Crested Butte, two words that spell Telluride-before-the-Texans moved in. Don’t shoot the messenger, it’s a running joke locals like to say as friendly competitive banter to their “neighbour” over the mountain line.
They’re both old school style western towns dotted with multi coloured miner cottages now gentrified to multi-million dollar status. The kind of Main Streets Hollywood replicates in curated sets for romantic mini-series with men in cowboy hats and women in cowboy boots.
But you’ll find this cute-as-a-button ski town deep in the Elk Mountains of Gunnison County, a four and a half hour drive from Denver, accessed via winding country roads and snippets of highways. As the crow flies it’s just over the peaks from Aspen but as the car drives, it’s far from it.
Locals like to think it keeps those who love the I-70 from Denver to the front range resorts away. It’s certainly kept the town independent, even with Vail Resorts now at the helm of the ski hill and the resort firmly on the Epic Pass – Epic Australia Pass holders get unlimited access and 20% of Vail lodging, just saying.
The historical centre was founded as a coal mining town – another joke between Telluride who take the upper silver mining hand and Crested Butte. Though low-brow is hardly a term associated with ski town wealth, whether silver, coal or tech.
It sits in a grid like pattern of quirky book stores, high-end interior stores, bespoke custom made hats that cost a pretty penny for good hand created reason. There’s distilleries, a female owned whisky brand, craft beers, Japanese izakayas even an IV boutique to give you some extra pep.
I met Grammy Award nominated song-writers on the IV couch as you do – Dean Dillon of Tenessee Whiskey fame and his daughter Jessie Jo who writes for Post Malone and Keith Urban, in town for the annual Songwriters Shuffle event. With a ranch down the road, they’re considered locals and like all locals are super friendly and welcoming in this attitude-free town.
There’s a custom made local ski brand, Romp Skis on Bellevue Avenue, that’s worth a visit and if you can score yourself an invite into Eleven’s Scarp Ridge lodge, then go and set up camp.
Then, there’s Johnny. The elusive Australian who moved here decades ago and everyone asks “have you met him?” when they clock your Aussie accent. Which was surprisingly one of only a handful in town. “No, I haven’t met him” was my standard answer.
But what of the skiing and snowboarding at Crested Butte ski resort? You’ll find it up the road from the town complete with ski-in ski-out hotels and a free bus covered in fun murals to take you between the two.
Crested Butte is a true skiers mountain. It serves up couloirs and cliff bands like their cornflakes at breakfast with forty percent of the resort being double black. Add wide open runs with fall line pitch and if you love skiing then you’ve arrived in heaven with 933metres of vertical, 1540 acres of terrain and a peak elevation of 3707 metres.
You won’t find a ton of super swanky hi-tech new chairlifts here, there are some but would be good to get some new ones for powder days, but you will find seasonaires that come back winter after winter lured by the lack of pretension (the awesome terrain may contribute).
You can test your Seth Morrison metal on Rambo, North America’s steepest in-resort tree-cut run that school’s everyone. This is where competitive big-mountain skiing became a thing, where community trumps status and where skiing and adventure sit before luxury. You’re more likely to talk about the snow forecast here than real estate at the local cold-drip.
Which is where I finally found Johnny on my last day as I stopped for caffeine at the famous Camp 4 Coffee to fuel my drive to my next stop, from the chalk powder of the Butte to the French cheese of Aspen. No surprise Johnny was here really, the Aussies will always find the decent coffee in any North American ski town.
*Rachael Oakes-Ash was a guest of Colorado Tourism Office
*feature image supplied: Crested Butte Mountain Resort
