In the fall of 1984, single and new to Denver, I showed up at a Schussbaumer Ski Club meeting in the basement of the Zang Brewing Co.
Other memories of 1984 have faded mercifully into oblivion, but I remember what I was wearing (a pink-and- white angora sweater) and this one guy who kept following me around. Do you play volleyball? Um, no. You want to learn? Not really. Can I get you a beer? Sorry, I don’t like beer.
I didn’t know anybody in Colorado. I had moved here on a whim. I had no job. But I had every intention of skiing that winter, and the Schuss- baumers sounded like the best deal in town: Pay a flat fee, pass muster with the membership committee and get a key to the chalet in Breckenridge.
It’s still the best thing going, and not just because it’s cheap lodging. The Schussbaumers are a singles club, although allowances are now made for a small number of married members. The chalet sleeps 72; it costs $585 a year to join.
They’ve been around since 1952. In the early 1960s, when the Breckenridge ski resort was just getting underway, its developers offered land to the club, whose Georgetown digs had been condemned to make way for Interstate 70.
The chalet stands on a valuable piece of property at the corner of Ski Hill and Saw Mill roads, right in the middle of Breckenridge. Walk a few blocks and you’re on Main Street. Or cross the street and hop the free shuttle up the hill to Peak 8.
Built-in companionship
Being at the Schussbaumer chalet, either as a member or a guest, gives you a built-in set of pals. There’s always somebody sitting at the bar Friday night, arranging carpools bright and early to Vail or A-Basin. There’s always somebody to have a beer with, to grab some dinner with, to show you how to sharpen your edges.
Volleyball Man persevered. He got my number. He picked me up in his AMC Eagle. We drove to Breckenridge. We went skiing at Copper. We got married, we had two kids. That’s a common Schussbaumer story.
That lodge in Breckenridge, and the people who hung out there, were the centerpiece of our social lives for about 10 years.
There were weddings, so many weddings – big, fancy church weddings, funky low- budget weddings and hilarious on-mountain weddings. Some marriages survived, others didn’t. We saw Botanic Gardens concerts and Warren Miller movies together, skied Aspen and Steamboat together, biked over Vail Pass and up to the Maroon Bells together. I did so many things I never would have tried otherwise: bought my first bike since third grade. Did Ride the Rockies. Signed up for the ski racing team. I stunk, but they needed girls. Played volleyball in Washington Park.
And so many powder days, frosty-white Breckenridge mornings spent making turns instead of sitting on I-70. That was the best part of all.
Accommodations at the chalet run more to hostel than Hyatt. Men and women sleep on separate floors, four bunks to a room. On busy ski weekends, you’ll wait in line for a shower and a spot at the mirror, and everybody knows everyone else’s sleeping habits, sometimes a little too well.
Old-timers will remember the year that some people with too much time on their hands decided to annotate the Polaroid pictures of members on a wall in the living room. They strung yarn to indicate hookups. It took a lot of yarn.
Earning your keep
In return for access to the chalet, you shell out not only cash but sweat equity. You pick up after yourself, wash your own dishes and do chores every weekend you stay there. At summer work parties, I painted bathrooms, shampooed carpet, hauled firewood and cleaned the fridge.
At the luau one year I learned how to devein shrimp while drinking planter’s punch. At Christmas dinner, I learned how to turn a fallen cake into a dessert that people will rave about and how to make turkey and prime rib for 100 people.
One memorable New Year’s Eve, the water pump broke and a dedicated cadre of people spent New Year’s Day melting snow on the stove to flush the toilets.
It’s not for everybody. I remember the president of the club started dating a woman whose lodging requirements were definitely at the Hyatt end of the scale. She not only monopolized his time to a degree his friends found insulting, she flat refused to stay at the chalet. I don’t think she liked us.
A bunch of us mounted a charm offensive, hoping to change her mind. We got her to show up for the Christmas party. She walked onto the women’s floor to use the bathroom and nearly fainted. “I can’t believe you stay here,” she told us.
We who scrubbed that bathroom and painted the dorm walls were mortified and hurt. It may have been a dump but it was our dump. We waited for her fella to come to his senses. He eventually did.
And the bathrooms got remodeled in 1997. I hear they’re nicer now.
Lisa Everitt is a freelance writer who lives in Arvada. Contact her at lisaeveritt@comcast.net.
The details
Information about the Schussbaumer Ski Club is at schussbaumer.org or 303-355-6466. The chalet is at 101 Ski Hill Road, Breckenridge. Guests pay $25 per night. Full active membership costs $585 per year. The complete list of rules is on the website.
Social meetings are held in Denver to introduce prospective members to the club. The next social meeting is at 6 p.m. Thursday at the Blake Street Tavern, 2401 Blake St., Denver.
