During the summer months, Snowmass is transformed into an outdoor activity amusement park.
During the summer months, Snowmass is transformed into an outdoor activity amusement park.
We presume rest and recuperation are found on hammocks and palm tree beaches, but conversely, mental clarity may exist on a mountain peak, writes Tom Dillane
There is something about careening down a mountain at 2400m elevation, with no experience of the swerving off-road terrain and a sense you are exceeding the limits of your competency on a bike that is so stress free.
You think you’re on the cusp of crashing on the 45 degree embanked turns you’ve entered a little too fast and a soothing shot of adrenaline wipes away that nagging sense of an unsent email.
A bee lodges in your helmet beside your ear on the whistling final run down to Snowmass base camp and the sting it leaves is like the invigorating bump of encouragement when you get back a media response that secures a story.
The accumulating sweat beneath your plastic and mesh crash vest, melts that vague antagonism over a clash of opinions with a colleague a few days earlier.
You quickly jump in the gondola back up the top of the mountain, to get in another run so that you capitalise on the course while the spitting rain keeps the track optimally firm against the loose dusty surface that accumulates in the dry heat of July.
But you have to rush before the rain really sets in and turns that firmness into mud.
You only know this because Andy, your private instructor, informed you 5 minutes earlier as he judged you steady enough to progress from the beginner green course to blue intermediate after one run.
Your ego bump quickly dissipates as you see 8-year-olds doing the hardest black-colour runs, flying through the air amongst the Colorado blue spruce.
But the humility arrives with a smile as you wonder if those kids will ever get bored of it all: 10, 20, 30 years in the future.
The Snowmass bike park in Colorado has tracks for all experience levels.
Andy says he isn’t, two decades into his post-college trip to Colorado.
He talks of the bond he gradually makes with repeat clients. Attending their weddings and offering them an outlet for a kind of uber-wealthy existential aimlessness. In the winter he does the same thing - just on a snowboard.
After half an hour of continuous downhill mountain biking, your arms start to ache from gripping the handlebars too tight - apparently a common rookie habit.
That tense pain in your muscles is as comforting as the warm internal fuzz of your third drink on a Friday afternoon.
It all proves that quiet “relaxation” is often a fraud. It can magnify your anxieties - if you let it. And holidays are ripe for this trap.
I’d spent the morning going up chair lifts to look at stunning Rocky Mountain vistas. All I did was contemplate my remote place in the world, and the extent of recent small failures and unfulfilled ambitions. It was beautiful but there had been no release.
What I needed without realising it was an all-consuming physical intensity that leaves no space for thoughts outside of keeping your bike upright.
The location was Snowmass Ski Area surrounded by Elk Camp and the Lost Forest. It is a gondola ride up from the base village containing a quickly growing expanse of luxury apartment blocks. Among the prime North American ski destinations, and one of four mountains in and around Aspen Colorado, it is in the summer months transformed into an outdoor activity amusement park.
The Lost Forest contains a zipline, ropes courses, the Breathtaker Alpine Coaster, kilometres of hiking trails, a high-mountain fishing pond, disc golf, paintballing, and a climbing wall. A base ticket will cost you US$74 ($121) per day (ages 13-plus), or US$57 ($93) per day (12 and under).
That morning I had been strolling amongst the Colorado blue spruce, Douglas-fir and Rocky Mountain junipers. It was nothing if not tranquil.
But one of our group had signed up for a private downhill mountain bike session ahead of time, and the idea of that had grown on me all morning.
After lunch from a boutique buffet in which Veuve Clicquot were stacked in big tubs to grab with your brisket and assorted salads (among a million other options), I decided to take up the offer of a one-on-one bike lesson.
The private downhill bike lessons start at US$450. This will get you a three-hour lesson in the morning or afternoon but you can also get a full day lesson. The only requirements are that you’re over 8 years old and you know how to ride a bike. Bike rental is a further US$109.95 for a half day and US$134.95 for a full day.
It’s not cheap, but it would form an ideal foundation for a beginner wanting to get into mountain biking.
Andy was an engaging, relaxed guy who genuinely wanted to teach me the basics. There was no trace of it seeming routine or a chore to him - despite my session being tacked onto the end of his day. The other guide I spoke to seemed like an equally cheerful, enthusiastic guy.
Larger group downhill bike clinics starting at US$99 provide more affordable options. But lets face it, if you’re holidaying in Snowmass you’ve already signed up for a premium and pricey summer holiday destination.
Down in base village you get fitted for a bike suitable for your size and they’ll even do things like swap the front and rear tyre brakes from opposite sides of the handlebars to suit the convention where you’re from. In Australia, it’s the other way around to the US.
By the end of the lesson, I had a vague appreciation for why surfers never abandon the lifestyle.
Physically spent and mentally refreshed.
So much more peaceful than a stunning but sedentary view.
Tom Dillane is an Auckland-based journalist covering local government and crime as well as sports investigations. He joined the Herald in 2018 and is deputy head of news.
