Unvarnished Colorado : A local’s guide to glitz-free Breckenridge, an old mining town where the slopes are steep and the partying’s hearty

Last winter, as a ski bum living here, I paid $350 a month for a room in a dilapidated mobile home, subsisted on a daily diet of oatmeal and canned soup, and in my job as ski photographer, spent countless hours trying to convince tourists that family portraits taken during blinding snowstorms make fabulous Christmas cards.

Not surprisingly, when it came time this autumn to return to Breckenridge for another ski season, I balked. Sitting down with my journal, as I often do in fits of indecisiveness, I began writing the pros and cons of moving back to the mountains.

The cons came quickly. I wrote about the cold. I wrote about the expense. I recalled the day last December when I was testing my brand-new skis and broke my collarbone into three pieces.

Then my thoughts shifted, and I wrote about the sunrises I’d witnessed in Breckenridge, when the tips of the mountains looming over the sleeping town were stabbed with sharp, orange light. I wrote about Mountain Java, the cafe where my friends and I escaped snowstorms and our poorly heated homes. I wrote about walking home from the Gold Pan Bar late at night, reeling both from the night’s revelry and the vastness of the night sky awash with stars or snowflakes.

Before I’d filled two pages, before I’d even begun writing about skiing, I knew I would return.

Wedged between the sharp peaks of central Colorado’s Ten Mile Range and the streaked flanks of Bald Mountain, Breckenridge (or “Breck,” as locals call it) embraces returning ski bums and visitors alike with a genuineness and an amiability you don’t often encounter in other Colorado ski resorts. Breck’s 1,500 residents take fierce pride in the town’s historic past, in the beauty and accessibility of their rugged surroundings and in their reputations as tireless partyers. But more than anything else, Breckenridge prides itself on what it isn’t: namely, prefabricated and pretentious.

You only have to make the 30-minute drive northwest from Breckenridge to Vail for a quick lesson on what a prefab, made-to-order ski town looks like. Arriving in Colorado’s largest ski resort, you’re immediately struck by Vail’s resemblance to a giant, pseudo-Tirolean shopping mall, complete with concrete parking garages, elevated walkways and a clock tower.

Like Vail, Breckenridge lavishly caters to a diverse range of visitors. At their disposal are two sprawling slopeside resorts, several art galleries, horse-drawn carriage rides and an impressively equipped municipal recreation center, complete with a two-story-high indoor water slide. But Breck is not the progeny of the ski industry: Four decades ago, when Vail was a mere gleam in an ambitious developer’s eye, Breckenridge was celebrating its centennial as a hardened high-country mining town.

Even now, Victorian buildings line Breckenridge’s Main Street, and scattered throughout the town are unimproved mining sheds and burro barns, their wooden doors hanging open as if their original owners had left only yesterday to prospect elsewhere.

As for pretensions, Donald and Ivana have yet to bicker in a Breckenridge lift line, and you won’t find Oprah Winfrey bellying up to the bar at the Breckenridge Brewery. An absence of celebrities, however, isn’t the only reason Breck lacks the snobbishness of Aspen or Telluride. Many Breckenridge apartment and homeowners are still willing to rent to seasonal workers, and there are still enough lift operators, waiters and ski instructors living in Breckenridge to save it from feeling like a theme park for fur-swaddled Floridians.

For nearly 100 years after its founding in 1859, Breckenridge attracted fortune-seekers eager only to exploit what was inside the mountains, not on their slopes. Though Colorado’s largest gold nugget, “Tom’s Baby,” was discovered nearby, the town’s isolated location, high altitude (9,600 feet) and bitter climate kept steady prosperity at arm’s length.

Rebecca Waugh and Jennifer Kemp, members of the Summit County Historical Society, are determined to prevent Breck’s long and rollicking history from being smothered under snow and the dollars people pay to slide down it. Waugh and Kemp fiercely oppose developers hoping to replace Breckenridge’s burro barns with gleaming apartments, and they lead historic walking tours through town to introduce residents and visitors to Breck’s colorful and sometimes outrageous past.

Outrage, according to Kemp, is the very reaction of some tour-takers when they learn that turn-of-the-century miners in Breckenridge paid 25 cents for a bath in a Main Street boarding house, compared to five cents for a rendezvous with one of the prostitutes who lived on “Nickle Hill.”

My strongest reaction, however, was the nausea I felt upon being shown the several examples of “hair art” on the walls of the restored Briggle House, built in 1896. To pass the long, cold winters, Victorian housewives swapped swatches of human hair and used them to weave ornate, multihued wreaths.

When World War II broke out and the U.S. government halted all gold mining, Breck’s population plummeted and the remaining 250-or-so residents found themselves inhabiting a near-ghost town. Then, in the early ‘60s, a Kansas lumber company, encouraged by the success of other fledgling ski resorts, opened the first ski lift on Peak 8. (Early Breckenridge surveyors may have been adept at sniffing out gold, but they weren’t much for naming mountains.) Since then, the ski area has steadily grown to include Peak 9 and Peak 10, and last year, Breckenridge Ski Resort’s current owner, Ralston Resorts, opened Peak 7, a bald, steep hump open to expert skiers willing to traverse its face or hike to its summit.

Given the size of the Breckenridge ski area--at nearly 2,000 acres of skiable terrain, it’s one of Colorado’s largest--and its gradual, piecemeal development, it’s no surprise that skiers lose themselves among Breck’s 126 ski trails faster than they lose gloves on chairlifts. Herein lies the advantage of being a local.

The lifts that crisscross the canyon between Peaks 8 and 9 dumbfound skiers new to the mountain, leaving some of the choicest terrain to residents and experienced Breckenridge skiers. Fortunately, for $21 (plus a $42 lift ticket) a skier can take a three-hour tour with a Breckenridge Ski Resort guide and learn how to navigate the intricacies of the trail system.

Once you’ve found your bearings, however, you’ll find the skiing in Breckenridge rivals that of any North American resort. Though Breckenridge lift tickets and season passes are also valid at nearby Keystone Resort and Arapahoe Basin (all three ski areas are owned by Ralston Resorts), boredom rarely rears its ugly head at Breckenridge. Breck boasts more advanced-skier terrain than any other Rocky Mountain resort except Crested Butte; both resorts claim 57% of their slopes are tailored to experts.

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My first season at Breck, I skied every day but one or two and still hadn’t exhausted its possibilities. However, I did find some favorites: When I wanted to scream down long, groomed cruisers or float through powder-rich glades, I headed for Peak 10. I dropped into Peak 9 mogul runs such as “Inferno” and “Devil’s Crotch” when I wanted to exhaust my legs and frazzle my nerves. On Peak 8, I giddily partook of vertiginous, above-tree-line bowl-skiing or headed for Breckenridge’s newest pride and joy, Peak 7, where skiers hike up a long ridge to the summit and then throw themselves at the mercy of the gravity gods. Last winter, whenever weather allowed, there was a long line of skiers and snowboarders filing up the ridge line to the Peak 7 summit, like a phalanx of Gore-Tex-bedecked lemmings eager to leap to their doom.

Anybody who hikes uphill for an hour with his skis or snowboard over his shoulder so he can curdle his blood with a quick plummet through the powder wants to go somewhere later and boast about it. Breckenridge is well-equipped for base-of-the-mountain braggadocio.

At tony Cafe Alpine, which claims to be the first restaurant in Colorado to serve tapas (Spanish appetizers), skiers regale each other with mountain-top exploits while munching on blackened tuna sashimi and trout canapes; those craving more basic, carbo-heavy grub head for the burgers and pizzas at Downstairs at Eric’s, where locals follow an odd custom of drizzling their pizza crusts with honey.

Just down Main Street from Eric’s are some of my favorite watering holes: the Alligator Lounge, a basement-level blues joint; the Bar-B-Que, which serves an assortment of Colorado micro-brewery beers and platters of ribs and ‘slaw; and the Breckenridge Brewery, which serves a rich, amber ale called Avalanche, aptly named for the morning-after pounding it administers to your head if you imbibe one too many.

Several times over the winter, Breck craves a party too big for one bar to hold. In November, the town throws a “brewski tasting” street festival, during which participants taste micro-brews from around the country. In January, Breckenridge goes international with its Snow Sculpture Championships, in which teams of sculptors from around the world race the clock while fashioning intricate works of art from massive and gradually melting blocks of snow. The same month, there’s the notorious Ullr Fest--when the Norse god Ullr (say “OOHler”), responsible for creating snow, is appeased with a full day of parades, fireworks and wintry debauchery.

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If there’s one place in town that doesn’t need a special event to encourage debauchery, it’s the Gold Pan--the bar upon which Breckenridge’s night life is anchored. The Gold Pan isn’t the oldest bar west of the Mississippi, as some claim, but it’s old enough to know how to give your sensibilities a good whippin’ if you saunter in heedless to its long history as a serious drinking saloon. Built in 1881, the Gold Pan still features its original swinging doors, which were recessed off the sidewalk so inebriated miners wouldn’t knock down passersby when stumbling outside.

The Gold Pan was recently purchased by Reggie Grey, owner of the Adams Street Grill, a Main Street eatery known for its candle-lit gentility. Waugh, the historian who filled me in on the Gold Pan’s history, says that when the restaurateur bought the bar, everybody was worried he would “yuppify” it. “He did clean it up and remodel it,” says Waugh. “That lasted about a week.”

On any given night, the Gold Pan is full of young, hard-partying locals playing pool or listening to a local band thrashing it out by the front windows. Many of them sport the shaved heads, pierced facial features and baggy garb that have lent the sport of snowboarding a reputation as being a ski-town fashion show for the young and surly. Snowboarders are probably the most visible and fastest-growing segment of the Breckenridge ski-bum community.

But Breckenridge, which was one of the earliest ski areas in Colorado to welcome snowboarders to its slopes, is largely exempt from the much-publicized animosity between skiers and snowboarders (a.k.a. “shredders”).

Gordon Briner, Breckenridge’s director of ski operations, attributes the harmony on his mountain to Breck’s longstanding policy toward snowboarders: There is no policy. “We don’t have a ‘shred-iquette,’ ” says Briner. “We have rules for the mountain, and everybody, whether on snowboards, telemark skis or alpine skis, has to follow those guidelines.”

Nevertheless, something compels snowboarders to distinguish themselves physically from skiers. Last year one of my mobile-home roomies, Kyle Metzler, a recent graduate of Colgate University in New York state, had come to Breckenridge to teach skiing. Early in the season Kyle took up snowboarding and shaved his head. Then he let his hair grow out to a fuzz and bleached it until it glowed. Then he bleached his eyebrows.

Recently, when I met Kyle and his girlfriend Charity Brehl to go snowboarding (yes, I’m a snowboarder, but my eyebrows are still their natural color), Charity pulled me aside.

“Kyle’s in a bad mood,” Charity said. “Tell him he looks really jacked in his new clothes.”

Hey, snowboarders are sensitive guys, too.

Kyle and Charity also introduced me to another ‘boarder, Mike Buckley, who recently arrived in Breckenridge and who fits the profile of a classic, living-hand-to-mouth ski bum. Mike, 21, hasn’t found a place to live yet; for two weeks he’s been sleeping in the car he drove here from Iowa City.

“It’s a station wagon, so it’s not too bad,” says Mike, “even though I have to lie down to change my clothes. Of course it’s freezing cold, so I don’t want to take my pants off too often anyway.”

Though his living conditions might leave something to be desired, Mike couldn’t ask for a better workplace.

Soon after arriving in Breck, Mike landed a job at Mountain Java, where Breckenridge locals jump start their cold-numbed brains with elaborate elixirs, such as “Soul in a Bowl,” a mixture of espresso, Mexican chocolate and spices, and fuel their ski legs with huge, hot bagels. Mountain Java’s windows face the ski mountain; shelves filled with books, postcards and magazines surround its tables. By the front door is a bulletin board plastered with “skis for sale” and “need a place to live” notices.

In two years of nearly incessant traveling, I’ve come to regard Mountain Java as one of the closest places I have to a living room. I’ve also found that there is no better spot from which to watch the day turn to dusk. It’s a favorite ritual of mine to sit near the front windows, a mug of coffee before me, and catch the dying daylight smudge the rivers of snow streaming down the ski mountain with a faint shade of purple, while the lights of Breckenridge, the closest place I have to a hometown, blink on.

Somehow, I suspect my ski-bumming days are not over.

GUIDEBOOK

Best Bets in Breckenridge

Getting there: United and Markair fly nonstop from Los Angeles to Denver; restricted advance-purchase fares start at $108 round trip. Two services shuttle skiers to Breckenridge from Denver’s Stapleton Airport: Resort Express (telephone 800-334-7433) charges $71 per person round trip; Vans to Breckenridge (tel. 800-222-2112) charges $78-$84. The drive takes about two hours each way. Once in town, free shuttles run regularly in town and to the ski areas.

Where to stay: There are an estimated 23,000 rooms in Breckenridge; during the Christmas holidays and in March, when the town fills with students on spring break, nary a pillow goes unused.

The Beaver Run Resort (620 Village Road; tel. 800-525-2253) is located at the base of Peak 9; roll out of bed and onto the lift. Winter rates for a double room are $110-$225 per night.

The Fireside Inn (114 N. French St.; tel. 303-453-6456), another restored Victorian, is part bed-and-breakfast and part youth hostel. The Fireside offers four private rooms for $75 to $120 per night and dormitory lodgings for $25 nightly.

The Lodge at Breckenridge (112 Overlook Drive; tel. 800-736-1607) is situated on a bluff overlooking the town and the Ten Mile Range; its 45 rooms run $125-$230 per night, double. Amenities include a well-regarded restaurant, spa and free shuttle into town.

Williams’ House Bed and Breakfast (303 N. Main St.; tel. 800-795-2975), in a restored 1885 Victorian home, offers five rooms ranging from $95-$225 per night, double.

Where to eat: Cafe Alpine (106 E. Adams; local tel. 453-8218) has Asian- and Mediterranean-influenced entrees from $13-$19 and a tapas bar.$4

Locals traditionally do their pre-ski carbo-loading at the Blue Moose (540 S. Main St.; tel. 453-4859), where a stack of whole-grain pancakes is $4.

The Breckenridge Brewery (600 S. Main St.; tel. 453-1550) serves several varieties of fresh-brewed beer ($3 a pint) and salads and sandwiches from $6-$8.

Downstairs at Eric’s (111 S. Main St.; tel. 453-1401) offers burgers, pizzas, sandwiches and about 120 brands of beer.

The Gold Pan (105 N. Main St.; tel. 453-5499) serves pizza, subs and burgers for under $7 and has a full bar.

Mountain Java’s (118 S. Ridge St., tel. 453-1874). Coffee drinks are $1-$3.

Ski information: Breckenridge Ski Resort’s (800-789-7669 or 303-453-5000) ski lifts are located at three different areas: the base of Peak 8, the base of Beaver Run and at the Village of Breckenridge. A one-day adult lift ticket is $42. There are equipment rentals and ski schools at each area.

Local ski racers and hot-to-trot ski bums equip themselves at A Racer’s Edge (655 S. Park St., the Village at Breckenridge, base of Peak 9; tel. 453-0995), which rents boots, skis and poles for $15-$29 per day. The Underground Snowboard Outlet (326 S. Main St.; tel. 453-4491) rents snowboards and boots for $25 a day.

Special events: The Ullr Fest will be held in Breckenridge Jan. 9-15 (tel. 303-453-6018 for details); the Alamo Freestyle Classic ski races will be held Jan. 13-15 (tel. 303-453-5000); the International Snow Sculpture Competition is Jan. 24-30 (tel. 303-453-6018).

For more information: For air reservations, accommodations, car rentals and shuttle-service information, call the Breckenridge Resort Chamber at (800) 221-1091 or (800) 800-2732 or fax (303) 453-7238. Snow conditions: tel. (303) 453-6118. General Breckenridge information: tel. (303) 453-6018.

Tickets for Summit County Historical Society tours can be purchased at 309 N. Main St.; tel. 453-9022.