more than two decades of ski writing, ski teaching, and ski publishing by Lito Tejada-Flores
My friend, filmmaker Greg Poschman, sent me this vivid short rememberance of snowy things past, written by aspenite Joel Mills. I think you will enjoy reading these memories as much as I did. We all have a magic season. What was yours?
I had a set of those red wooden Kästles with long thongs. Everyone had a pass. I was on the ski team so I could get on the mountain as soon as lift One started running to ship the daily goods up to the sundeck.
I remember early mornings wrapped in those yellow canvas wraps with a blanket sewn inside riding up #1. The only sound audible was the chirp of the tower wheels. The sun would be sparkling off the fresh snow in the trees. Often I would be up there getting in one run before school. The snow was fantastic and came in record amounts, almost always at night, almost every night.
I skied so much that by early spring I had worn out those skies with the Olympic rings logo just back of the tips. I had bought them from Spider at Aspen Sports just before Thanksgiving for $85. That was a lot of money in those days. I had spent most of the summer mowing lawns for Mason & Morse to pay for them.They were the first really good set of skies I had; and to this day they were my favorites. When I took them into Spider that early Spring all the camber was gone. He flexed them, then looked at me, smiled and gave me a new set. He didn't even charge me for swapping the bindings.
Aspen moments, Where are the snows of yesteryear?
All photos by Robert Chamberlain
The next morning I was up on the mountain with a grin from ear to ear. That winter was as good as skiing ever got. That winter was really special. That was as good as Aspen ever got. The town was really special then. Not too many people get to experience anything so wonderful in all ways.
We did. And we will never forget it. There are only a handful of people living in Aspen now that have a clue of how good the winter of '65 was. They are probably secretly hoping that magic will return; it won't.