The Kitchen Dwellers Talk Their Love for Skiing After Jamming at 6,000 Feet

Everyone in the audience was hushed, waiting for the ride to begin. It was my first time actually riding the tram, which is to say for every hour I had spent studying the tram face I had experienced maybe one second actually using the huge piece of machinery that transports skiers from the base of the mountain to the top of Silverado.

The Kitchen Dwellers wasted no time moving into their set, and the acoustics of the cable car were surprisingly not as echoey as one might expect. In fact, the car had a deep, rich sound that lent itself well to the ever-expanding view as the ride ascended up the mountain.

By that point in the season, the terrain was covered in a thick coating of white snow, and the sun was out, making it a perfect bluebird day. Surprisingly, the resort wasn’t crowded, but the parking lot below most certainly was.

Dogs, off their leashes, wandered between vans in the parking lot. The pavement was littered with beer cans and half-smoked joints. The light wind whisked any musky smells away from the direction of the tram face.

The festival was already underway, and Palisades Tahoe had been transformed from a relatively quiet, reserved resort into a full-on hippie, van-lifer bonanza. What used to be one or two campervans sprinkled within a sea of trucks and four-wheel-drive cars was now four full rows of giant RVs, campervans, converted minivans, and everything in between.

This was no surprise. In fact, it was exactly the crowd you would expect from WinterWonderGrass, a sustainability and family focused music festival with lineups from some of the greatest bluegrass, jamgrass, americana, and roots music bands around. The last stop was at Steamboat in Colorado, and I had to imagine some of the vans made the roadtrip from Colorado to California. It all made sense.

But the mountain, somehow, was sparse. Perhaps everyone was at the base, drinking and celebrating and soaking in the warm California sunshine. I wondered if the members of the band in the tram—Shawn Swain, Torrin Daniels, Joe Funk, and Max Davies—were studying the terrain as we went up, wishing they brought skis. They did not, apparently, but they did ski at the Steamboat WinterWonderGrass in Colorado.

The Kitchen Dwellers told me that every January they do a mountain town tour, so they ski a handful of days in January, on the road. But, more than anything, they are focused on performing. Unbeknownst to me, bands are oftentimes responsible for their own touring schedules. "There are a lot of misconceptions. People think that we have travel agents, but we have to plan it. It's incredibly hands-on,” Max said.

They mostly ski resorts, but their local place, Bridger Bowl, has good backcountry access, so they often head out of bounds. Two members of the band, Max and Joe, relayed that their main passions are actually skiing.

During the interview, I asked if they got to ski more than the average person, being on tour so much. Sadly, the answer was no. “I'd say to someone who's committed to skiing... Way less. If we had normal jobs, I would probably ski way more. Just take a half morning off, go get some turns and come back to work kind of thing,” Max said.

Joe added, “I moved to North Carolina two years ago, and so there's no skiing out there. So our winter ski tour, that's been like a highway for me because I actually needed to go get out.”

But Joe also told me he was Moment Ski Company’s first official customer. “In high school I was actually the first Moment customer. I bought the first two pairs of Moment skis.”

“I just found them online. They were the Rubies and Rubies Classic. They're the white big white ones with a helicopter on the back. And then I bought another pair for my friend. Moment was like, ‘do you want to spread the word?’ I was in Alaska, and they were just like, ‘do you want to spread the word in Alaska?’ and give us feedback. I was like, ‘yeah, sure.’ We developed a relationship and I started selling skis, so then I'd come down here and we would go test skis at Mount Rose.”

But that’s not to say The Kitchen Dwellers don’t love music, or WinterWonderGrass. In fact, the festival is incredibly meaningful to the group. When asked why they love WinterWonderGrass so much, they said, “it really starts at the top. Scotty Staton (a multi-media artist and producer who has been involved in the New York music, art and animation scene since the 1970’s) puts on an incredible festival and attracts incredible people. He just brings such a cool vibe to a festival and he just does everything so well and we love him so much. Anything he does we would always love to do.”

“The bands here are always our friends and it's a great community that has always been involved with WinterWonderGrass. This festival's set up really well.” In particular, they mentioned being excited to play with The String Dusters, Paul Coffin, Sierra Hall, and Shadow Grass.

Max and Joe also noted that the overall vibe of the festival is relatable to them as musicians and outdoorsmen.

Joe grew up in Juneau, on the coast of Alaska, and the band stays true to these remote roots, seeking peace and quiet as far as Maine for one of their albums. He said they rented a cabin in far northeast Maine, almost Canada, for four days to “do some writing. We had some days off on tour, so we thought, ‘we'll go a hole up in the cabin.’ I went down to the dock to get lobster, and everyone's wearing Grundéns. I felt like I just walked out to the docks in Juneau.” They both agreed that it came as no surprise that people flocked to see them from Maine to Alaska, from Colorado to California, and everywhere in between.

“WonderGrass attracts a certain type of person, an adventurous person. Music festivals in general attract a more adventurous type of person. But here you have to add the element of people who like to do outdoorsy things and are cool standing outside in the cold all night. The Steamboat one gets cold cold. Like, it can be zero degrees. Doesn't faze people. They're stoked to be there, and they ski all day and then party all night.”

As the tram made its descent back to the festival grounds, this was exactly what was on everyone’s minds. The antics of the night before were fresh, and the afternoon sunlight poured onto our skin, awakening us to another evening of folk music, hoppy beers, and chilled dancing. The festival would be over by 10 p.m, though. No one wanted to miss the following morning of skiing.