Breckenridge. When I think of what skiing is in Colorado, I think of this long chain of connected peaks battered by the North wind and plastered with deep powder snow. In the photograph above, Breckenridge is seen in the distance from another great, but less famous ski hill, Keystone. Framed by a flocked pine tree after a snowstorm, the visible ski runs in the distance beckon you to ski there the next day. Well, Breckenridge was my home for 27 years, cut short by a bad piece of pulp fiction I won’t delve into. When I first stumbled onto this town in the Winter of 1966, it was a dump – a run-down Victorian mining town that had seen better days – with a fledgling ski area attached to it. After the Eisenhower Tunnel punched through the Continental Divide in 1973, it boomed to become a world class ski area and party town. I returned in 1990 to establish my own photography gallery showcasing the beauty of Colorado with the pictures I had taken. I love to ski, to date, I have skied 2,000 days in Colorado, many of them from the peaks of Breckenridge – the variety of terrain – the steeps, the bumps, the glades, and the cruisers. My knees and my back have punished me for having had so much fun – so I tell them to shut up and ski on. Skiing for me has been a way of life – in Colorado, 7 months of the year. In the waning days of Summer, I can’t wait for the Fall and the first snow – and anticipating the opener of the ski season in early November (or at Keystone in mid-October) It’s like the arrival of Spring to me; when Spring does come, I get depressed because it”s the end of the ski season as the area closes. Finally, in July when the wildflowers come out and the trails are clear of snow, I start photographing my popular Summer scenes until the flowers wilt in late August and I impatiently wait for the next ski season – in Breckenridge.
- Ancient Tree on