Month: July 2009

Pools, Pools and Moore Pools

Circa 1960 – Present

Every summer in Aspen as a child included a good bit of swimming.  With few exceptions, back then private homes did not include pools in their back yards so we all needed a public place for swimming.  For the kids of Aspen we relied on public pools or private pools that offered memberships or summer passes.  Over the years, public swimming was made available in a number of different locations.

In the mid to late 1960’s, while not operating as a hotel, swimming was available for a small cost at the Hotel Jerome pool.  This was a great place to meet up with friends and spend the day.  The use of this pool went on for years and finally came to an end when the hotel was purchased and work began to restore it.  At first the pool was turned into a private club requiring membership and later it was closed all together.  Eventually the pool was torn out to make room for a large addition to the hotel that now occupies the back half of the property.

As changes at the Hotel Jerome were taking place, a local business man, Lenny Thomas, was busy building “The Center.”  It was a combination of retail spaces and a public pool located on the land at Galena Street and Durant Avenue, across from the North of Nell Building and what would be later known as, Ruby Park.  “The Center” included a much larger pool with additional amenities like locker rooms, slides and a wading pool.  “The Center” soon became the place for families and individuals alike to spend their warm summer days.  The pool was closed during the winter months.

Lenny Thomas was involved in a number of local business and projects including “The Center” and The Aspen Motor Speedway.  He was one of the earliest residents of Red Mountain, living in the red brick house just above the entrance to Pitkin Green Road.  “The Center” remained in business for years until it was finally sold off and redeveloped in the late 1970’s.

Aspen’s next pool was courtesy of James E. Moore.  James E. Moore owned a large parcel of land on the outskirts of town as you headed up Maroon Creek Road towards the Maroon Bells.  In the 1970’s the school district purchased a portion of the land for the High School and later on, the addition of the Middle School.  James Moore donated land directly across Maroon Creek Road from the High School to be used for the new pool as well as for other athletic purposes like baseball and football.  The pool was also used for swimming and diving lessons, water safety for the summer sailing classes and even SCUBA classes.

The new pool was built by the city on the donated land and is still in use to this day.  Later, additional facilities were added including the new ice arena.  Had it not been for the generosity of the Moore family there is no telling what the locals would have been able to use during the summers when it came to learning how to swim or dive unless they were willing to join the Aspen Club, east of town. 

Unfortunately, during this same period of time, access to the best swimming and “tubing” spots on the Roaring Fork River were being closed off by the property owners along the banks of the river.  Over the years the Moore’s continued to make available more land for public uses, unfortunately the city did not return the favor when they tried to sell off part of their land for development purposes.

Lincoln Lake Lightning!

Circa 1976

I am not sure who’s idea it was but I know we had talked about this particular trip for weeks that summer.  Lincoln Lake is located near the top of Independence Pass just above the last major switchback.  From the parking lot it is a short, one-mile, nearly vertical hike.

It was a beautiful summer day and by all accounts the perfect day for camping.  Ham Tharp, Robert Thuillier and I loaded up our packs and headed up the pass in my Jeep.  We gave little regard for what we took as we knew the hike was short and besides, we needed all of that stuff.

After setting up camp we set out to explore the lake and the small valley it was tucked into.  We were alone but could hear all the traffic on the highway across the valley.  The lake was formed by a glacier and the rocks around it are as big as houses; so, hiking around it was fun but challenging.

As evening set in we settled down for dinner and some beers we had liberated from my dad’s “Man Fridge” back home.   At the same time the clouds began to darken and the wind started picking up.  Before long we were in the middle of a full-fledged storm complete with lightning.  For us this made our location more dangerous as the valley we were in is largely composed of Iron Ore rocks. 

In no time we sought the refuge of our small tent to get out of the rain.  Outside the tent we could see the lightning and what we think was “St. Elmo’s fire” rolling around in the valley.  At one point during a lull in the storm our tent lit up and expanded like an over-filled balloon.  We took a direct St. Elmo’s Fire (static electricity) hit and lived to tell about it.

The storm lasted most of the night and any living thing in the valley sought refuge where ever they could.  This included the small space between the tent and it’s rain fly.  In the middle of the night I felt an animal laying up against me with only the thin nylon tent walls separating us.  I am not sure what type of critter it was, maybe a large rabbit, fox or even something more dangerous.  All I knew was that I was not about to go find out.

By morning the storm had cleared and the critters were gone.  As we all exited the tent we looked like a bunch of hedgehogs.  The static electricity had energized every hair we had.  After a good laugh and a hearty breakfast we packed up and headed home.

When we got home we learned that we had survived one of the valley’s worst storms in decades.  We had failed to let our parents know where we were going and at one point they almost sent out a search party to find us.  For us this was just another summer adventure.  Camping at 11,000 feet always provides an extra element of excitement.  Today, Lincoln Lake is a popular camping place for locals and visitors alike.  For me, it is one of my favorite places on earth.

Why a Three Year Old Should Not Drive

Summer 1963

The tree had to go and Stan knew just how to remove it without damaging anything in the process, or so he thought.  Stan Belmer was “a jack of all trades” if you were to ask him.  He did have skills, many learned through trial and error and this was one of those “training days.”  The tree stood pretty close to the house as well as a few vehicles parked nearby.  My father offered to move his car but Stan assured him that would not be necessary.  In no time he proceeded to bring the tree down and in the process both the house and my father’s blue VW bus were damaged.

The car was now out of commission and in the shop for repairs for what looked like an extended period of time.  Timbrook Motors in Glenwood Springs provided a loaner car for my mother to use while the VW was being repaired. 

Around the same time my father had moved on to his biggest job of the summer.  Pete Seibert and Earl Wheaton had hired my dad to put in the plumbing lines at the “Lion’s Head” base station.  The two Aspenites were in the process of developing a new ski area east of Glenwood Springs and the center piece of the resort was a new gondola.  During the summer my father worked on the base station as well as some of the tower’s foundations.  Vail was scheduled to open the following November and there was a lot of work to be done.  Each morning my father would get up and make the two hour drive to Vail, work all day and then return home late each evening.

I am not sure why my mother needed to see my dad or maybe it was just a social call.  Whatever the reason, she loaded the four kids and the dog into the car and headed off to Vail to see my dad.  It was late spring and still a bit cold in the mornings, definitely cold enough to need the heater on.  When we got to the job site my mom got out to go see my dad, leaving the engine running in order to keep the heater on.  In those days kids barely wore seatbelts let alone any other sort of restraining devices.

I am the youngest of four kids and we were all pretty active children, too active at times.  I am not sure how long my mom was out of the car before it happened but at some point I found myself in the driver’s seat.  Not knowing anything about cars, I was three after all, I put it in gear.  The car slowly idled forward and hit the first thing in its path, my dad’s Backhoe. 

The damage was significant but the car was still drivable.  After sorting things out, my mom headed back to Glenwood to try and explain this one to the service manager at Timbrook.  I am not sure how the conversation went but in the end we were in another one of their loaner cars.  I think they also put our car repair at the top of the list before anything else could happen.

Bugsy’s Stop Sign Crusade & the Barnard Bumps

Circa – 1950’s

The stories of Dr. Robert “Bugsy” Barnard and his years in Aspen are the making of legend.  He was both revered and reviled, depending upon who you ask.  One thing is certain, his years as an elected official are fraught with controversy and questionable activities.  He ruled the town in much the same manner as did Gene Hackman in “The Quick and the Dead”* but without blatant use of firearms.  As mayor he was able to have laws changed to meet his requirements or those of his friends.  He made enemies of some residents who deserved to be his enemies, and the rest of the “villagers” just went with the flow of things.

This is not to say he did not have friends as he had plenty.  Some were true friends and others just knew it was better to go along with him rather than oppose him.  Either way, he was elected to office on more than one occasion which stood for something.  Whether it was because people liked him or hated his opponents, we will never know for sure.

Sometime in the 1950’s the City Council took it upon itself to do something about the traffic in town.  People were driving faster and faster making the streets unsafe for pedestrians.  I am not sure if Bugsy was on the council at the time or even mayor.  If so they certainly over-ruled him on this rare occasion.  Over a brief period of time the city installed stop signs in nearly every downtown intersection.  Some believe the count may have gone well above 100 new signs.  Bugsy, being a man who enjoyed driving fast where ever he went, was infuriated with this new inconvenience and set out to make things right as he saw fit. 

Bugsy’s “call to arms” was to put out a bounty for every stop sign that people removed.  Teenagers and adults alike took the challenge and in a matter of hours every stop sign in the valley was gone, even the ones that had been there all along or were not even within the city limits.  No one knows for sure what he did with the signs, but they were never seen again.  At great expense to the city, some of the original signs were replaced.

Not to be outdone by Bugsy, the city shot back with their own plan.  Within days all the “culverts” and storm drains that ran under intersections were removed and replaced with “dips” that allowed the water to flow freely and still permit traffic, at slow speeds, to proceed through the intersection.  To add insult to injury, these new dips were commonly referred to as “Barnard Bumps,” further irritating Bugsy in the process. 

Many of these dips were so deep that vehicles were getting damaged.  So, over time the city did replace some of the culverts or made the dips shallower.  Some of the dips remain to this day but their name and reason for being has long been forgotten.  The irony of Bugsy’s crusade is that the stop signs could be ignored but the dips, not so much.

 

*The Quick and the Dead was a movie starring Gene Hackman, Sharon Stone & Russell Crowe.  The plot was based on a Lady avenger who returns to a western town owned by a ruthless gunslinger (Gene Hackman) hosting an elimination tournament.

For another fun “Busgy” story, click here!

Damn those Billboards!

Circa Mid-1950’s

Who’s to say for sure if Edward Abbey got the idea from these guys or not!  The parallels seem all too familiar not to, and since The Monkey Wrench Gang* was published in 1975, nearly 20 years later, it could be possible.  In Abbey’s book one of the main characters was a successful doctor who drove big cars and wanted to protect the environment while doing it harm and making money from it.  His friends were a blend of characters just like the local rebels.  I asked one of the members of our gang, Katie Lee, if it was possible they inspired Abbey, but she could not confirm it although she and Abbey were friends and often partners in crime if only on paper.

It would be unfair to call Aspen’s Eco-Warriors a Monkey Wrench Gang, but had Abbey not used the term first and “if the shoe fits,” well; you know where I am going with this.   The ring leader was none other than Dr. Robert “Bugsy” Barnard along with one of the country’s longest surviving environmentalists, Katie Lee.  In addition to being an environmentalist she is also a folk singer, actress, and author.  A local by the name of “Remo” was also a part of the mischievousness. Long time Aspenite, Dean Billings, was the fourth member of the group.

Who knows if the idea was borne out of a strong desire to save the planet any more than from a drunken conversation among friends.  All that is known is one night without warning every billboard between Aspen and Glenwood Springs was either sawed down or burned to the ground.  Nary had a single sign survived the slaughter.  The gang got away with it, never to be arrested or convicted, but everyone knew who had done it.  Secrets in Aspen were rare in the 1950’s especially when they were never intended to be secrets in the first place.  Katie recently told me her thoughts on the subject, “Buggsy, Dean, Remo were among those of us who felt the same about stupid encroachment on our world of beauty.”

Buggsy has a colorful past from his years in Aspen if not before or after.  His antics gained him friends and enemies alike and often contradicted prior or future acts of rebellion.  He loved cars, driving fast, real-estate, politics, money and other men’s wives.  Often those did not align with his daily activities, but Buggsy was after all focused on whatever he set out to do.  You can draw your own conclusions about the man as I already have, and in my situation I choose to keep them to myself.  Suffice to say, years later Bugsy met an untimely death at the hands of another person.  That crime was never solved but that leaves me room for another story or two, stay tuned.

 

*The Monkey Wrench Gang (ISBN: ISBN 0-397-01084-2) is a novel written by American author Edward Abbey (1927–1989), published in 1975.  The novel describes the use of sabotage to protect the environment from damaging activities in the American Southwest.  The term “monkey wrench” has come to mean, besides sabotage and damage to machines, any violence, activism, law-making, or law-breaking to preserve wilderness, wild spaces and ecosystems.  The characters in the book tend to contradict themselves by their very existence.

For another fun “Busgy” story, click here!

The Meat Locker, No Really it was a Meat Locker!

1946 – 1968

Although the family grocery store had been in business since the mid-1880’s a time came where an additional service was needed by the local community.  World War II had just ended and the men were coming home. Aspen’s population was also on the rise with an influx of families from all over the world including former enemies who were now friends, from Eastern Europe and beyond.  Aspen was growing and with it new businesses was opening every day.

Aspen’s skiing industry was just taking shape.  Germans, Austrians and Swiss expatriates were moving here for the skiing and due to the welcome reception they were getting in a valley that reminded many of them of the homes they had left behind during the war.  Refrigeration technologies were still in the “ice age” if you will and no one knew more about it than Lawrence Elisha.  Lawrence along with Henry Beck and Albert Bishop, the owners of the “Beck & Bishop” grocery store, formed a partnership and opened “The Frozen Food Locker Plant.”

At the time the grocery store occupied about a third of the ground floor of the Wheeler Opera House building along with some storage space in the basement.  The rest of the main floor sat empty and it was a perfect location for The Frozen Food Locker Plant.  Although there was no storefront for this new venture the three partners knew they could easily run the business from the back of the building and through the butcher’s department in the grocery store.

It was a big undertaking to get the business off the ground.  A large compressor with ammonia as the coolant was installed along with a large loading dock.  Over the loading dock a new crane with rails back into the freezer was also installed. The meat locker had a number of rooms: one was for “fast” freezing the meat, another was for cold storage and another was for aging the meat at a slightly warmer temperature.  Even more space was needed for skinning the animals and processing the meats. 

In a relatively short period of time the business grew to become a very busy place and was supporting just about every restaurant and family in the valley.  Customers could rent drawers that were about 13 cubic feet (3ft x 2.5ft x 18in) to store their meats until they needed them.  They also offered a service of skinning, processing, aging and storing wild game meats; although, all the tools used for those meats had to be thoroughly cleaned before and after use to ensure that no domestic meats could be contaminated.  All meat processing work was done at night after the grocery store had closed for the day.  For special cuts of meat, the customers could put in their orders and pick them up the next day from the butcher’s counter in the grocery store.

The “fast” freezer room was a 10 foot by 10 foot room and it was used to freeze the meats for about 10 to 12 hours at -20 degrees.  From there the meats could be moved in to the regular freezer that was kept at a constant 0 to 10 degrees.  The regular freezer was where the customers’ drawers were located as well as some of the hanging meats that were not in the warmer aging room.  The warmer section was where the half-cows the store purchased were kept hanging as well as the wild game until processed.

Customers could even bring in their game meat to have the pelts removed and discarded or returned to them.  The store charged a flat fee for this service which was usually done by my father except during very busy times.  Once removed, the skins would be coated in salt and rolled up.  The pelts, or skins, would also be available for other business or individuals if the original customer had no use for them.  Processing and storing the pelts was one of the “worst” aspects of the job according to my dad.  On one occasion my father skinned 20 deer in a single night, setting a personal record.

In processing the meat special care was made to ensure that no contamination ever took place.  Not only were the utensils cleaned between processing game meats and domestic beef, but there was a separate set of tools and butcher’s blocks to process the poultry as well.  Back then, hamburger meat came to the store “un-ground” in large boxes.  The meat was ground based on customer requirements and was always the highest quality and free from food borne contaminates commonly found today.

During very busy times the work became a family effort.  Even the kids were asked to help.  My mother had the best handwriting of anyone and was always asked to do the package labeling.  The kids helped keep the place clean while the others did the processing and heavy lifting.

Another service The Frozen Food Locker Plant provided was to the local game warden.  Whenever an animal was confiscated it would be brought to the Meat Locker where the evidence was removed and stored and the meat was processed and given to needy families or to the hospital.

The Frozen Food Locker Plant provided a valuable service to the local restaurants and families alike for nearly 22 years, only closing its doors when the grocery store was sold.  The Wheeler Opera House was long overdue for extensive renovation and the partners knew its time had come.  Aspen’s history is filled with stories of local businesses that have come and gone; sadly, many of them have been long forgotten.

Many of my stories are about singular events or about the people and places we all grew up with.  This story tells of a great business, the people who worked there and the many who benefited from it.  I am proud of my family’s history that dates back to 1883 when we came to town.  This story is one of my favorites.

Aspen Mountain Jeep Lift

1954

The season was off to a full swing and the town was filled to capacity with visitors.  The guests were eager to get up on the hill and make first tracks in the fresh snow, spend the day skiing and of course cap it off with the best Apris ski dinner and drinks anywhere on the plant.  Aspen was smaller back then, and to say the town was at capacity would mean 200 to 300 people were in town on vacation.  With the “quiet years” fading in her memory, Aspen wanted to put its best foot forward as any resort knew it must.  Word of mouth was the best advertising or the worst.

Lift 1

In 1953 Lift 1 was a state of the art, single chairlift that could carry its passengers swiftly to the midway point on Aspen Mountain.  A short distance from the top of Lift 1 was the loading area for Lift 2 which was the final leg to reach the top of the mountain.  The entire trip on a good day could get you to the top of the mountain in just under 30 minutes.  From there you could spend the day skiing on the top half of the mountain, only needing to ski down at the end of the day.  By this time Lift 3 was now in operation which provided a quick trip back to the top from Tourtolette Park.  Others liked the thrill of being able to ski from the top to the bottom in record time and get their breath back during the extended ride back up.

On very cold days, the chairs had wool-lined canvas covers that the occupants could snuggle into for the trip up the mountain.  The newest covers even had plastic windows to look out while being completely covered from the elements.   Often the skiers would fall asleep and the operators at the top would be forced to stop the lift in order to wake up their guests and get them safely off the lift.

The Sundeck

At the top of Aspen Mountain at 12,212 feet sat the original Sundeck lodge.  Herbert Bayer designed the Sundeck with some very innovative ideas of the time.  It was a round building with a giant rock fireplace in the middle.  The roof was made of copper and was reversed so that the middle sat lower than the outer edges.  The chimney from the fire place pointed out the middle of the roof.   This design allowed the snow to collect on the roof and the heat of the fires would heat the copper roof causing the snow to melt.  The water was collected and ran down a pipe to the bathrooms on the lower level which provided some of the water necessary to flush the toilets.  All other water requirements were met with water brought up to the sundeck on snow cats or by other means.

The Sundeck also boasted large windows with 360 degree views of the surrounding mountains and valleys.  In the warmer months skiers could eat outside on small decks that overlooked the Capital and Maroon Valleys and beyond.

Over the years many additions were made to the original building, expanding the kitchen, living quarters were added so that the restaurant offered extended dining hours as well as coverage for the lift crews and ski patrol.  Finally, in 1999 the old building was demolished making room for the “new” Sundeck.

Disaster Strikes

I do not know the specific date of the disaster but, suffice to say it was a bad day no matter when it happened.  During morning operations one of the “cogs” (teeth) on Lift 1’s six-foot bull wheel broke off bringing the lift to a halt.   There were no riders on at the time; however, the lift was down until a repair could be made.  At first the mechanic brought in thought he could pin and weld the broken piece back on, but soon learned that the bull wheel would need to be replaced.  While the lift crew set out to get a replacement for the bull wheel the town was faced with a public relations disaster of its own.

It would not take long for word to get out that Aspen was not the place to go skiing.  With that in mind the president of the Chamber of Commerce, Natalie Gignoux, put out a call for help.  They had to get the skiers back up on the mountain as quickly as possible.

At the time, the Midnight Mine was still in operation on the back of Aspen Mountain, and the road was in pretty good shape up to the mine.  The last few miles would need to be cleared in order to provide rides to the Sundeck.  John Hyrup spent all night plowing the final stretch of the road to the top, and by morning a single lane road was opened.

First thing in the morning, an armada of Jeeps, Jeep station wagons and any other usable four-wheel drive vehicles were assembled in town and ready to make the trips necessary to shuttle the skiers up.  Natalie, the owner of “The Little Percent Taxi,” offered up a couple of her jeeps.  Elizabeth Worden offered her jeep for the fleet as did many other local Jeep owners.  David Stapleton, John Thorpe, Euclid Worden, my father (Neil Beck) and a host of other volunteers provided the necessary drivers.

Each vehicle could carry up to three or four skiers and their equipment.  Since the road past the mine was only wide enough for one vehicle at a time, the fleet moved up and down in a giant caravan.  The skiers were asked to stay up on the top half of the mountain for the day in order to ensure there were enough rides for everyone.  The skiers stayed up until the last run down, with a few guests and locals alike ignoring the request and gaining the ire of the volunteers.  Meanwhile, Mr. Bowles (Art’s dad) offered his snow cat to bring the new bull wheel up the mountain the next day.  It was also used to pull the empty toboggans back up the hill throughout the day.

The “Jeep Lift” ran from about 8:00am until after 2:00pm that day.  With the hard work and indomitable spirit of the community, the “Jeep Lift” was a success and the vacations of the town’s guests were saved.

Ferrari Pine Tree

Summer 1977

It was a red Ferrari 308GTB and Roy Reid was the proud owner.  Roy had wanted a Ferrari most of his adult life and after one failed attempt at a purchase a few years earlier he finally got what he had been dreaming for.  Roy or Kay, Roy’s wife, could be seen all over town in the car.  In fact you could see it coming for blocks.

The care and maintenance was, some might say, foolishly entrusted to a local mechanic, Rip Martin and his crew.  Sure, the big stuff would have to be done at the nearest Ferrari dealership, but the oil changes, tire repair and replacement and other trivial work could be done locally.

Dropping the Ferrari off one day for it to be readied for display at this year’s Design Conference, would be the last time Roy would ever sit behind the wheel.  Its fate was sealed.   Roy was a trusting man, perhaps too trusting.  Call it a fatal flaw or a lapse in judgment but whatever it was that day was not going to turn out the way he had planned.

With the work completed the mechanic took it upon himself to take it for a spin.  You know make sure the repair was completed and that the car was ready to go on display.  In the hours leading up to the delivery, a party had taken place at Rip’s garage.  Alan Drobnak, the mechanic, headed out of town towards Independence Pass instead of over to the west end where it was expected.  A short drive up the pass and back should be more than enough to certify his work and satisfy his desire to drive the car.  At some point while heading up the pass the delivery turned into a joy ride complete with a bottle of champagne.  Who could resist?  This was a Ferrari after all.

I remember this day well.  A couple of friends and I had decided to spend the afternoon up at the grottos.  Right above Difficult Campground on Highway 82 Roy’s Ferrari passed us by like we were standing still.  He must have been going 100 plus miles per hour.  Aside from being impressed at Roy’s willingness to “open her up” I did not give it much more thought.  We continued on to the Grottos as usual.

Meanwhile, Mr. Drobnak had taken the Ferrari up to Lost Man Campground in record time.  This was his turn-around point before heading back to town.  As he headed back west, with the car pushing 100 miles per hour or so, he headed into the “S” turns just below the Braille Trail.  These turns are particularly dangerous as they are known as decreasing radius curves.  What that means is that they get tighter the further into the curve you go.

Half way through the first curve the Ferrari and its “pilot” left the roadway hitting a very large Blue Spruce pine tree about 30 feet up.  The mechanic was uninjured, but the car was destroyed.  I think I would have been happier being incarcerated for what I had done rather than have to face Roy and let him know what had happened to his new car.

For years after the accident you could still see where the Ferrari hit the tree.  It was always a great reminder of the impending peril for those who ignored the warnings of the “curve ahead” signed posted along the roadway.