Winter 1974

With Snowmass Mountain reaching capacity and new areas of that mountain opening up each year, it was time to look for the next mountain to tame.  Further west of the Snowmass Ski Area and at about the same altitude was Haystack Mountain.  From the top of Haystack Mountain you could clearly see the slopes of the Snowmass Ski Area.

The year was 1974 and Haystack was still only a consideration for a new resort; but before all that, information had to be collected.  What was the snow depth throughout an average winter?  What temperatures could be expected? And wind?  A group of Aspen Skiing Corporation employees were given the task to going up Haystack every day to collect this vital data.  Those men were long time locals and employees of the Company.  The team included Larry Beidleman, Jerry Bland, Tom Marshall and my father, Neil Beck.  This process was much the same as what was used a decade earlier for the development of Snowmass Ski Area but in the end, the results were not the same.

My adventure took place on March 21, 1974 when my father asked me if I wanted to spend my 14^th birthday with him up on the mountain.  This was a school day for me so the thought of playing hooky with my parents’ permission was reason enough.

With a couple of thermoses full of tea, packed lunches including may favorite American cheese and Miracle Whip sandwiched, on white bread (of course) and our dog in tow, we were off to Haystack.  The Sno-Cat was parked at the old schoolhouse on upper Capital Creek Road.  To get to Haystack required a drive down Highway 82 to the Watson Divide road and over the ridge and into Snowmass creek.  From there we drove southwest on Capital Creek Road past the Monastery to the Old School House to get the “cat” and then up Nicholson Creek Road until it came to an end.

We were an hour into this adventure and we were not even to the Sno-Cat, had I made a bad decision?  Soon my doubts were gone, as we headed up the trail in the “Cat” with Archie, our Sheppard running behind.  From the end of the road we drove the “cat” up the trail to the very top of Hunter Pass, named after Pierre Hunter.

It was a long ride up to the top with stops along the way to take some readings and give the dog a rest.  I do not remember what my dad and I talked about on the way but I do remember this day as being one the greatest birthdays of my young life.  With my siblings consigned to another day at school and “me and my dad” spending the day together, it could not get better than this.

We reached the top after about 2 hours in the “cat”, just in time for lunch and some more readings.  The dog had made the trip up but I knew he would be riding down off the mountain.  This time it was my turn to get out of the “cat.”  I skied down to the bottom from the very top stopping along the way for my dad to catch up, as dumb as it sounds; I did not want to get too far ahead so he would not get lost.  By the time I reached the bottom I had very little energy left but I had done it, I skied Haystack Mountain.  I would like to think I was the only person to ever ski down Haystack Mountain and maybe I am, but not likely.

For whatever reason, the Skiing Corporation never developed Haystack Mountain into another area.  For me this adventure was truly unique, to be a part of two ski area research projects, all by the age of 14 and there was another one in my future about 4 years later, but that is a separate adventure.