The woman in the bookshop is adamant. “If you guys don’t find something more interesting to talk about, you can leave.”
To begin with, the men in the expensive polo necks and zip- up fleeces don’t realise that the instruction is directed at them. So, barely pausing for breath, they plough on deeper into their chosen topic: stock options, with a special emphasis on profit-to-earnings ratios. They’re Americans, and like so many of their countrymen, they seem to have faulty volume controls in their voice boxes. They’re sharing their conver- sation with the whole room.
“GUYS!” This time, they stop and look up, to be met by the steady gaze of the middle-aged woman standing behind the counter. “You’re boring me,” she tells them. “Go outside.”
For one brief, electric moment, a look of utter darkness flickers across the men’s faces. The last time someone spoke to them like this, they probably sacked them on the spot. But then, suddenly, they start laughing. They’ve remembered where they are. This is Telluride, the cutest ski town in North America. Small bookshops with countercultural owners are exactly the kind of thing they’ve come to enjoy. They make unexpectedly gracious apologies and leave.
A little more than a century ago, such confrontations would have been altogether more dramatic. Back then, there was gold in them thar hills — silver, too — and every Hollywood cliché seems to have had a home here. Parsons held services in saloons, brothel-keepers called themselves Jew Fanny and Diamond Tooth Leona, and disagreements were often settled with six-shooters.
These days, everything is much more civilised, thanks to a process of gentrification that began when the Woodstock generation rolled into town in the early 1970s. They weren’t especially welcome: Telluride’s marshal, Everett Morrow, was fond of walking up and down Main Street with a stetson on his head and a revolver hanging from his belt, telling selected hippies that they had “till noon tomorrow to get out of my town”. In the end, it was Morrow who was forced out, and when the first ski lifts were put up in the same decade, Telluride’s future was set on a new course.
Now, 30 years down the line, you’d be hard pressed to find a town anywhere in the USA that better expresses the aspirations of polite, educated Americans: outdoorsy, liberal, informed, connected, its streets lined with Wild West buildings and dotted with brewpubs, bookstores and locally run internet cafes.
Wander out of the Steaming Bean Coffee Co on a sunny morning, carrying a big, fat, creamy latte, glance up at the stunning cirque of mountains that sits at the end of the street and you’d be forgiven for thinking you were in paradise.
Therein lies Telluride’s problem. The word is out now, and everybody wants a piece of the action. Flick through the pages of its promotional magazines, and Kenny Rogers lookalikes will beam back at you from 20 real-estate advertisements, offering faux-folksy five-bedroom cabins at £5m a pop. Cruise the streets and you’ll see more antiques shops and art galleries than a town 10 times Telluride’s size has a right to. Yes, the locals still go out on full-moon nights to cruise the long road down to Montrose on skateboards. Yes, Telluride’s celebrity denizens — Tom Cruise, Val Kilmer, Stormin’ Norman Schwarzkopf — have vowed to fight any further large-scale development. But many of the hippies have already sold up and moved to cheaper, outlying settlements. The days of freewheeling, laid-back, happy-go-lucky Telluride are numbered, and everybody knows it. It’s no wonder that bookstore-owners get a little antsy now and again.
IS IT still worth a trip? Unreservedly, yes. In most ski towns, whether they’re in the Rockies or the Alps, you wouldn’t give a damn about local politics, and it’s a wonderfully refreshing experience to find a place that has enough charm and character to make you care.
The skiing is pretty good, too. The mountains hereabouts are called the San Juans, and they offer a much more breathtaking environment than the terrain elsewhere in Colorado. The steep stuff here is really steep, and, thanks to the opening of three new lifts in the Prospect Bowl last January, there is more of it than ever. There’s already lots of snow: the whole of Colorado has had a cracking start to the winter, and Telluride is no exception, reporting 6ft so far.
The long-range forecast is also promising. This is an El Niño year, and southern Colorado may well be blessed with above-average snowfall right through the season. This could be the perfect time for a visit.
Even if it doesn’t snow during your stay, there are some fine groomed runs to be skied, ranging from exceptionally long and forgiving beginner’s trails, through rip-roaring inter- mediate cruisers, all the way to what must be one of the finest groomed expert runs on the planet — Bushwacker. Despite the growing pressure on real- estate prices down in the valley, in skiing terms this is a criminally underused resort, and you may find yourself creaming down some pistes on your own — a total contrast to the mayhem of the Alps.
The only problem with Telluride’s ski area is its overall extent. Rocky Mountain highs are best planned on a 10-day, rather than one-week, basis, to allow time to adjust to jet lag and altitude; and even with the addition of Prospect Bowl, there still isn’t enough here to keep you busy for a whole trip’s worth of hard skiing, unless it dumps heavily on at least two days. You could get round this by twinning the town with another ski area elsewhere in the state: Crested Butte is closest, but Aspen is a more mouthwatering alternative.
Powder hounds will also want to visit nearby Silverton, (00 1 970 387 5706, www.silvertonmountain.com), a new, one-lift, back-country area where the number of lift tickets is restricted to 40 a day.
Or you could just take your foot off the accelerator and relax a little. Buy a six-day pass instead of a 9- or 10-day one. Go snowshoeing, horse-riding or dog-sledding, or spend a day soaking in the excellent Golden Door Spa at the Wyndham Peaks Resort (00 1 970 728 2590, www.thepeaksresort.com). Or hang out and chat with the locals. Just remember, if you do, to keep the discussion off economics.
Sean Newsom travelled to Telluride as a guest of Ski Independence
TRAVEL BRIEF
Tour operators: Telluride is the perfect destination for couples, and the Camel’s Garden is one of the world’s most romantic ski hotels: it’s also low-key, luxurious and next door to the lifts. Ten nights with Ski Independence (0870 555 0555, www.ski-independence.co.uk), departing on February 1, start at £1,749pp, B&B, with flights from Heathrow or Manchester to Montrose, via Chicago and Denver, and transfers (90 minutes by minibus from Denver). Regional add-on flights from Belfast, Leeds/Bradford and other airports start at £40pp.
Just two blocks away is the New Sheridan Hotel, on Main Street, the heart of old Telluride. It’s a splendidly characterful place to stay: try to get one of the Alpine rooms at the front. Ten nights, departing on February 1, cost £1,347pp, B&B, also with Ski Independence. Other operators include Skiworld (0870 241 6723, www.skiworld.ltd.uk), which has budget self-catering accommodation in town (from £859pp for 10 days, departing on February 1); Ski All America (0870 167 6676); and Ski Safari (01273 223680). Ask for details of regional and Dublin departures, and discounted lift passes, when you book.
LINK
www.telski.com
An excellent, user-friendly site
