Aspen When It's Hot

For Some, the aim of a summer vacation in the great outdoors is the experience itself. If you go rock-climbing or river rafting, the price you're supposed to pay is beans on a tin plate or a hard night in a sleeping bag on the ground. But for others--count me among them--the destination is just as important as the journey. If I've been out wrestling mother nature all day, someone else can set up the bivouac; I'll take a couple of mesquite-grilled lamb chops, a bottle of California cabernet and a nice new condo with a hot tub in the living room. That's my idea of a destination.

There's a place out West that has that kind of summer vacation figured out. It's the winter ski mecca, Aspen, Colorado. Yes, Aspen, capital of glitz, snow and movie stars in stretch pants. But--surprise!--this small town of 8000 year-round residents, nearly 8000 feet above sea level, has a secret it is parting with reluctantly: You may come for the winters, but you stay for the summers. Because it's in the grassy months that you actually see the colors and hues of the gorgeous terrain; nor does access to that terrain require bindings, tickets, lines or lessons. It requires only that you choose something and do it: hike, canter, climb, raft, fish, golf, jog, lob, soar, paddle, swim or loaf. And then, having done, you may dine, sip, shop, soak, browse, stargaze, applaud, luxuriate.

Aspen in the summer is the perfectly balanced leisure experience for the upwardly mobile. You can revel in the wildflowers and huff and puff to your heart's content--and do it just minutes from a collection of trendy restaurants and glittery shops worthy of a major city. A morning hike up a mountain trail to the utter stillness of the lake at the foot of the Maroon Bells may be followed by lunch at Gordon's, arguably the best restaurant between Chicago and Los Angeles. An early-morning horseback ride up a twisting copper trail may be followed by lunch at Gordon's, arguably the best restaurant between Chicago and Los Angeles. An early-morning horseback ride up a twisting copper trail may be followed by cappuccino and fresh croissants at Pour La France, where the pastry would hold its own with that of a café on the Boulevard St. Michel. Are you beginning to get the drift?

Another aspect of Aspen appealing to the discerning summer sybarite is its political sensibilities. Think of most of the beautiful places where rich people go to play. Do the words Republican and WASP spring to mind? Palm Springs names streets after Bob Hope and Frank Sinatra. Newport is full of Top-Siders and matrons who send their money out to be dry-cleaned. Las Vegas hasn't seen a natural-fiber garment in years. Santa Barbara is populated by unindicted Cabinet members. Where's a nice liberal boy or girl with disposable income going to have fun? Aspen's the place. It's where Democrats from Hollywood and New York can drive their fully loaded Jeep Grand Wagoneers to Little Cliff's Bakery for doughnuts in the morning. It's where Goldie Hawn and Kurt Russell call home. It's where Don Johnson met Barbra Streisand. It's where Gary Hart met his Waterloo.

Another seasonal secret is that although Aspen happily caters to the incredibly rich and the stop-and-stare famous, you don't have to be in either category to enjoy the place, especially in the summer. The tourist board may not like the word, but summertime is...discount time in the Rockies. Two thirds of all visitors to the Rockies come in the summer--surprise again, ski fans. But until recently, many have been adventurers driving Winnebagos. Now the pleasures of mountain resorts such as Aspen are being discovered by people who prefer condos to campers, and who like paying half the winter rate for luxury lodgings.

The notion that the pleasures of the great outdoors can be combined with more indoor, civilized pastimes is not new in these parts. Miners who flocked to Aspen in the 1880s to pickax silver out of the mountains used some of their grubstake to erect the Wheeler Opera House--which is still standing and doing standing-room business. After the silver ran out, the town faded but got a rebirth after World War Two, when Chicago industrialist Walter Paepcke decided it was the perfect place to create a retreat for business types who could gather among the pines, hold conferences and solve the world's problems. The New Age began early in Aspen. That's why the town now hosts the Aspen Institute for Humanistic Studies, a prestigious summer camp (continued on page 151)Aspen When It's Hot(continued from page114) for intellectuals, dedicated by Albert Schweitzer, as well as about a festival a week between June and September. Name a topic--food and wine, llamas, ballet, music, hot-air balloons, photography, arts and crafts, saving wildlife--and Aspen probably has a festival for it.

Aspen's range of choices makes it easy to find something for most tastes--unless you find variety stressful. That's the reason the locals think it's better when the weather's warm: In the winter, it's ski or shop. In the summer, it's, well, just about anything that goes with gorgeous scenery. And there's no dearth of entrepreneurs to help you make the pick: professional outfitters with whimsical names ranging from Blazing Paddles (rafts and kayaks) to Blazing Pedals (mountain bikes) to Blazing Trails (back-country jeep tours). The list of things to do is endless, so, rather than natter on like a waiter at one of Aspen's tony restaurants, let me offer a few of my favorite topics and observations--personal and, no doubt, eccentric--culled from summer visits over the past few years.

1. Nobody's fat in Aspen.

Title of a song, and too, too true. Nowhere have I seen a fitter, better-looking group of human beings. Most seem to be blond, and you see one beautiful body after another jogging along the mountain trails. The sun, the clean air, the sweat on those taut thighs produce so much sexual energy that if it could be bottled, the publisher of this magazine would have to find another business.

2. Everybody should be fat in Aspen.

If everyone ate as well as he could, that is. Exhibit A: At Gordon's, the chef arranges to have his herbs and lettuce grown in a special greenhouse down Roaring Fork Valley--God forbid they should wilt on the flight in from L.A. The menu is wildly eclectic--Kick Ass Swordfish is a signature dish (it's cooked with tequila)--and exotic seasonings show up in unexpected places, such as on your duck confit. Save room for dessert, too. It's prepared by Gordon's wife, Rebecca, and her Heath Bar cake can induce sweetness trauma.

If Gordon's is booked, starvation does not automatically follow. Aspen has about 80 restaurants. Try the new Pinons, the casual Grill on the Park, Abetone or Poppies Bistro. About ten miles away, in the sister village of Snowmass, Chez Grandmère and Krabloonik are worth a special trip. Best Aspen dining story of 1988 (so far): A rich New Yorker likes Aspen so much that he recently persuaded the owner of his favorite Manhattan restaurant to open a branch in Aspen so he shouldn't be without during vacation. That's why there's a Mezzaluna in Aspen--not the best restaurant in town, but the pasta and the pizza are fine. Can Spago and Lutèce clones be far behind?

3. Shop till you drop.

I know that sounds unreasonable, but I'd rather shop in Aspen than in either New York or Los Angeles. OK, there are only 16 art galleries, plus three crafts stores, nine jewelers and three stores carrying nothing but clothes for children. But you can also pick up moose-antler chandeliers and kayaks. You want a white ski suit with leopard-print inserts and a matching handbag for your girlfriend? Head for the Stefan Kaelin ski shop and take your Platinum card. Not only is the selection of goods around town impeccable but you don't have to contend with rude salesclerks, buzzers on the doors, steel grates on the windows and other charming features of shopping on Madison Avenue. Prices are high, but so is the quality. And in summer, the good stuff is often on sale.

4. So you're a country-club kind of guy?

Try The Snowmass Club in the summer. Picture yourself in a lounge chair beside a pool. A golden-haired teenager in tight tennis shorts and a tank top is peering at you through her regulation-issue Vuarnets, waiting to take your order. You blank out momentarily from oxygen deprivation. When you come to, you're staring out across the golf course to the snow-capped spire of Mount Daly. Your piña colada arrives, and you decide that you must call Continental Express airways and move your flight back to next Tuesday, or next October.

During the summer, The Snowmass Club is my favorite place to stay in Aspen (actually, it's in Snowmass). The food has had its tips and downs, but everything else is exceedingly pleasant--not what you'd expect from a mountain spa. There are 13 tennis courts, a golf course and a sort of Ralph-Lauren-goes-skiing decor that's soothing.

It's far from the only place to stay in the area. Some prefer Aspen itself, and the downtown place to beat is the Hotel Jerome, a cowboy version of New York's Plaza hotel, renovated last year (for about a zillion dollars) to a state of unabashed Victorian splendor. The Sardy House is Aspen's idea of a simple bed-and-breakfast inn, while the Aspen Ski Lodge has a touch of Eurostyle in the Rockies. The Snowflake Inn has gentler prices, plus the requisite pool and hot tub. Again, the fact that summer rates are in effect adds a lot to their allure.

5. Rocky Mountain high notes.

The Aspen Music Festival is now in its 40th year, and it's as good as they come. This distinguished festival and associated music school bring a swarm of top-notch performers and students to town for nine weeks every summer. Sitting under the big white tent on a summer's afternoon while The Aspen Festival Orchestra has a go at Beethoven or Dvou+0159àk is pure pleasure. Every day, the streets are filled with student soloists, impromptu brass trios and string quartets. Restaurants invite them in to play for dinner guests. Favorite moment: Last year, I was sitting under the tent on a July afternoon. Conductor Kenneth Jean was about to cue the orchestra for the opening bars of Earl Kim's Where Grief Slumbers, a song cycle set to poems by Rimbaud and Apollinaire. The opening words of the first song were "Listen to it rain," and as the soprano sang the first note--you guessed it--a brief, furious downpour. Every eye lifted heavenward. Magic.

6. Leavin' on a jet plane....

Sardy Field, Aspen's local airstrip, is barely bigger than the deck of an aircraft carrier, but on busy days, it seems to have more take-offs and landings than O'Hare.

Lots of those planes are making regularly scheduled hops from Denver, but plenty more are the private Learjets and Gulf-streams of the ultrawealthy. They are the toys that really separate the men from the boys, and just watching their steeply angled take-offs over the valley provides a vicarious rush of adrenaline. Look for the custom paint jobs, which mean that the jets are privately owned, not merely rented. Last year, a wealthy retailing titan landed his private 727 at Sardy Field. It was the biggest plane ever to touch down there. The owner and his friend got off, checked on the progress of the 20,000-square-foot house they're building in town, had lunch and flew out again that afternoon. Roger.

7. No movie-star-home maps available. Yet.

Red Mountain, a smooth, treeless slope on the side of the valley opposite the ski lifts on Aspen Mountain, is as warm with 8000-square-foot chalets that sell for a cool $6,000,000 or so. (One local real estate guide divides its listings between those that sell for more than and those that sell for less than $1,000,000.) Leon Uris, Barbi Benton, Jack Nicholson, Glenn Frey, Goldie Hawn, not to mention the fell with the guitar, Mr. Rocky Mountain High himself, all have homes there. Also Rupert Murdoch. Didn't we mention that this was a progressive town? Why isn't Murdoch in Palm Springs, where he belongs? Is something happening? Watch your local tabloid for signs of taste.

8. The cops drive Saabs in Aspen.

Yes, cute white ones with flashing lights on top. The handsome, invariably mustachioed local gendarmes stroll around town in the summer in jeans, cowboy boots and baseball caps. Cool or what?

9. The hike to the Maroon Bells.

Aspen sits at the head of the Roaring Fork Valley, and just to the south are some of the tallest mountains in Colorado, peaks that top out at more than 14,000 feet. The best-known local spires are the triple summits of the Maroon Bells. Their raw, exposed faces of crumbly rock soar nearly straight up from the surrounding meadows. These peaks form the backdrop for those cereal ads with John Denver and for countless other commercials.

A hike from the parking lot at the top of Maroon Creek Road to Crater Lake, at the foot of the Bells, will take about an hour, and you should start early in the morning. When you get to the lake, set out a picnic. If you and your companion happen to be city folks, the little creatures who join you on the blanket may look like mice, but they're not. They're chipmunks, they live there and they like you. It's all too cute for words, but it happens to be real. Now take out that bottle of Moët et Chandon, pour it into the two glasses you stuffed into your knapsack and drink a toast to Aspen in the summer. There's nothing quite like it.