Winter 1966

Long before all the hotels, condos, valet parking, expensive restaurants or even a nearby residence except for the old farm house, this valley had all the promise of the world’s next big resort.  Every weekend a team of men would drive up this lonely valley to the farm house, unload their gear, lunches and “after work” beverages.  Their job was to take snow depth readings, planning out future trails, chairlift paths and even the “on hill” food and beverage establishments.  They made note of all the wildlife, streams and existing roads.

As a very young boy I was often invited to join the crew.  The average day included riding in the old Sno-Cat, standing on the grooming trailer as the “cat” dove up and down the roads and even skiing on trails and through the trees where no one had ever dared go before.  The day always ended the same, drinks in the cabin, adult jokes and talk of the future.

My parents always made sure my supplies for the day included a gallon jug of wine as an offering to the “gods” of the mountain.  I was always a big hit at the end of the day when I produced the offering.  It was not like they did not know it was there; but, they always reacted with a bit of feigned enthusiasm as the bottle came out.   This went on all winter long in the year 1966.  I must have repeated this great adventure a dozen times; although, they all seem to have melded into one great memory.

These men went on to greatness in the valley and beyond.  Some became mountain managers, ski patrolmen, company management, inventors and much more; but, they never lost their spirit of the mountain and friendship.

Oh, the valley and mountain I am speaking of is none other than Brush Creek and Snowmass Mountain, Colorado.  The farm house still stands, near the bottom of the valley where the gas station and Alpine Bank are now located.  Once home to cattle and sheep ranchers, time may have passed it by, but it stands proud.