News
It's not where the man was actually born (Hollywood, Calif.), but it's certainly the birthplace of Warren Miller films, and in a weird ironic twist the deathplace (a word I've never typed before) of Ernest Hemingway.
Yep, Sun Valley, Idaho, “America's Original Destination Resort,” was the location last week for a few lucky Ski & Snowboard Club Vail athletes and their coaches as the young Vail Ambassadors competed against some of the best Idaho, Wyoming and Montana could muster.
I couldn't wait to finally witness what Warren Miller has spent decades gushing over repeatedly in film after film, and if truth be told (which I almost always do), the man was not exaggerating.
Nearly everything about the place was really nice, in a funky sort of way, in spite of (and in some cases because of) no matter where we looked I was constantly reminded of what would happen if Vail and Gypsum had a night of rough sex and the resulting town that popped out nine months later.
In Sun Valley's case, it is now much, much later, as this year they celebrate their 75th anniversary as a ski resort. With Vail about to celebrate our 50th beginning in a quick 10 months, it was fascinating to see how drastically different Sun Valley is as a resort town, and where we might be in another 25 years.
The Vail team stayed in the middle of town, where the motel was old but clean, and rooms cost a whopping $79 per night. In the morning we rode the free town bus about 10 minutes to the mountain base, and on the day we drove discovered parking at the very base of the mountain for –- get this –- free. From there it was an exhausting two-minute walk to the base lodge and lift.
The base lodge itself was like the new 10 up at Mid-Vail, but even nicer. The first thing we noticed were the rows of oak cubbies, where the honor system was in place for anyone and everyone to leave their stuff while they skied. Yeah, thet really did. Folks would leave their stuff, and for some bizarre reason it would still be there when they returned hours later.
Go figure.
The food area was similar to Two Elk, but the first kid to go through for breakfast came rushing out with his tray saying, “Hey, everybody, guess how much this cost!”
Estimates ranged from $18 all the way to $29, at which point he shouted, “9 bucks!”
To top it off they asked us not to bus our own trays, as it was their job to do it for us.
Who were these people?
For the most part, they were the type who made me feel 52 years young, as the majority of the crowd resembled the buildings in town -- old, worn down, but still standing (and in their case, skiing) proudly.
Except for the snow guns running straight down the middle of a few runs like extra large and lethal slalom gates, there were no lift lines, wide open slopes and absolutely gorgeous views all the way around.
Oh, and the Ski Club kids? They ruled the podium, both boys and girls, and won the overall titles for the Monroe Cup.
As Warren Miller would have pointed out, they did Vail proud.
Richard Carnes of Edwards writes weekly. He can be reached at poor@vail.net.
Yep, Sun Valley, Idaho, “America's Original Destination Resort,” was the location last week for a few lucky Ski & Snowboard Club Vail athletes and their coaches as the young Vail Ambassadors competed against some of the best Idaho, Wyoming and Montana could muster.
I couldn't wait to finally witness what Warren Miller has spent decades gushing over repeatedly in film after film, and if truth be told (which I almost always do), the man was not exaggerating.
Nearly everything about the place was really nice, in a funky sort of way, in spite of (and in some cases because of) no matter where we looked I was constantly reminded of what would happen if Vail and Gypsum had a night of rough sex and the resulting town that popped out nine months later.
In Sun Valley's case, it is now much, much later, as this year they celebrate their 75th anniversary as a ski resort. With Vail about to celebrate our 50th beginning in a quick 10 months, it was fascinating to see how drastically different Sun Valley is as a resort town, and where we might be in another 25 years.
The Vail team stayed in the middle of town, where the motel was old but clean, and rooms cost a whopping $79 per night. In the morning we rode the free town bus about 10 minutes to the mountain base, and on the day we drove discovered parking at the very base of the mountain for –- get this –- free. From there it was an exhausting two-minute walk to the base lodge and lift.
The base lodge itself was like the new 10 up at Mid-Vail, but even nicer. The first thing we noticed were the rows of oak cubbies, where the honor system was in place for anyone and everyone to leave their stuff while they skied. Yeah, thet really did. Folks would leave their stuff, and for some bizarre reason it would still be there when they returned hours later.
Go figure.
The food area was similar to Two Elk, but the first kid to go through for breakfast came rushing out with his tray saying, “Hey, everybody, guess how much this cost!”
Estimates ranged from $18 all the way to $29, at which point he shouted, “9 bucks!”
To top it off they asked us not to bus our own trays, as it was their job to do it for us.
Who were these people?
For the most part, they were the type who made me feel 52 years young, as the majority of the crowd resembled the buildings in town -- old, worn down, but still standing (and in their case, skiing) proudly.
Except for the snow guns running straight down the middle of a few runs like extra large and lethal slalom gates, there were no lift lines, wide open slopes and absolutely gorgeous views all the way around.
Oh, and the Ski Club kids? They ruled the podium, both boys and girls, and won the overall titles for the Monroe Cup.
As Warren Miller would have pointed out, they did Vail proud.
Richard Carnes of Edwards writes weekly. He can be reached at poor@vail.net.
