Winter Park
The 9,ooo-foot-high valley bounded by the Continental Divide and the Vasquez Mountains and threaded by the Fraser River has been called many things over the years: "Little Switzerland," "Somewhere Between Purgatory and Heaven," and "The Icebox of the Nation" (the local record for freezing temps is minus 65 degrees Fahrenheit). But don't let that-or the Mini Cooper-size moguls on Mary Jane Mountain-scare you off: Winter Park is one of the most unpretentious, laid-back, and oldest ski towns in the entire state. And it's only 67 miles from Denver.
Way back when, the area was seething with bear, bison, antelope, and elk, attracting French trappers and Native American tribes, from the Utes to the Sioux, the Blackfeet to the Arapahos. Their legacy? The nearby Indian Peaks Wilderness, which is topped by summits honoring Navajo, Apache, Shoshoni, and Pawnee. It wasn't until the 1860's-when survey parties arrived in the valley, searching for the shortest possible railroad route over or through the Divide-that development began (albeit slowly) in the form of a horse trail over Berthoud Pass, south of today's Winter Park, and a few ranching and lumber operations. The first stagecoach from Georgetown to Hot Sulphur Springs scaled the pass in 1874, but it took decades before railroad tracks were laid.
And that only happened thanks to one visionary. Down in Denver, David H. Moffat- who started as a Woolworth's clerk, worked his way up to owning gold mines and heading banks, and became the richest man in Colorado-had a yen to build tracks over the Divide. Construction started in April 1903; by June 1905, the route reached Hot Sulphur Springs, with 33 tunnels, countless bridges, and a 4 percent grade in places. Trains were sometimes delayed by avalanches or storms for weeks. Winter Park (then still called Middle Park, or Old Park) remained an island in the sky.
Everything changed for the Fraser Valley in 1927, when crews completed the Moffat tunnel (Moffat himself died in 1911, his fortune depleted), a 6.2-mile, $15.5 million passage that cut through 15,000 feet of bad rock and cost 19 lives-and took the place of 33 miles of track above. The previous route from the east portal to the west took five hours at best; the tunnel took 12 minutes, no matter what. Soon, the towns of Fraser and Tabernash sprang up.
At around the same time, the City of Denver was deeded about 90 acres for a mountain park; a ski area officially opened in 1940, with three runs and two jumps. The Mary Jane Trail-which followed an old sheep path-was cleared, and a ski legend was born: Not only did it become synonymous with bone-rattling moguls, but it was also named after the Mary Jane placer gold claim, which in turn was named after a lady of ill repute. Shortly after, a small community known as Hideaway Park developed around a gas station, motel, and restaurant on US 40.
Since then, Hideaway Park has turned into Winter Park, and has slowly grown-the ski area has expanded over to Parsenn Bowl and Vasquez Ridge and now encompasses 2,770 acres, and the town has accumulated a few swanky hotels, a sushi joint, a covered parking garage, and some new condo complexes. It still retains the most rustic, sometimes run-down, always friendly vibe. But, as locals will tell you, the town is truly at a crossroads: In late 2002, the City of Denver struck a deal with ski-resort developer Intrawest (think Whistler, Mammoth, Stratton, Copper), which promised to invest $50 million in on-mountain improvements-including a pond for ice skating, 500-plus housing units, a glass observation area for nonskiers to watch skiers, and even a possible widening of the Fraser River. The question remains: Will The Man end up changing WP's low-key, fleece-and-Carhartt vibe? Or just make a good thing better? Stay tuned. In the meantime, the bumps beckon.
Way back when, the area was seething with bear, bison, antelope, and elk, attracting French trappers and Native American tribes, from the Utes to the Sioux, the Blackfeet to the Arapahos. Their legacy? The nearby Indian Peaks Wilderness, which is topped by summits honoring Navajo, Apache, Shoshoni, and Pawnee. It wasn't until the 1860's-when survey parties arrived in the valley, searching for the shortest possible railroad route over or through the Divide-that development began (albeit slowly) in the form of a horse trail over Berthoud Pass, south of today's Winter Park, and a few ranching and lumber operations. The first stagecoach from Georgetown to Hot Sulphur Springs scaled the pass in 1874, but it took decades before railroad tracks were laid.
And that only happened thanks to one visionary. Down in Denver, David H. Moffat- who started as a Woolworth's clerk, worked his way up to owning gold mines and heading banks, and became the richest man in Colorado-had a yen to build tracks over the Divide. Construction started in April 1903; by June 1905, the route reached Hot Sulphur Springs, with 33 tunnels, countless bridges, and a 4 percent grade in places. Trains were sometimes delayed by avalanches or storms for weeks. Winter Park (then still called Middle Park, or Old Park) remained an island in the sky.
Everything changed for the Fraser Valley in 1927, when crews completed the Moffat tunnel (Moffat himself died in 1911, his fortune depleted), a 6.2-mile, $15.5 million passage that cut through 15,000 feet of bad rock and cost 19 lives-and took the place of 33 miles of track above. The previous route from the east portal to the west took five hours at best; the tunnel took 12 minutes, no matter what. Soon, the towns of Fraser and Tabernash sprang up.
At around the same time, the City of Denver was deeded about 90 acres for a mountain park; a ski area officially opened in 1940, with three runs and two jumps. The Mary Jane Trail-which followed an old sheep path-was cleared, and a ski legend was born: Not only did it become synonymous with bone-rattling moguls, but it was also named after the Mary Jane placer gold claim, which in turn was named after a lady of ill repute. Shortly after, a small community known as Hideaway Park developed around a gas station, motel, and restaurant on US 40.
Since then, Hideaway Park has turned into Winter Park, and has slowly grown-the ski area has expanded over to Parsenn Bowl and Vasquez Ridge and now encompasses 2,770 acres, and the town has accumulated a few swanky hotels, a sushi joint, a covered parking garage, and some new condo complexes. It still retains the most rustic, sometimes run-down, always friendly vibe. But, as locals will tell you, the town is truly at a crossroads: In late 2002, the City of Denver struck a deal with ski-resort developer Intrawest (think Whistler, Mammoth, Stratton, Copper), which promised to invest $50 million in on-mountain improvements-including a pond for ice skating, 500-plus housing units, a glass observation area for nonskiers to watch skiers, and even a possible widening of the Fraser River. The question remains: Will The Man end up changing WP's low-key, fleece-and-Carhartt vibe? Or just make a good thing better? Stay tuned. In the meantime, the bumps beckon.
Ski Areas
