EXCLUSIVE: Skier's paradise that becomes a summer sports dream when the snow melts
Mirror reporter Chris Granet finds scenic mountain biking and rodeo thrills in the high altitudes of Aspen, Colorado — one of the most affluent parts of America
The guide gave us strict instructions. “Keep both hands on the handlebars. Don’t look around. Don’t take photos.” But I had to defy orders. I couldn’t help it. It was all too beautiful. I cycled first with only one hand, then none, as I shot videos of the magnificent alpine landscape surrounding us.
We were freewheeling down from the Maroon Bells, the twin peaks behind the twin towns of Aspen and Snowmass, their snowy caps still clinging to the last vestiges of winter despite it being late June.
This part of the Rocky Mountains of Colorado is better known for its skiing and winter activities, yet in summer becomes a playground for those who like to explore the land no longer hidden by white stuff.
I’d flown in from Denver, leaving the state capital basking in the evening sunshine as we drifted over the snow-stained mountains. Flocks of private jets lined the runway of little Aspen airport. I’d never seen so many. Then again, I was in one of the most affluent areas in the US, with up to 125 billionaires owning property. Visitors seem to be mostly rich or “aspirational”. Think South of France or Dubai, but with cowboys.
Our hotel was the cool W, at the centre of Aspen and close to the cable car station. It was as modern and trendy as the other Ws I’ve visited, yet smaller in scale – less flash, more cosy. After freshening up, I joined my tour group on the rooftop bar where we quaffed cocktails as the sun set with golden rays kissing Mount Aspen.
Drinks drained, we set off for dinner through the quaint, leafy streets of Aspen, which show few traces of its gritty past as a silver mining town. After the silver boom was over, Aspen’s fortunes sank and only recovered after being developed into a ski resort in the mid-20th century.
I noticed I was having a little difficulty walking. The alcohol? No, the 8,000ft altitude. (The thin mountain air would render me short of breath for the next few days). The atmospheric Steakhouse No. 316 was with dark wood walls, deep red furnishing, and cool Old West chic décor. My fillet steak was cooked to medium-rare perfection, accompanied by hand-cut fries, and washed down with a spicy margarita. Yum.
Sadly, pesky jetlag ended the frivolities, knocking me out by 11pm, then pinging me awake at 3.30am. At least it meant I was first to breakfast. I had elk sausage and eggs – my first taste of the majestic beasts that still roam the region – strong, smoky, and as tasty as they are handsome. Poor elk.
The morning’s activities included e-biking up the valley via pretty wetlands basking in glorious sunshine (the power-assisted pedalling a godsend for our altitude-affected lungs) and a visit to the cool Aspen Art Museum, with its funky wooden lattice exterior and six galleries of contemporary art. We lunched at the museum’s rooftop restaurant. Its food may have been bland, but the view of Mount Aspen was as breathtaking as the stairs up there.
All the locals we passed or met that day were ridiculously friendly, giving way to us with wide smiles or happy hellos. Despite Aspen being so upmarket, it had none of the haughtiness you might expect in similar British or European resorts.
Post-lunch, we perused souvenir shops. The highlight was Kemo Sabe, a Western-themed store selling custom cowboy clobber and staffed by a posse of glamorous “sales wranglers”. Unfortunately it’s as expensive as it is cool, with hats averaging around $1,000. I saw a simple leather hatband for $8,776. Surely, no one’s that aspirational?
Keeping the Western theme, dinner was at the historic Hotel Jerome, a grand building constructed in the 19th century as a rival to London’s Savoy. Its bars and restaurants exuded a more mild west charm, though the seven-course tasting menu that was billed as a "narrative" was sadly lacking in nourishment. Still, the cocktails were excellent and the history palpable.
The grandness continued as we ambled to the nearby Wheeler Opera House for an Emmylou Harris concert. I’d embarrassingly never heard of her, and the 77-year-old, 14 Grammy-winning folk singer put my ignorance to shame as her mesmeric voice resonated around the handsome Victorian-era hall.
After another night of jetlag-curtailed sleep, I was pleased we took a cable car to the summit of Mount Aspen for an open-air yoga class. I may not have contorted that well, but at least I could stretch out my tired limbs while overlooking a stunning swathe of mountains.
Lunch was back down at the Ajax Tavern next to the cable car station. Its signature truffle fries were fantastic, but the signature double beef burgers were quite average. At least the Caesar salad made up for it, probably the best I’ve ever had.
That sunny evening we moved on to Snowmass, just 15 minutes down the valley, stopping first at the rodeo. But this wasn’t just any rodeo, this was the Snowmass Rodeo – more glamorous, with lots of well-Cuban-heeled cowboys and girls sporting Kemo Sabe hats and designer sunglasses. Still, it felt down-to-earth, with perky families and smiles all around.
The events in the sandy arena were a mix of children’s sheep riding (yes, really), bullock lassoing and barrel racing, culminating in bull riding.At one stage, dark clouds spilled in from the nearby mountains and broke overhead, but with the rain came a spectacular double rainbow, like nothing I'd ever seen.
Snowmass Village itself has a different vibe from Aspen. Here, the resort is built around the skiing – and not vice versa – with a network of trails and pistes fanning up the massive Snowmass Mountain.
In the summer, the forested slopes are a mountain biker’s paradise, with more than 50 miles of trails. As we rode the gondola up the Elk Camp side of the mountain the next morning, we watched as they bombed down, churning up the switchback trails, and flying over jumps.Great fun, but we instead got our thrills from the Breathtaker Alpine Coaster, a mini roller coaster in the forest where you speed downhill in little toboggans, my bum squeaking as loudly as the brakes I constantly applied.
From the cable car terminal, there’s a chairlift up to the summit of Elk Camp. Sadly, it was cold and rainy up there and the spectacular views of the Maroon Bells obscured by cloud. But as we hiked back down through pretty woodlands, the clouds dispersed and the sun was shining by the time we reached the gondola terminal.
A pitstop for lunch at the restaurant – bland salad, amazing pizza – fuelled us for the descent into stunning aspen tree woods above the village. Tall and graceful, the afternoon sun struck their silver bark and cast long shadows. What with the birdsong and after-the-rain aromas, it felt magical.
Snowmass’s nightlife is more subdued than Aspen’s. We dined one night at Aurum, an upmarket Mediterranean/American fusion restaurant – with more great steak and cocktails – then another at amazing Kenichi, a Japanese spot with not only the best food of the trip, but the best Japanese food I’ve ever tasted.
Zane’s and The Tavern are two popular bars – the former a low-key sports bar/pub, the latter packed with rowdy young revellers drowning out the croaky old country singer.
Our final morning began with that bike ride down from the Maroon Bells. The view of the twin peaks towering over the pristine Maroon Lake was the most spectacular sight of the trip. Sadly, our time there was short, but the ride back down to Aspen, with its stunning scenery, was a fitting finale.And with it being downhill all the way, it was the perfect time to regain all the breath that had been taken away – both literally and figuratively.
Book the holiday
- United Airlines flies from Heathrow to Aspen via Denver or Chicago from £908 return during summer. united.com
- Rooms at the W Aspen hotel start at £540 a night during summer. marriott.com
- Condominiums at The Crestwood in Snowmass start at £220 during summer. thecrestwood.com
- More info at aspenchamber.org gosnowmass.com