I lived in Jackson Hole for one season and it spoiled me for every other resort – until the new Deep Temerity lift recently opened at Aspen Highlands.
The long-awaited chair officially opened to a crowd of frothing-at-the-mouth locals Dec. 10 – some of whom got in line as early as 7 a.m. to be first on the lift. The 1,700-vertical-foot, fixed-grip triple chair doubles the length of most of the runs it accesses and adds a playful run out of untamed terrain filled with steeps, trees and gullies. It also eliminates the heinous traverse out of Highlands Bowl and ultimately bumps up Highlands a notch or two in the big-mountain resort category.
To me, what qualifies a mountain as “big” is unbearable leg burn and foot cramps from runs so long and varied that it kicks your butt. In Jackson, I would get to the bottom and promptly curl up in a little ball on the snow as the blood started to circulate like nails being driven through my numb feet. But it was worth it for pitch after pitch of total untracked perfection.
There’s no doubt that the hike up Highlands Bowl to the 12,395-foot summit is burly. The ridge is steep, windy and high. The 1,200-vertical-foot run down the face is steep and taxing. But what ruined it for me was the traverse out of there was so long and hairy, it was more challenging than the run itself. The only “big” thing about that traverse was that it was a big pain in the butt.
Now, with the new lift, you arrive at the Grand Traverse and keep going another 800 vertical feet into varied, double fall line terrain with plenty of fun, natural features still intact. There are people who have been navigating that traverse longer than I have, but still. There was almost this deviant sense of joy from crossing over that traverse and dropping in below it. The ski-area boundary was still there mentally. So it felt naughty, like when the cool babysitter let you stay up past bedtime when you were a kid.
Even though it’s still not Jackson, Highlands has its own unique character to offer the expert skier. I know that sounds like a PR one-liner, but I really mean it. The whole snowcat ride and high alpine ridge overlooking the Maroon Bells is a thrill in itself.
And there’s also the people: The really cool part of the story is Mac Smith, who has been the director of Ski Patrol at Aspen Highlands since 1979. A rancher’s son who grew up in Emma with more than 50 bucking horses his father trained for the rodeo, Smith is the last of a dying breed of true Colorado cowboy.
Smith was banned from Highlands for life at age 11 for tormenting ski school classes, but snuck back on the mountain when he was older and figured his looks had changed enough that he could slip by undetected. He showed me photos of himself at 19, getting face shots in the area that the new lift accesses today.
“I just went back there just to see if I could find where that spot was,” he said. “And I found it.”
Smith, 53, has been instrumental in opening most of Highlands’ famed double-diamond terrain since he became a patroller in the late 1970s, including Steeplechase (1977), Oly Bowl (1986), Temerity (1994) and the entire circumference of Highlands Bowl (completed in stages from 1997-2003). He was the guy on the bulldozer last summer, clearing out 45-degree slopes and herding his crew of patrollers who followed with chain saws and shovels the way they had done so many seasons before.
“Driving the bulldozer is the fun part for me,” Smith said. “That and standing at the bottom of the lift and listening to people as they come down, seeing the smiles on their faces when they get back in line. That’s all the thanks I need. It’s what keeps me going.”
It’s hard to believe a place such as Highlands even exists, for a number of reasons.
For one, let’s face it: Aspen’s reputation does not include soulful mountain men and cowboys who have been living the true-grit, ski-bum lifestyle here for decades.
Second, in an era when the ski-resort industry is dominated by corporate entities such as Intrawest, American Skiing Company and Vail Associates, it’s difficult to fathom that Aspen actually is a family-owned resort whose partners, such as Jim Crown, actually ski enough to appreciate Highlands’ potential.
And third, how many ski areas let Ski Patrol carve out new terrain, literally, with bulldozers and chain saws and shovels? They’re not even allowed to have facial hair over in Vail. Yet here in Aspen, some of our patrollers have beards down to their bellies because they probably haven’t shaved since they got here 30 years ago.
On opening day, they handed out bumper stickers that say, “Aspen Goes Deep: Day One Deep Temerity at Highlands.”
For a town that’s been trying to live down the stigma of being a playground for the rich and famous, I think “deep” is a great direction for Aspen to go.
Freelance columnist Alison Berkley can be reached at alison@berkleymedia.com.
