Elevation, snow and clear air stack, and none of them feel like sun exposure at the time.
People associate sun damage with beaches and summer. Along the Wasatch Front the exposure is more constant, less obviously hot, and considerably easier to underestimate. The geography is doing something to you on an ordinary Tuesday in February.
Ultraviolet intensity increases as you go up, because there is less atmosphere above you filtering it. The valley floor here is already high by the standards of most places people live, and everything up a canyon is higher still. A day at a trailhead or on a ski lift is not comparable to the same hours at sea level.
Reflective surfaces send light upward, which means winter exposure reaches places you would not otherwise think about — under the chin, under the nose, around the eyes. Cold weather removes the sensory cue that usually reminds people about sun, so a bright winter day is one of the easiest days to get wrong.
Cloud cover is not a reliable shield in any case, but along the Wasatch Front there is often less of it to begin with. The result is that exposure is a steady background condition rather than an occasional event, and the sensible response is a daily habit rather than an occasional precaution.
Wear broad-spectrum sunscreen daily, choose one you will not resent putting on, and reapply when you are out for real stretches. Use shade, hats, sleeves and sunglasses, which require no memory of when you last applied anything. Do not skip the winter, do not skip the overcast day, and do not treat driving as indoors.
Tell us what you have noticed. We will tell you which tier it belongs to, what to ask when you get there, and when the honest answer is that nothing needs doing.
Ask Before You BookA sentence or two is plenty. We will follow up with which tier it belongs to and what to ask when you get there.