Day: September 11, 2011

Deaf Camp Picnics – Mercedes 300SEL Off-Road Sedan

1960’s and 1970’s

The 1975 Deaf Camp Picnic was held in the parking area and adjoining field at the bottom of the “Camp Ground” chair lift in the Snowmass Valley.  The picnic had become so successful and attracted so many people this was the only location big enough to hold it.

By this time John Denver had not only committed his own band to perform but also convinced the members of The Nitty Gritty Dirt Band, Jimmy Buffett and The Eagles to donate some of their talents to the music acts.  The bands played for hours and did so rain or shine.  The valley also made the music echo throughout and it gave the music a special sound all of its own.

All of the picnics had no shortage of beer at a very low-cost.  Add to the fact that some of the attendees also enjoyed a bit of “whackie tobackie” throughout the day gave the picnics a very festive feel.  The downside was the fact that the location was 14 miles from Aspen over a dirt road to Snowmass Village or back up valley to the “divide” and over to highway 82.  There was no shortcut to getting home for any of the attendees, although some brought camping gear and slept off their “fun” returning safely home the next day.

At the 1975 picnic I was nine months away from getting my driver’s license and none of my fellow siblings were ready to leave when I wanted to.  Complaining a bit loudly, Steve Weisberg, John Denver’s lead guitarist offered me a ride home and I jumped at the chance.  Steve had been playing in John’s band for a few years.  At the time Steve was married to the daughter of the man who invented Fritos.  The two of them lived up by the Aspen High School in a nearby Highland’s sub-division.

I had met Steve on a number of occasions as John and sometimes his band played in my School every year from when I was in second or third grade until my junior year.  He did it as a favor of my Mom, Pam Beck as well as for another “serial volunteer” in the valley by the name of Trudy Barr.

Steve said his goodbyes to some of the nearby fans and we headed off to his car.  A Mercedes 300SEL with a 4.5 liter engine, it was beautiful!  I was, and remain to this day; a huge fan of Mercedes automobiles and this was by far the nicest one I had ever seen or had the pleasure to ride in.  As we exited the parking lot he had two choices, go left and take the rough dirt road, Divide Way; over the ridge and into Snowmass Village or go right and take the paved roads back to town over the “Watson Divide” and up highway 82.  I was certain Steve would go right as who in their right mind would drive this car on a jeep road?  Wrong! We went left.

I am not saying Steve did not appreciate the finer automobiles of the day but it is safe to say he did not worry about what happened to this one.  He drove fast and flew over the bumps and ruts in the road.  This car had nice suspension but even it could not compensate for the bigger rocks.  He slowed down only once and that was to say “Hi” to a friend headed the other direction, in a Jeep!

We hit the pavement still in once piece and the ride back to town from there was as smooth as glass.  Now I doubt Steve could even recall this particular event but for me, I had a blast and that car was nice!  It only took me 36 years to get one of my own, but it will never go off road.

Thanks for the lift Steve!

“The Deaf Camp benefit, every year, was the most stunning playing experience of my career. It eclipsed Red Rocks, Madison Square Garden and the likes. When the kids would put their hands on the stage to ‘hear’ our music, it was the most memorable audience reaction I’ve experienced to date.” – Steve Weisberg

The Carbondale to Aspen Express

Circa Early 1960’s or Maybe Late 50’s

The “old man” had long been homeless and enjoyed an occasional alcoholic beverage, or maybe more than one.  It is not to say he was an alcoholic, in fact little was known about the man even though he had lived in the valley for years.

What was known was that his past included time working for the railroad so the process of operating a diesel locomotive was not foreign to him.  The time it takes to get a locomotive ready for the rails from a cold start can often take hours so it was not uncommon to leave a locomotive idling in the rail yard for hours if not days.  On this particular day the yard crew had parked the locomotive on a siding while they headed into Carbondale for a meal.  When they returned from their meal, the locomotive was nowhere in sight.

The “Old Man” headed up valley towards Aspen from the Carbondale yard.  What the workers did know was what direction the locomotive had headed but the speed or intention of the hijacker was unknown.  With no other option, they quickly alerted the authorities.  The Roaring Fork Valley was and is still known to this day as a “rumor mill” or epic proportions and I am sure that the rumors of death and doom headed up valley faster than the “old man” and his ride.

The end of the line was just past the Rio Grande Yard in Aspen.  In earlier years the tracks completely circled town but as the mines shut down and the scrap iron was needed for the war efforts of World War One and Two the tracks were eventually taken up and the end was now by the old trestle along the river down by the Riverside Trailer Park, just below where the Aspen Eagles Club is located.  The Riverside Trailer Park was owned by Buck Buchannan who also happened to be the County’s surveyor at the time.

As some of the local authorities started looking for the missing locomotive others started blocking off intersections and evacuating the trailer park.  Convinced that the locomotive was headed straight for Aspen, they focused all of their efforts up valley.

Meanwhile back “down valley” the old man brought the locomotive slowly to a stop near the Woody Creek Store.  Without anyone noticing he”
tied down” or secured the locomotive walked a short distance to a nearby road and caught a ride the rest of the way into town.

It took some time for the authorities to work their way down the valley before locating the idling locomotive in Woody Creek.  The Hijacker
was long gone and probably finishing his second or third beer by then.  As days, perhaps weeks passed, some of the locals figured out who had committed the hijacking but no one was talking, especially the “old man.”