Legendary Colorado
There are mountains. And then there are mountains that force you to shift forwards in your ski boots, lock in and pay attention.
Few places capture the collective imagination of skiers worldwide with the same twangs of thrill and yearning like the legendary Rocky Mountains. The peaky cornices of Arapahoe Basin, the fabled back bowls of Vail and the gladed stashes of Beaver Creek remain rooted in the minds and muscle memory of those who have made turns in them. As for the storybook Colorado villages dappled around their bases; they will leave marks on the hearts of most unsuspecting powder pilgrims.
Ski fiend and travel writer KATE ALLMAN discovers it all on a winter mission through Colorado.
Arapahoe Basin
I’m soaring above a white canvas, skis pivoting left and right through the air as I draw my first imaginary lines from the chairlift. Sparkles prick up in little rainbows from tiny flakes reflecting ultraviolet light.
We are cruising through the high, thin air of the Rocky Mountains, under typically dazzling Colorado sunshine. A surprise dump – which is so common in this state we should really stop using the word surprise – has struck overnight. It’s not “officially” a powder day but US snow reporters have done what they always do and underreported the accumulation, leaving the foot or two of fresh to only those in the know. The mountain looks resplendent.
Arapahoe Basin – known as A-Basin to locals – has one of the longest ski seasons in the USA. It has peaks to rival the tallest (the hike-accessed East Wall is 13,000 feet – equal to nearby Breckenridge’s famous Peak 8), and powder that falls by the metre-load.
It’s less than two hours from Denver and off a highway that is notorious for weekend warrior traffic, the i70. Somehow, though, we’re the only three skiers on the scene.
“Where is everyone?” I ask local ski patroller Louis Skowyra, A-Basin’s Director of Mountain Operations.
“Oh this? This is a pretty standard Tuesday for us,” he grins back.
The highest peaks jut into a wind-wrestled sky, creating A-Basin’s famous A-framed cornices that collect creamy landings after fresh snow. Portions of groomer corduroy are hemmed on either side by shin-deep meadows. We dive headfirst over the backside into empty Moctezuma Bowl, a favourite playground at A-Basin.
It’s zoomies on Zuma Bowl, then a refuel. Il Rifugio is the highest-elevation restaurant on the continent, at an incredible 12,456 feet. Warm and welcoming after a morning in deceptively cold temperatures (despite the sun, high elevation keeps the snow crisp and the mercury lower than it may appear).
When I visit in January 2024, A-Basin is still floating outside the two-pass ski war raging across the rest of the country, before it is bought by Ikon Pass owners Alterra in February. Its independence and lack of pretentiousness has long been a source of fierce pride for locals.
The culture is a quirky dichotomy: on one hand they call it “the legend” for its fabled big mountain expert terrain and steeps. An area dubbed the “Steep Gullies” was once all backcountry terrain that was added within the ski area boundary in recent years and offers some of the steepest and most challenging in-bounds terrain in Colorado.
On the other hand, it has a reputation for riotous and spontaneous après parties – which start and end in the parking lot just steps from the lifts. Sun spills into the lot through the afternoon, as hordes of skied-out riders drift toward their vehicles with no intention of going home immediately. Lounge chairs, beers, barbeques, and boom boxes appear and the area becomes “the Beach”. Many a reddened goggle tan shows up to work on Monday after a weekend at the Beach.
The origins of this baked-on ski bum culture are also legendary. A former US Army skier called Larry Jump – yep, his real name – was a statewide surveyor who had been hired by Colorado to scope out potential ski areas after WWII. He and two Olympic skiers on the US ski team opened the resort in 1946 with one mid-mountain rope tow. To get to the rope tow, skiers were chauffeured in a US Army troop carrier pulled uphill through the snow by a four-wheel drive. The opening date in 1946 makes it Colorado’s oldest ski resort.
Adding to the appeal, A-Basin towers above a charming historic ski town called Frisco, population 3000. Silver and gold rooted it here in the mining days of the late 1800s. These days its major drawcard is as a basecamp of outdoor adventures. Fat bikers, hikers, campers and snowshoers thrive but skiing is the main game – it is affectionately dubbed the “Main Street of the Rockies” as it’s smack bang between six resorts including Breckenridge, Vail and Copper Mountain. As snowflakes float under lamp posts outside my window at Frisco Inn overnight, I can feel the town tightening its grip on my snow-addled soul.
After my visit, Alterra Mountain Company acquires A-Basin and announces plans to bring it under the Ikon Pass. It’s unquestionably a boon for Australian and New Zealand visitors who come to the US wielding multi-resort passes. Plus, I have to hand it to Alterra – the company has a decent track record in preserving the uniqueness of resorts around the world while upgrading older facilities and investing profits back into the mountains. The cowboy powder haven of Steamboat in Colorado, the luxurious ski mecca of Deer Valley in Utah, and the wild southern steeps of Taos in New Mexico are three Ikon Pass examples in neighbouring states with vastly different – and awesome – vibes.
Alterra’s acquisition also gives me a key piece of bragging ammunition when I return to Australia. Did you ski A-Basin when it was still independent? I did, and it was dreamy.
Vail
Whether you have skied Vail or not, you likely have heard of it, and possibly formed an impression of it. Such is the transcendent impact this mountain has had on ski culture throughout history.
It’s the namesake of global ski giant Vail Resorts and its Epic Pass. The fourth-largest skiable area on the continent with 5,317 acres and 195 runs. And it’s the birthplace of the winningest Alpine skier in history – Mikaela Shiffrin, who has two Olympic Gold medals and 97 World Cups in her career, at just 29 years old.
All of that should be reason enough for every skier to hit Vail at least once in their lifetime. Yet for contradictory reasons, some choose to avoid it. Social media lift lines plague ski resorts everywhere on busy weekends in Colorado, and no resort is immune. Midweek, the lines are non-existent; but those who enjoy it are smart enough not to share on TikTok videos. The benefit of being at a larger resort is having the space and infrastructure to disperse them. The benefit of Vail specifically is being able to jump up and over multiple peaks to get to the far backside, where very few people venture. These are the Back Bowls, and these are what makes Vail legendary.
When Vail follows the Colorado winter script (dumping overnight and bluebird by sunrise), the Back Bowls are the best place in the state to be. The early risers rush to claim first tracks in a skating, huffing, turn-avoidant pack. Up another lift and straight-line down the next. But soon, all at once, there’s no need to quarrel. Because the enormous Back Bowls reveal themselves and their jaw-dropping, endless terrain with powder enough for everyone.
Ant-sized figures make S-curves across the horizon, choosing tree mazes on Shangri-La or rolling up and down a natural halfpipe on skiers’ right of China Bowl. Cloud 9 magnetises many to its gladed trees and fun-size bumps. Meanwhile, Steep & Deep is exactly what it sounds like – a shock re-entry out of the après and BBQ parties convening on the outdoor grills at Blue Sky Basin.
This year, we visit between storms which means I miss reliving the waist-deep powder I’ve experienced on prior Vail trips, but instead stumble into pleasing new territory. Previously, the Back Bowls became a crusted-over nightmare within a day or two after snow, hardening as they faced the melting southern sun. These days, Vail sends groomer cats all the way over the backside to clear areas of soft corduroy at first light, with ungroomed glades and cliff options still available on either side. The daring can hit Dragon’s Teeth off China Bowl while cruisers in the same group can carve blue cords right next to them.
Unlike other Colorado ski towns that emerged out of the mining boom, Vail was once cabbage and lettuce-farming land. The village was purpose-built to cater to skiers from its very inception when the mountain opened in 1962. Thus, the two base villages, Vail village and Lionshead (both have direct gondola access up the mountain), are walkable in ski boots and brimming with après options. A favourite for this writer is the Tavern on the Square at the base of the Arabelle hotel (try the Elk with barbeque sauce on the side). Luxury hotels like The Arabelle and The Hythe jostle with Aspen brands to claim the most high-end ski accommodations in the country. And yet you’ll still run into all kinds of hardcore ski bums making their way up the valley, many who don peeling Gortex and care not for ski fashion but have eyes only for the Back Bowls.
Aspen faithfuls love to undermine the purpose-built village but the answer by Vail locals is a good one. “Aspen is a real town with fake people. Vail is a fake town with real people.” The truth is both mountains are awesome for their own unique qualities. If you don’t believe me, that’s just more powder to the people.
Beaver Creek
Beaver Creek may be named after the cute furry animals that inhabited the land before it was a ski resort and have a reputation as a holiday destination for the Housewives of Beverley Hills. But just like both those conniving creatures, the Beav has deceptively sharp teeth.
Ski the Beav and you’ll come to understand why this mountain deserves more than a passing glance as you make your way down the valley from Vail. It boasts some of the steepest and most technically challenging runs in the nation. Birds of Prey drops 2,470 feet in 1.71 miles, with a heart-stopping 45 percent pitch somewhere in the middle. Adjacent run Raptor was built in anticipation of the 2015 Women’s World Championship Races and saw the pros clocking speeds of 120km/h. Fair warning; it is a championship course, so its caretakers intermittently hose the course down with water. Making a turn on the resulting sheet ice can be like trying to find a fingernail grip on glass.
The Beav is made up of three ridgelines running towards its base village in “talons” named in honour of predatory flying creatures. Grouse Mountain, Larkspur and Birds of Prey are the talons. The “Talon Challenge” is to ski all 14 black runs across the resort in a single day.
On my first day in Beaver Creek, we don’t bother glancing at the trail map and make our way up Grouse Mountain. This is the talon that accesses steep black and double-black expert terrain only. A gate at the top is like a red flag to a bull. Naturally we slide through it and hit the trees of Royal Elk Glade on the ski area boundary. It’s a mix of fear, thrill and joy as tall pines close in around me and then open up in wide-open powder meadows.
Stone Creek Chutes boasts big cliff drops for skiers who really want to send it. Meanwhile Frontside Trees remain remarkably untouched on powder days as everyone rushes to the backside. A turnoff for beginners but a delight for those attacking the frontside with teeth.
Speaking of attacking with teeth, Beaver Creek village is one place to splurge on your eat-out budget. First do so at Mediterranean restaurant Citrea, where share plates of marinated beets, oozing mozzarella, lamb osso bucco and moreish woodfired flatbread will haunt you for months. Alternatively (or additionally) a dinner at historic farmhouse Beano’s Cabin is a unique highlight of a trip here. You reserve your spot, check in at the base of the mountain in the evening to be chauffeured uphill on a sleigh under moonlight. The best part is the lack of decision fatigue involved; first course is a warming bowl of soup with crusty bread and beyond that you simply choose from two options for each of three remaining courses of local Coloradan cuisine.
The lack of decision fatigue could be the best part of Beaver Creek in general. It has some of the best grooming in the world, so corduroy stays fresh and soft if ever the snow is lacking. And when the storms come, the trees groan under the weight of powder for weeks afterwards. The mountain somehow gains 300 inches of snow and 300 days of sunshine every year. If you’re flying across the world to chase reliable conditions, skiing the Beav is a safe bet.
Fort Collins
While not technically a ski area, this Colorado mountain town should be on itineraries of adventurers looking to get off the beaten track. It’s a base camp for a variety of lesser-known and independent ski resorts in the north of the state including Echo Mountain, Loveland and Eldora. It’s also the gateway to Front Range backcountry skiing around Cameron Pass, with the notorious bowls and chutes of Seven Utes Mountain, and on the doorstep of Rocky Mountain National Park. With the right safety gear, experience and map skills, you can enter new undiscovered worlds from Fort Collins.
The whole area is a magnet for adrenaline seekers – if you need a day off skis, the best bike paths, trail running routes, river rafting and hiking in Colorado start here. The town itself is a hidden gem – an historic Western outpost with a charming walkable downtown area, the ideal stopover en route to the slopes from Denver airport and a lot cheaper than staying on snow. Healthy local food stands out here more than elsewhere (the moreish brussels sprouts at café Ginger and Baker are in my top five veggie dishes ever). It’s also known as the craft beer capital of Colorado, with more than 21 craft breweries to rehydrate after a long day up in the mountains.
This year, an unfortunate injury prevented my powder pilgrimage reaching into the untrodden backcountry of Colorado. That adventure we will save for another day. Nevertheless, our diversion to FoCo remains joyfully etched in my memories. Another Colorado legend to check out before it’s too late.