When the Flame Returns: Utah’s Long Game Toward a Historic 2034 Winter Olympics

“I think it’s super cool,” Feddersen said of the Winter Games returning to Utah. “They could pull the Olympics off this winter if they had to. You just can’t say that about most Olympic cities.”

A Rare Olympic Do-Over Done Right

Unlike host cities where venues have fallen into disrepair, Utah’s Olympic infrastructure remains in daily use. The ski jumps at Utah Olympic Park still send aerialists skyward. The Oval continues to produce elite speed skaters. Youth programs, national teams and recreational athletes share the same facilities that crowned champions in 2002.

Feddersen, who competed in freestyle aerials and now coaches, performs and mentors athletes in Park City, sees the difference firsthand.

“Salt Lake is kind of the mecca for winter athletes to go train,” he said. “By the time we get to 2034, we’re going to have a kick-ass team because we have these venues that kids are learning on.”

The 2034 Games will mark the first time the Winter Olympics return to Salt Lake City since 2002, and one of the few times a host city has been tapped again largely because it maintained its Olympic legacy instead of abandoning it.

Building a Pipeline to the Podium

Feddersen watched the most recent Winter Games with particular attention to aerials, his discipline. He called the women’s competition “one of the best I’ve ever seen” and praised the U.S. team’s gold medal performance in the team aerials event.

But beyond medals, he sees a deeper shift in the sport.

“When we were competing, we were kind of experimenting,” he said. “Now they know the fundamentals from the beginning. The techniques are so much better.”

That evolution, he said, is fueled by access. Young athletes in Utah can grow up training on Olympic-caliber facilities, coached by former Olympians who have transitioned into judging, coaching and mentoring roles.

“There’s so much you can do after you retire from competition,” Feddersen said. “Coaching, judging, instilling the right values in kids. That’s important.”

With federal, state and private funding expected to flow in ahead of 2034 to upgrade venues, he anticipates a stronger grassroots pipeline, one that could push the United States closer to perennial medal leader Norway.

“Maybe by the time we get to ’34, we could take that medal count and be on top,” he said.

A Community That Knows How to Host

Feddersen remembers the 2002 Games as a defining moment, staged just months after the Sept. 11 attacks. Volunteers, many of whom still ski in their color-coded Olympic jackets, helped deliver an event widely praised for its organization and spirit.

“I still see people in those jackets,” he said. “They’re hoping they get another one in 2034.”

That civic pride now intersects with rapid growth across the Wasatch Front. Resorts including Deer Valley Resort have expanded terrain and infrastructure in recent years, unveiling new lifts, additional acreage and the East Village base area to accommodate increasing visitation. 

Through its Expanded Excellence initiative, Deer Valley has doubled its skiable terrain—an ambitious transformation that underscores the scale of investment and momentum building ahead of 2034.

For Feddersen, who participates in Deer Valley’s “Ski With a Champion” program, the growth is both logistical and symbolic. On a half-day tour, he guides guests through hidden glades and wind-protected runs, sharing Olympic stories while helping them navigate terrain they might never find alone.

“They don’t have to think about crowds or the best lift,” he said. “They just follow me.”

By 2034, that expanded terrain and modernized base infrastructure could play a critical role in dispersing visitors and showcasing Utah’s ability to balance elite competition with world-class recreation.

More Than Medals

Utah’s appeal extends beyond podium finishes. Feddersen believes the world will see a state that is more diverse, dynamic and outdoors-driven than stereotypes suggest.

“There are beautiful mountains, incredible winter and summer sports and great people,” he said. “That’s what made 2002 great.”

He expects 2034 to leave its own imprint, not only in upgraded venues and tourism revenue, but in a generation of athletes who grew up under the shadow of ski jumps and speed-skating ovals.

“There are families moving here just so their kids have access to these facilities,” he said. “That’s going to be the story.”

The Flame Never Went Out

As global attention builds toward 2034, Utah’s Olympic narrative feels less like a comeback and more like a continuation. The lifts never stopped spinning. The ice never melted. The jumps never went quiet.

When the Games return, they will arrive in a place that has spent three decades preparing, not for two weeks of spectacle, but for a culture of winter sport that never left.

If Feddersen is right, the lasting image of 2034 won’t be empty stadiums or faded banners. It will be kids who learned to fly on Olympic hills, chasing medals on home snow, and a community once again proving that in Utah, the Olympic flame is less an event than a way of life.