I Once Lived "The Dream" In Aspen... Part Two

Obviously, TBR did not like Michael and preferred for me to marry someone with money. She always said it was just as easy to fall in love with a rich man as it was a poor one. Whatever. Unlike her, I wasn't able to control my heart or emotions like that. I have always gone with my heart and my gut. I probably always will.

Michael was actually from a farming family in Levelland, Texas by whom he'd been adopted as a baby. He was never close to them because he knew they'd only adopted him because they needed a boy to help them farm their land. They had a daughter they treated like a princess and Michael got to do all the work. Several years after graduating from Texas Tech he discovered he liked skiing more than farming and headed to Aspen with a friend from college. Otherwise, we would have never met. Jim, his friend from college eventually moved back to Texas, but Michael was there to stay.

The Brown Recluse had bought me a new wardrobe to start college with, but when told I was dropping out of school and going back to Aspen, she took them all back and gave them to charity. That was nothing new. She had done that to me my entire life, every time she got mad at me. Whatever her latest gift to me was, it was yanked at a moment's notice, on the whims of her flaming temper. Of course, she kept Peggy Sue too, because she knew that would hurt me even more. It did hurt, but I wanted away from her so badly that I just didn't care. That was the last time I would ever again live under her roof. Thank God.

Michael knew what had happened since we talked every day. Once I returned to Aspen, I moved in with Michael, where we lived blissfully in sin for a couple of months. He proposed to me one day on the chair lift and of course, I bawled like a baby while trying to accept. Then, we were married on January 12th on top of Aspen (Ajax) Mountain, on skis, with 50 or so close friends in attendance. It was a perfectly gorgeous day so we all skied en masse for the rest of the day. It didn't matter to me where we skied because I loved all the runs. The Ridge of Bell, Ruthie's Run, Gentleman's Ridge. We hit them all that day. It was like an enormous party on skis. We had no real reception or honeymoon because everyone worked 6 days a week during the ski season back then. We worked 7 days a week during holidays and Spring Break. Besides, when you lived someplace like Aspen, what better place could you possibly go? We were already in paradise and couldn't afford to go anywhere anyway.

By that time I was working as a ski lift/ski school ticket seller in Snowmass Village at the top of Fanny Hill, which led up to Sam's Knob and Campground (which was the best skiing in Snowmass at the time). It really was a dream job because our schedules pretty much revolved around free ski time. Everyone got time to ski every day, in addition to getting a free season pass for skiing. Yes, we were all ski bums and proud of it. Life could not have been better unless we had won the lottery.

During this time we lived in an apartment complex in Aspen that was actually employee housing for the Aspen Ski Corp. It was called The Hillside Apartments, which is where The Ritz Carlton hotel stands today, at the base of Little Nell, AKA Aspen Mountain, AKA Ajax. I loved our cozy little apartment that was tucked away in a corner of the building, in spite of the fact our bedroom was only big enough for the bed. Yes, it was wall to wall bed. Our kitchen was so tiny that it was about the size of a small bathroom, which was a moot point, since I couldn't even boil water back then. We ate most of our meals on the mountain anyway, because of employee discounts. At night we were on our own and most often ate out with friends we worked & skied with. Everyone that worked for The Ski Corp. back then was a tight knit group, even between the three mountains. Ajax. Buttermilk/Tiehack, and Snowmass. Aspen Highlands was not yet a part of the Aspen Ski Corp., as it is today.

Our work days were long but the rewards and benefits were more than worth it. We lived in Ski Corp housing (which was eau de cheap), we received employee discounts at all mountain restaurants, discounts at most local ski equipment shops, as well as the free Season Ski Pass, which was worth its weight in gold. For someone my age, it truly was like living your dream.

Since we both worked in Snowmass, Michael and I were able to ski together during the day unless he was out on detail or rescue. I often went with him if we were skiing when he got a call on his radio, to take care of an injured skier or mark a patch of exposed rocks (sitzmarks), or whatever. Watching Michael take care of an injured and frightened skier was a thing of beauty. He was always so gentle and spoke kindly to the injured, as he went through the motions of his job. I also loved to watch him ski. He was a beautiful and talented skier and always looked so magnificent streamlining down the hill on his boards. He looked like something straight out of a Ski Magazine advertisement. Even when he had icescicles hanging off of his brows and mustache.

I got off work before Michael did, so I would usually take the last chair up the mountain to wherever he was assigned that day, and would join he and another patrolman for *clearing* at the end of the day. *Clearing* was when pairs of patrolmen would clear the mountain on each and every run after the chairlifts had closed down, making sure there were no stranded or hurt skiers. I always loved doing that. As we each skied down the mountain we would yell "CLEARING!" so that anyone stranded would hear us and be able to call for help. Other than that, it was almost a pristine quiet.

One Patrol friend of ours named Radar Lundh (who came from Taos, N.M.) was a yodeller. I adored doing clearing with him because he would yodel in between yelling "clearing". He also cracked me up because he skied with his skis really far apart which always made him take on a comical air about him. I'll tell you more about our dear friend Radar at a later point.

Our first Winter ski season together was sheer Heaven and life was good. As the ski season turned into Spring, the employee games and festivities began. Let's see. There was The Ski Jump into the pool at The Wildwood Inn which was located right on Fanny Hill. Then, there were the hilarious cafeteria tray races, the one-ski races and so on. It was a rights of passage time for all locals planning to stay until the next ski season began.

Once the ski areas closed for the off-season, everyone but the trust fund babies found other jobs to sustain them through the Summer and Fall months. Michael worked mornings as a surveyor and also helped with the installation of new lift towers, which was rough, dirty work. I took a job at Aspen Stereo which was owned by Tony Fairchild (heir to Fairchild Cameras from Newark, N.J.), where I spent countless hours alphabetizing record albums. Yes, this was long before CD's and about the time 8-track tape cartridges were going the way of the dinosaurs and cassettes were being slowly introduced, gaining steady popularity.

We spent the Spring and Summer backpacking and fishing in the high country whenever we had time off and did a lot of biking locally when we were working. It was a magic time in my life and I remember every moment of it as if it were just a year or so ago. It was 35 years ago.

To Be Continued...

I Once Lived "The Dream" In Aspen... Part One

I've never told you about my first marriage before. In fact, I'm certain that I've never even mentioned it before. So, let's just call this yet another revealing of my soul to the whole wide world. This is supposed to be therapeutic, right?

When I was 19 and attending college outside Glenwood Springs, Colorado, I was on my own and still living in Aspen. I rented a tiny guest quarters from a couple I had once worked for and become friends with. It was just three rooms but it was all I required since I was seldom home unless it was to sleep, clean up, and change clothes or study. Since I didn't study much, I think you'd be safe with saying I was rarely ever there. The kitchen and living room were one in the same, with a small bedroom and an even smaller bathroom.

I decorated it in the oh-so-boring Pier One Imports look of the times. You know. The Colorful Cotton Bedspread from India, the chair from the second-hand store with a gypsy type shawl thrown over it to cover the holes, the fake Tiffany lamp, lots of fish netting, and an abundance of candles. For my sofa I found and purchased an old footed porcelain bathtub that someone had cut the 1/3 left side off of (the feet were still there), to which I'd added thick, plush velvet pillows that had soft, silky, twisted fringe all around them. Everyone that saw my funky sofa wanted it, but I loved it. I had a couple of framed Peter Max posters on the walls and I thought it was my own little slice of Heaven Pie. It was, for a time.

That was the summer I met my first husband, Michael. I met him while playing pool at Alice's Alley/The Slope, which was a legend in Aspen in the late 1960's and all of the 1970's. This particular year was 1972. Summer. Two guys from the Midwest, fresh out of college, opened a great bar in the basement of a building that had an eating area in the front, a long antique bar down the middle, and an area where billiards and darts were played in the very back. At the time, it was the hottest bar in Aspen and I was a regular, along with my dog Peggy Sue. Yes, I was underage, but I'd practically grown up there. Besides, Peggy Sue was one of the better known and most popular dogs in town. Yes, dogs had their own level of notoriety in Aspen. I suppose they still do.

Peggy Sue had been The Brown Recluse's dog before TBR dumped her because she was moving back to Texas in hot pursuit of some man who was either married or had no interest in her, as usual. It was either me or the poor thing got the needle. TBR was always so dramatic.

However, Peggy Sue and I adjusted quite well to living together. TBR always could train dogs. I never could be stern enough. So, PS was a great companion for me. Her only weakness was tap beer, which she liked to drink out of a clean Coors ashtray, up on the bar at Alice's. Which meant she had to pee a lot. I owned a beat up aging Toyota station wagon then and never drove it anywhere but to school and back. You were much more likely to see me on my ten-speed bike with Peggy Sue close behind me, no matter how fast I went. Hey, she loved it and it kept her nails and body trim (after all those ashtrays full of beer). Of course there were Leash Laws, even then, but locally they were a joke and everyone's dog roamed free. They were the true local *characters*.

I'm getting side-tracked though. Anyway, these two guys from the Midwest also opened another establishment called The Slope, which was nothing more than tiered levels of shag carpeting, a huge movie screen that showed all of the old and current Warren Miller ski movies with a state of the art sound system and served THE BEST drinks in Aspen. It was directly above Alice's Alley so the traffic flow between the two places was usually steady. Now, their secret was that they always kept the heat turned up on high (yes, even in Summer though not as much), which made people drink more (a little known fact to anyone, even then). They did the same in Alice's Alley and baby, the freaking money flowed like The Mighty Mississippi after heavy rains. In between Warren Miller films they would show film footage shot on the mountain (during the ski season) of whoever happened to be skiing on Ajax that day. The tourists loved it and flocked to The Slope in droves to see themselves on the big screen and catch the latest Warren Miller flick. He is a super-hero in the world of ski photography and film. By their third year in operation these guys opened another of the same pair of bars in Vail and the rest is financial history, documented by The Wall Street Journal as I recall.

The reason I know all this is because my brother, The Prince, was their on-the-mountain photographer for a time. He always did get the cushy jobs. He worked for them the next summer too, which is the one I'm relating to. The summer of 1972. He'd gotten a job bar tending at Alice's Alley, which was how I was always able to get in. Well, that and my Heinz 57 mutt, the ever-so-popular Miss Peggy Sue.

The first night I met Michael, I beat him at a couple of games of 8 ball pool and thought he was mildly interesting. The next time I went back he was there again and gave me a nod as I entered the bar. He thought my dog was hilarious and I thought he was handsome in a ruddy, Irish sort of way. He wasn't quite a strawberry blond, but not quite a blond either, having the complexion you'd expect to see on a redhead. He was big and strong and I soon learned he worked for The Aspen Ski Corp., as it was called in the days when Darcy Brown was still huge in the scheme of all things.

In the summer Michael was a surveyor for all the mountains (new ski runs were being cut every year) and in the winter he was a Ski Patrolman in Snowmass, and not The National Ski Patrol or the patrol they have now that is run by the unions.

We saw each other nightly at Alice's for a couple of weeks before I agreed to go out with him. He was 19 years my senior, although he didn't look it at all. His body was a finely tuned machine, as was his mind. By the time the Fall off-season was upon us, he was teaching me to fish all the surrounding rivers, where trout was always plentiful. The Roaring Fork River. The Frying Pan River. Reudi Dam. Maroon Bells Lake. Snowmass Lake. It was his passion and it soon became mine, as he was a gentle teacher. He had his big waders and I had my small waders. He with his fly rod and self tied flies and I with my spinning rod and No. 1 Mepps Spinners. All the patience in the world could not have taught me fly fishing, so he compromised and taught me to spin fish, which I loved with all my heart. He taught me how to sneak up on holes where the fish would be, cast my line and ever so slightly begin to reel it in and I was getting to be quite good. Well, except for the time I got too deep and nearly drowned when my waders filled up with water.

I at last made what I thought was a Big Girl Decision. I decided to not enroll for college in the Fall. Instead, I planned to buy new ski equipment, which I needed very badly. The moment TBR found out she called me screaming and yelling the same old rigamarole I'd heard before. The next thing I knew, she was at my front door with a U-Haul truck, telling me I was going to go to school in Midland at the local junior college. I never actually heard a question, as it was undoubtedly a command and I had not located the steel in my spine at that point. So with a heavy heart, I did as I was told, leaving my beautiful mountains and the man I knew I was falling in love with, behind. I don't know why, but I didn't question the fact that she wasn't even paying for my college. I had to work to do that myself. And yet, I was still under her mind control crap so I simply allowed myself to be led away like a sheep to slaughter.

By Thanksgiving Break, I had packed up my meager belongings and headed back to the Rocky Mountains home of my heart. Aspen. It would be several years before I returned to Midland or spoke to The Brown Recluse again.

To Be Continued...

Who Knew Our Son Was A Genius?

I don't often talk about my son, since he doesn't like it much. Not even if it is in the positive. However, today I am so happy and proud of this young man that I could just pop with pride. After all of his *problems* over the last 8 years and the dark dives he has taken into the unknown, he has finally conquered whatever demons he was fighting.

He's been clean and sober for almost two years, which is a wonderful thing. He has done that which many others have found impossible to do. However, today, he called me with the greatest news of all. He was accepted at St. Edward's University (Austin) for the Fall semester with 100% financial aid. At 25, he has finally started to mature and understand the highs and lows of life. He applied for school and financial aid all on his own and passed their tests.

I waited until we hung up from our conversation before I broke into tears of joy. He hates it when I cry. Typical man. It has been such a long, heart-breaking road with him, that it makes this victory just that much sweeter. At one point in time I thought my heart breaking over his addictions would surely kill me. It was painful as Hell but it did not kill me. Still, I hung in there for him, come what may. Thankfully, The Lord answered my prayers and we somehow got our son back.

So, getting back to the point... Today I'd like to salute my son for making such an amazing comeback from the Dark Side, but most of all for taking the entrance exams, filling out all the forms, and getting accepted at such a prestigious university. Without the help of us, his parents.

Snooty Son, you are amazing and smart and wonderful and I love you more than you could ever imagine. Your work ethic is the best I've seen and I know everyone you work with is crazy about you, because they've told me before. I know you will continue to grow as you pass each college semester and I have no doubts that you will continue on to law school, as you have planned. Believe me, I'll be beside you all the way. You are AWESOME!

You have your whole life ahead of you and for that I am thankful. I know that you'll make good use of your second chance at life.