Memories of Aspen

I moved to Aspen in October of 2003. I was leaving a failed marriage in Beaufort, NC and needed a fresh start and a clean break from NC. My sister had been living in Aspen for a couple of years, and this was my first and only choice. I had visited several times in the past to ski. I also had been out for my sister's wedding in Aspen, so I was relatively familiar with the town. Other than that, I had absolutely no idea what to expect.

My first memory of living in Aspen happened a couple of days after I got there. My sister's husband was a chef in town and owned his own restaurant. He knew that I had just left my job in NC as a wine rep, so he asked me to attend a big wine trade show and pick out some wine for his restaurant. I was all too eager to accept. I should mention before I continue that I never spit out the wine that I'm tasting. Not as a wine rep. And not when I was the wine program manager and buyer at my last bar. For one, I think its gross watching someone spit out the wine they're swishing around in their mouth. Secondly, you rob yourself of the tastes you get after you swallow. And probably most importantly, I don't want to waste the effects of drinking wine. So on this particular day, as I stopped by the tables, chatted with the reps, and sampled the wines, I didn't spit out a single one. I brought a notepad with me to take notes to reference later with my brother-in-law. I should also mention that I was currently at roughly 8,000 feet above sea level. Less than a week before I had been at about 900 feet above sea level. The notes on my first 10 or so wines were good. The kind of things you'd expect from a sales rep. The next 10 or so got much more casual and quiet a bit shorter. The last 15 or so were things like "fucking awesome" and by the end the notes were completely incoherent. The only thing I remember after that was stumbling back to my car, which I didn't drive, and puking on the side of the driver's door. From then on out, there was a big purple stain on that door!

It takes time adjusting to living at that altitude. 8,000 feet is no joke! The tops of the ski mountains were over 11,000. Besides getting drunk obnoxiously quick, it's hard to breathe and dehydration is a constant problem. But once the body adjusts, you hardly notice that you're so high up. It took about a month for me to get my drinking legs back. Once you can drink at altitude and you return home to lower lands, the amount of alcohol you can consume is amazing. I would drink my buddies under the table.

The ski season in Aspen begins around Halloween. The mountains open a few weeks later, but everyone starts returning from off-season by Halloween, which is a super big deal in Aspen. Through the help of my sister, I landed a job as a bartender at The St. Regis. They had a huge lobby in the hotel which had a lobby bar. That was my bar for the next year. I also worked a couple of nights at my brother-in-law's restaurant. The money was good at The St. Regis, but the people watching was better. And the celebrities that came to the bar never got old. I would always try to keep my cool when I talked to them, but inside my heart was always racing.

The first real snow always happened around Halloween. And for the next six months, that was all it would do. Not a single rain drop for six months. Just snow, snow, and more snow. That was definitely an adjustment for a NC boy. Constantly scraping the windshield. I got really good at opening my door slowly so the suction wouldn't pull a mound of snow into my car seat. I learned how to drive in big snow. I learned how to drive on ice and slush. I learned the value of snow tires. I also learned that if you don't take the snow tires off in the spring, they quickly become regular tires and won't do a bit of good the next season. I learned how to walk on the snow and ice. It took a couple of serious falls to teach me the value of small steps, but I learned. Aspen village is surrounded on all sides by mountains, so for the six months of snow, it never really got dark. The snow on all those mountains would shine at night, so everywhere you looked, you'd see big sheets of white. It was a beautiful sight.

Aspen itself grows substantially in population during ski season. People come from all over the world to work and ski there. The biggest groups I got to know were from Australia, New Zealand and South America. All of them were ski junkies who would chase winter. They'd come to us for our winter and then return home for their winter. There were also a lot of Brits. And of all the groups that I met, my favorite were the Aussies. I love those folks. So laid back. So happy. And they'd say "Cheers" to everything.

In April, the season ends and the town pretty much shuts down. I'd say at least half the businesses shut down for some period of time. People that worked the season either return home or take extended vacations using the money they'd saved during the season. The St. Regis closed for two months after my first season, so I came back to NC and rested. The plan when I returned was to work full time at my brother-in-law's restaurant. He was doing a big renovation and was doubling the size, so he needed help, and I volunteered.

There's a saying among those that live in Aspen, or any mountain town, that you come for the winter, but you stay for the summer. That first summer in Aspen I found out how true that saying is. There's no humidity at that elevation. The temperatures, at their hottest, would average in the 80s. And there are no mosquitoes. Yes, you read that correctly. There are no mosquitoes at that elevation. Imagine those perfect spring days here in NC before the humidity becomes unbearable and minus the bugs. That was every summer day in Aspen. It isn't nearly as colorful as it is here in NC. But man, that weather! One thing you learn to do in summer is carry a backpack with warm clothes for when the sun sets. Unlike here in NC where it stays hot 24 hours a day, out there when the sun sets, the temperature drops significantly. Tourists learned the hard way that shorts and t-shirts were only good when the sun was up. Nights got cold!

Before I continue, I want to paint you several pictures for reference. The main road leading into Aspen was called Main Street. As you drove down Main Street, to your right was most of the shops, the St. Regis, The Little Nell, as well as Aspen Mountain. On your left was neighborhoods, some shops, and behind it was Red Mountain. About half way down Main Street was the intersection with S. Mill Street. On the left corner was The Hotel Jerome. If you took a left at this light, you would be heading towards my brother-in-law's restaurant called Toppers. His name was Greg Topper, hence the name. Toppers was in one of Aspen's only "shopping centers.' It had a grocery store, a liquor store, a hardware store, a bagel shop, a gift shop and a movie rental store. There might've been something else, but I can't remember. Walking up to the shopping center, the building was shaped like a large "U." Topper's was the entire front of the left side of the U. The liquor store shared the back wall of Toppers. The grocery store was in the back. The movie store and the gift shop were beside it. And the bagel shop was on the other side of the U. This shopping center was a place where everyone who lived in Aspen or was visiting had to go for something, so it was always busy. But it was also on the opposite side of town from the touristy places. This made it an almost locals-exclusive area.

Toppers was an amazing restaurant. Topper was an incredible chef and his food was some of the best in town. He had these things called Aspen Bowls which consisted of either mashed potatoes, polenta, brown rice, white rice or tofu, alongside of either pork stew, chicken cacciatore, shrimp curry or something else I'm forgetting. The idea was you'd get the two, mix them all together and go to town. Talk about comfort food! He also had the best tuna salad you've ever had. There were a bunch of pizzas to choose from. A ton of homemade desserts. Walking up to the shopping center and entering the restaurant through the take-out side, which looked across at the bagel shop, you'd walk up to the register between a giant deli case on your left and a wall on your right. The case was full of all the ingredients to all his sandwiches, as well as other items, and also the desserts. Above and behind the register was a huge chalk board with the entire menu. In the middle of the restaurant was an open kitchen, as well as the "server's station" with all the take out stuff. On the left side of the restaurant, which you would access through the dining room door in the front, was a small dining room with 10 or so tables and a bar running along the back wall.

Toppers thrived on the locals. The common scenario was for someone to come in, order a ton of stuff to go, and then head to the grocery store and grab their food on the way back to their car. Toppers was essentially a take-out restaurant that happened to also have a dining room. But the volume was definitely the take-out side. And the genius thing about Toppers was that is was all geared to be take-out. From the deli case, to the way everything was boxed up, to the menu itself, everything at Toppers was take-out friendly and take-out ready. The locals knew this and they would stop in almost daily. We also had some pretty cool celebrities that knew Toppers and would stop in often.

Every year for the week before Christmas, Jimmy Buffett would visit Aspen. When he was in town, the only restaurant he would dine at for both lunch and dinner was Toppers. That was the only restaurant he went to. He loved the food. He and Topper were friends. And he loved that it was a locals place, off the beaten path, where he could enjoy his meal without people bugging him. After all, this was his vacation. For those of you who don't know this, I'm a huge Parrot head. The only two songs I sang to all three of my kids when they were babies are both Buffett songs. I love the man and his music. The first year he came in I was floored. It was like Jerry Garcia walking in. One of my favorite artists was literally right in front of me. Over the next four years, a friendship was formed. He remembered my name each year. We would chit chat. I would always have to remind myself to keep it short, as not to overstep my bounds. But man, there were so many questions I wanted to ask him. And he was so cool. So nice. I miss him!

John Oates came in all the time. He's really short. David Stern, former NBA commissioner, came in a lot. We had Chris Everette Lloyd come in whenever she was in town. Another cool thing about Toppers was since it was at the front of the building, we had the perfect vantage point to see everyone walking up to the shopping center. This was key, considering how many drop dead gorgeous women there were at any time in Aspen It was also key for spotting celebs. On one particular day, I noticed Ringo Starr walking up. I grabbed one of our amazing chocolate chip cookies and when he was walking by Toppers, I stopped him, shook his hand, gave him the cookie and said "Mr. Starr, Beatles get free cookies today." He laughed, thanked me and went on his way. Yes, folks, I have shaken hands with a Beatle.

I remember one day, either spring or summer, this dude walks in the take-out side wearing full mountain biking gear. Bike helmet, spandex shirt, spandex shorts. The full outfit. I didn't think much of it until I walked up to greet him. David Byrne. Lead singer of The Talking Heads. Standing right in front of me. Be cool. Don't act nervous. He orders a tuna salad sandwich. I tell him it will be about 10 minutes and that he can wait in the little area by the door or outside and I'll let him know when it's ready. He moves to the area where there are some other folks waiting on their food. As I'm boxing everyone's food, a song pops into my head and I start to laugh. I've got to do it. I mean, this chance will never happen again. I began singing, loud enough for everyone waiting to hear me. "And you find yourself, waiting at Toppers. And you may find yourself, waiting on your tuna sandwich. And you may find yourself, getting your tuna sandwich." For the next line of the song, with the food all bagged up, I start walking towards the group. I then sing the next line. "And you may say to yourself, this is not my tuna fish sandwich!" Everyone looks at me strangely, until they see me hand a bag to David Byrne, who is laughing. He takes his food, shakes my hand, and thanks me for the laugh. Yes, friends, I made David Byrne laugh!

A good way to tell if something big was happening in Aspen was to count the number of private jets parked at the little airport just down valley. The bigger the event, the more private planes would be squeezed beside each other. Towards the end of my time in Aspen, Hunter S. Thompson shot himself at his ranch in Woody Creek. It was huge news for us, as Hunter was one of our most beloved residents. He had stated in a note that he wanted his ashes blown out of a cannon on his ranch. The days before his memorial party, the airport began filling up. By the time of the party, the airport was as full as I had ever seen it. The guest list for that event was the who's who. Everyone was in town.

By year three in Aspen, I began to start thinking of leaving. I missed NC and wanted to get back home. I was also afraid that if I didn't get out soon, I'd never leave. Aspen is a place like no other. It's almost not real. Everywhere you look and everywhere you go are some of the most picturesque places on earth. People travel from all over the world just to see the things that I was seeing every day. I had friends from all over the world. At no time in NC would I hang out with Aussies, Kiwis, Brazilians and Brits all in the same place at the same time. I got used to seeing famous people. I got used to seeing the most beautiful women I'd ever seen daily. I got used to being around people that were intelligent, articulate, healthy, in shape, eccentric, active, unique. This isn't normal. This surely doesn't describe the place I'm from. And the cool thing about Aspen that no one except the locals realize is that it isn't some bougie place where the billionares come to party. I mean, it is. But not all the time. Aspen is really just a small mountain town with a lot of really cool, really quirky ski bums. It's the kind of place where you can settle in and lose track of time. You get comfortable, you begin to believe that this fairy tale is actually real, and the next thing you know, 20 years have passed. This is what I was afraid of. And this is why I left.

In January 2007, I packed up my car and left Aspen. I drove straight back to NC. I haven't been back to Aspen since. Not because I don't want to. I'm actually dying to go back. I want to take the family in the summertime to show them my old stomping grounds. I want to take the pass and show them one of the scariest drives you can take in a car. I want to see the kids eyes as they see Aspen for the first time. It's a pretty magical place and I know that those mountains will amaze them. I want to take them to see the Bells. I think it'll be an amazing trip and I hope someday soon we can make it. Until then, I've got my fond memories of that fairytale place....

A view of the shopping center, with Toppers on the left

The song I was listening to as I left Aspen for the last time