Continuing the Ski Cartography Legacy with Rad Smith

By Hannah Truby

Navigation tools. Works of art. Daydream fodder. Maps are a rare breed of function and beauty. For ski mapmaker Rad Smith, the goal goes beyond utility. Each map is an invitation: an invitation to explore, to connect with nature, and, perhaps most importantly, to play like a kid again.

Before he was a mapmaker or an artist, Smith was a skier. Whether that quality makes his maps as good as they are is impossible to say, but it wouldn’t be a stretch to think so—each piece is clearly infused with a quiet, incurable love for the mountains, the unmistakable mark of a skier. 

A couple of weeks ago, we explored the work of Gareth Fuller, whose maps reconstruct city landscapes and challenge geopolitical narratives. While Fuller’s process is uniquely pedestrian—built on walking, observing, and gathering stories—Bozeman-based Rad Smith takes a more technical approach to his mapmaking. With a background in illustration and fine arts, Smith carries on the time-honored ritual of mountain cartography. The end products are large, hand-painted ski maps that function not just as wayfinding tools but also as windows into the spirit of ski resorts.

Hannah: What initially inspired your fascination with landscapes and geography?

Rad: I think it goes back to my childhood when I was really into information graphics and weather maps. Those painted terrain maps that show physical relief, those classic National Geographic-type maps. I was always attracted to the physical nature of the Earth's surface and seeing it from a map or aerial point of view. Over time, as I started making maps professionally, I got deeper into elevation terrain and shaded relief. I just fell in love with all the visual elements of physical maps.

Did you get an education in mapmaking?

No—I've kind of gone about it a very different way, actually. I studied fine arts in school. I focused on painting, illustration, so my background was more artistic than technical. And then I worked in environmental consulting where I made maps, like story maps and information graphics. Cartography is a very technical profession and there's a lot of data analysis that's done in mapmaking. And as fascinating as that is, it's just not something I was really in love with. I was always in love with the end product, you know, the visual kind of aspect of maps. 

Is it a challenge for you to balance the aesthetic elements with the technical in your maps?

It is a challenge. My predecessor, James Niehues, is an artist first and mapmaker second—I see myself the other way around: a mapmaker first, artist second. But, ski maps especially demand that balance because they often combine multiple perspectives into one, which requires creative liberties. Before I start painting, I try to keep in mind that the ultimate goal of the map is to be used as a wayfinding tool. But when I'm painting, I get kind of caught up in the art side of it, and sometimes I do struggle to let go of certain accuracies.

How often are ski maps updated? Are you consistently working on new projects?

That's a good question. I mean, luckily, there's enough ski areas to keep me busy right now. But some ski areas go decades without changing their map, and then suddenly they'll need a couple of maps within a couple of years. But there’s been a lot of upgrades and changes being made to ski areas in the last few years, especially since COVID. A lot of ski areas are now offering summer programs now too, so I'm seeing a number of areas that are requesting a summer map for the first time.

How long does it take to complete a single map?

If I focused solely on a single project, it would take about six to eight weeks. But I usually juggle multiple projects, so it often stretches to two or three months. On average, I'd say a map takes 100 to 150 hours, depending on the size and detail involved.

You mentioned James Niehues. He's THE guy in the ski mapmaking world, and I understand he's passing the torch to you once he retires. How did that partnership come about?

I’ve admired James’ work for a long time, since the early 1990s, and about seven or eight years ago, I saw some interviews where he mentioned retirement, and I wondered if anyone would continue his legacy.

At the time, I was creating digital maps for ski areas, so I reached out to him. I shared some of my paintings and showed him that I had some former skills I could bring to the table. And long story short, we started a friendship and a kind of mentorship relationship from there. He gave me a lot of great suggestions, and shared a lot of specific tips and tricks that he's learned over the years. But more importantly, gave me encouragement to just keep painting. | Photo courtesy of James Niehues

Are all of your maps are done by hand?

They are. But when I first reached out to James, I was doing a lot of digitally illustrated maps, and he was quick to say that he had no interest, and really couldn't help me with any digital work. I had to turn around and clarify that I was tired of looking at the computer and creating digital maps, and I was looking for a way to get back into traditional work and painting.

Beautiful—I’m looking at them now while we talk! Who are some of your artistic inspirations?

Boy, there's not much I don't admire, to be honest with you. The more I paint, the more I appreciate other painters or other artists of any sort. But I’d say some of the early American landscape painters, tonalists like Albert Bierstadt. Some of the painters that came through Yellowstone back in the early 1800s, like Thomas Moran. I was really into photography in elementary school, so I loved Ansel Adams, too. Andrew Wyeth, Edward Hopper. I could go on and on.

What for you are the biggest challenges when trying to capture the essence of a ski resort?

Honestly, just trying to fit it all in. Especially for a big ski area, trying to get it all in a single visual plane is challenging.

I just finished Deer Valley last fall and had to take a much higher perspective, which is always a little awkward. I'd rather see a horizon line, you know, set against the sky to give some context to elevation. And, of course, there’s the want to paint every little detail. But you can’t paint every tree, every rock—some of those iconic features that make a certain ski area unique to itself. You kind of have to let some of that go.

What kind of role do maps play in preserving the culture and spirit of ski resorts?

A very important one! I may be a little biased. But the trail map is one of the first things people look at when planning to visit a ski area, it makes an impression. So it's an important marketing tool in that sense. But more than that, I also want to create something that's kind of an instruction manual on how to have fun. When people look at it, I want them to want to go explore something, to get outside and feel like a kid again. That's why we all go to the outdoors, I think.

See out more of Rad's work at www.radsmithart.com