VAIL — There were no lapel pins commemorating the arson, no free cocoa or cupcakes. Those they save for the feel-good moments, complete with ceremonial ribbon-cuttings and congratulatory pats on the back for a job well done a decade ago.
But 10 years after the opening of Vail’s Blue Sky Basin, the infamous Oct. 19, 1998, act of eco-terrorism ultimately tied to the ambitious 885-acre expansion of Colorado’s largest ski area remains the real story. Last Wednesday’s celebration of skiing in the basin since Jan. 6, 2000 — complete with cocoa and cake — was merely window dressing.
Some described the $12 million arson of Vail’s 33,000-square foot Two Elks Lodge and four chairlifts attributed to now convicted members of the radical Earth Liberation Front “in the name of the (Canada) lynx” as a loss of innocence for a small town still coming to terms with the realities of corporate control of the local ski property. In reality, the moment served more as a coming of age for a community galvanized not by any company, but by the mountain that brought almost all of them there originally.
And the resolute determination to rebuild the lodge and lifts along with the $14 million expansion in less than 15 months said more about the locals’ love for their mountain than any bottom line.
It’s a funny thing about corporations, be they in the business of skiing or something else. As evidenced by the cast of dignitaries celebrating the first decade of Blue Sky Basin, the players are ultimately replaceable. It’s the product alone that matters.
As gauche as that term may be in describing a ski mountain, it can’t undermine the personal, even intimate, relationship Vail skiers have with their home hill. Whether it’s a favorite run, fond memory or cherished secret, there’s almost always a captivating connection of some sort that supersedes the corporate culture. And it was the threat of losing that at the hands of outsiders that eventually made it obvious to everyone there.
That just may be the real reason why Blue Sky Basin works so well. For those of us who weren’t around when Vail founders Pete Seibert and Earl Eaton first discovered the ski mecca, the expansion bowls that bear their names still allow us to experience that sense of discovery, to get just a little lost in the vastness of the wooded mountain terrain and safely immerse ourselves in “adventure skiing.”
“It’s going to be a whole new experience: different types of snow, different types of terrain and a feeling that you just can’t ski this place in a week’s vacation — or even a month’s vacation,” former Vail Resorts senior vice president Paul Testwuide told me 10 years ago. “For some people, it may take a lifetime. There’s always going to be powder stashes everywhere. That’s going to be the real fun of Blue Sky Basin.”
A decade later, Testwuide’s predictions still hold true, even if the company’s campaign promises of early-season bowl skiing in Blue Sky appear long forgotten since U.S. Forest Service approval. Locals and visitors flock to Vail Mountain’s highest point at 11,480 feet to take in views of the Gore, Sawatch, Flat Top and 10-Mile mountain ranges. Snow stacks up deeper than anywhere else inside the boundaries and is preserved longer on the north-facing slopes. Groomed intermediate runs mix easily with short expert steeps, offering skiing options for almost everyone.
And what about those Canada lynx? Well, they remain as endangered as the eco-terrorists sworn to protect them, and despite a decade of statewide reintroduction efforts, just about as elusive.
It’s impossible to guess what another decade might hold for the future of Vail, its resort and Blue Sky Basin. By definition, a corporation is designed to grow, be it through expansion, improved amenities or acquisitions. The players are likely to once again be replaced by then, but with any luck the community will recall the lessons of October 1998 and respond accordingly. It’s a resort town, after all, and impossible to separate one from the other.
When it’s all said and done, the best you can hope for is some cocoa and a cupcake — and that the skiing will still be good.
