger. Crews are holding line on Maverick and beginning mop-up. Evacuations and closures remain in place.
"If I have anything left, I'll be coming back to a mess. I'm not complaining. Right now it's about taking care of our community, taking care of our people. Then it's a matter of putting the pieces back together."
Erik Borge — co-owner, Maverick Mountain Ski Area
In 2024, Maverick pulled off something small hills almost never manage. Aspen Skiing Company sold them the retired Gent's Ridge quad — a 122-chair fixed-grip lift that Aspen skiers had nicknamed "the Couch." They also acquired parts from Jackson Hole's old Sublette lift. The plan was to combine the two into one new lift and finally give a 1946 ski area modern uphill capacity.
Erik Borge described the purchase at the time as a chance to "achieve the otherwise unobtainable for a small, family-run hill."
Those components were still on the ground when the fire came. Crews trailered what they could out to neighboring ranch fields. That upgrade was already coming. The fire just changed the timeline — and raised the stakes.
Here's the part that matters: a hill like Maverick has no corporate parent, no pass conglomerate, no balance sheet deep enough to absorb a season of lost revenue plus a lift rebuild plus reforestation. Independent ski areas don't usually die dramatically. They die quietly, in the second year, when the money runs out before the snow comes back. Maverick is the second U.S. ski area struck by wildfire in 2026, after Utah's Eagle Point was overrun by the Cottonwood Fire in late June.
But a rebuild is also a rare thing: a chance to start from the ground and do it right. Nobody wanted this. Since it happened anyway, the goal isn't to put Maverick back exactly as it was. It's to bring it back better.
Maverick has spent eighty years being the place where Montana kids learn to ski and ranch families spend their Saturdays. The rebuild is a chance to make it far better at exactly that.
Put the salvaged Aspen and Jackson Hole components to work and give the mountain real uphill capacity for the first time in its history — plus the base-area infrastructure a modern lift needs behind it.
Expanded youth instruction, school and race programs, and a real pipeline for local kids. Skiing keeps pricing families out. A hill like Maverick is one of the last places that doesn't have to.
Maverick's whole identity is a lift ticket a ranch family can actually pay for. Rebuilding better means protecting that — not using new infrastructure as a reason to price it out of reach.
Reforestation, fire-resilient terrain management, and defensible base-area design. This fire won't be the last one. The rebuild should assume that.
None of the above happens on goodwill. It takes lift work, timber crews, heavy equipment, engineering and a lot of money that a 24-run family operation does not have sitting around. Whatever size you're able to give, there's a door for it.
Every dollar goes toward getting Maverick's lift turning and its runs skiable again. Give what you can — a lot of small gifts is exactly how a hill like this survives.
A season pass at a big mountain runs north of a thousand dollars. A day at Maverick runs forty. Give the difference and you've done something real.
Donate to the campaign →If you're considering a major gift, a corporate contribution, or you can offer equipment, materials, labor or professional expertise, let's talk directly. Wire transfer is available for larger donations.
You'll reach a real person with a direct connection to the mountain and its owners, who can tell you exactly where your support lands.
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