Ernie Blake, born Ernst Hermann Bloch in Frankfurt, came over from Europe, fought in the Second World War, then went looking for a mountain that could match the Alps. He found Kachina Peak in 1955 and built Taos Ski Valley around his own uncompromising standards. The little hut he put up on the Highline ridge still stands. So does his ethos. Al's Run is the first thing you see from the base, a vertical wall of moguls under the lift, and it sets the tone. Stauffenberg, Castor, Pollux, the West Basin chutes, these are runs that require commitment. The new Kachina Peak lift opens 12.481-foot terrain that was once a 45-minute hike. The base village still trades in adobe walls, pine ceilings and warm light, and the resort runs as a certified B Corporation. Drop down the canyon and the town of Taos itself is 30 kilometres away, where the thousand-year-old Taos Pueblo, a UNESCO site, continues its own continuous story. The white wine flag flies at the summit on bluebird days, the only American resort to do so. It is a serious mountain in a surprising place.