Bonjour Colorado

What Kind of a Traveler Am I Anyhow? Part One: Packing

I can be a bit of a kook actually. Sometimes I’m frighteningly calm, other times I’m manic. Doesn’t traveling amplify all of our crazy, quirky, compulsive traits? Travel can be about totally letting go, but it’s also about zeroing in on the most minute details. For me, I love being in this mode of complete bipolarity when it comes to touring and discovery. But when it concerns the logistics of travel—planes and packing, for example—it can make me nuts. Or I just respond with a total laissez-faire attitude that can potentially make others around me go ballistic.

Let’s take packing. I’m from the bring-a-wide-selection-so-that-you-have-a-choice mindset. That’s totally Old School, especially with the baggage surcharges enforced by the airlines today. It’s tough though since I love to look my best when traveling and that often means switching out handbags and shoes along with a few different sweaters and a couple of coats. (We’re already approaching the limit here.) I had a near breakdown when I traveled to the east coast in September which prompted a major intervention I performed on myself (in the privacy of my bedroom, thank goodness) when I prepared for a second east coast trip in October. I don’t know what I was thinking, but I almost choked at the United counter in September when I had to pay $75. for two bags that I hadn’t even registered online. And that was just for the outbound segment. What made it worse was that I was to be spending most of my time in beach communities in Virginia Beach and The Outer Banks. How much room could a couple of bathing suits, sandals and assorted casual wear take up? This is pathetic, I thought to myself at check in. Granted I had a heavy silk dress and jacket packed in there for a wedding I was to attend (with, of course, the requisite matching sandals and bag). I was cursing my boyfriend, Steve, to myself for having urged me to take my sneakers. (Now that’s a space eater if there ever was one—who walks on the beach in sneaks anyway?) I had also thrown in my hairdryer since it appeared I might be without one for a bit. (Who travels with a hairdryer these days?) And my toiletry case ended up being the joke of our ten-day trip since it was stuffed with twenty some odd bottles (mini, but still), containing my prized potions and lotions that I presumably couldn’t live without. Now really? My God, an intervention was definitely in order. Clearly I hadn’t followed my own packing tips outlined here.

I know better. But an overflow of stress, combined with a what-the-hell kind of attitude provoked me to throw all my stuff into one suitcase, a duffle bag and two carry ons. I schlepped this proliferation of possessions from plane, to car, to another car, to taxi, to bus (yes, even on the Greyhound; read Riding the Bus), then to more car, plane and car, cursing myself the whole way. You get the idea.

I swore I’d never do that again. And so I haven’t, at least not on my October trip back east. I followed my own advice and cut my wardrobe selection in half and let it hang on door handles in my room for a few days before departure. Then I thought more about all—accessories and toiletries included—and neatly folded my trim little selection into my suitcase the morning of my departure. Phew! The intervention had worked. Plus I had registered my one bag online within the twenty-four-hour period allowed. Boy was I feeling mighty!

Suddenly I’m struck with that panicky feeling again, a strange sort of anxiety brought on by pre-departure packing plans. I’m leaving tomorrow with Steve on an almost week-long jaunt to Colorado Springs. He’s the General Manager at Mountain Lodge in Telluride and he’ll be attending the annual Colorado Hotel and Lodging Association conference at The Broadmoor. I’ll be joining him at a few events in search of story ideas and more. I already had my wardrobe planned in my head (and on my door knobs), thinking I’d draw from some combination of Rocky Mountain casual and Parisian chic. (It is The Broadmoor after all.) Then suddenly he tells me he’d like to add on a day of skiing on the return trip. “Oh, sure, sure, that’s great,” I said. But then I thought about having to pack my ski pants and ski jacket, mittens, hat, the whole shabang. I had already been wondering where my skis and ski boots were located since I didn’t see them in my storage area in Montrose, an hour and a half from where I live, when I went to pick up my winter things there ten days ago. I’ve been meaning to check my other storage area in Telluride as well as my ski locker at the mountain. My heart quickened. I’ve been on the verge of throwing Getting Ready for Ski Season: Part Two into motion, but now I need to get it into full activation mode. (Fortunately I’m already well into Getting Ready for Ski Season: Part One.)

Jeez, this is really confusing. And then I wonder how many other people go through these kinds of mind games regarding travel. Our supposedly more relaxed lifestyle of The West can be thrown a curve ball when you add on “just one day of skiing” to a business trip/elegant romantic getaway. One would think I’d be a professional traveler and could handle any scenario. When I’m in full ski instructor mode I sometimes sleep in my long underwear, get up, have breakfast, wash my face, brush my teeth and fly out the door to the mountain in near record time. But this travel combo so early in the season almost seems daunting. I take a deep breath and remember all the calming words I uttered to myself during my little intervention. Ssssh, ssssh, ssssh, stop, I say to myself. So what if I have to take two different pairs of mittens, socks and a variety of layers in order to be properly prepared for any type of weather for our one day of skiing, our maiden voyage of the ski season. I can handle it, I tell myself. And you won’t bring more than one file along with your laptop, I add on, almost as an afterthought. Can it be a fat one? I ask myself pleadingly. All right, all right.

Thankfully Steve, who travels considerably for his work, is no better than me. Actually worse, I think. On our east coast trip in September, he also checked two bags and a guitar! I’m not altogether sure what he had packed in his duffels but he mumbled something about his wetsuit and booties taking up a lot of room. Like my hairdryer, his wetsuit, booties and guitar were used only once during the entire trip. He employed his surfboard considerably more but that he leaves stashed back east. I wouldn’t think of doing a packing intervention on him. In any event, I love the fact that I travel with a guy that brings more stuff than me.

I wonder how it will be for us this trip.  I’m already beginning to feel slightly superior after my October test, despite my sporadic mind chatter that has raised some new packing insecurities.  We are driving and neither of us has to worry about baggage allotments.  Hmmmmm.  Oh dear, I sense a binge coming on.

Skiing and Spa Going: Part One in Vail, Colorado

Après Ski Necessities at Vail Plaza Hotel & Club

What?  Don’t tell me you’re tired of hearing about skiing.  While most die-hard skiers are still plowing through mashed potatoes and corn snow at ski areas such as A-Basin in Colorado and Mammoth Mountain in California, most of us ardent ski buffs have finally resigned ourselves to hanging up our skis for the season.  But smart travelers should begin contemplating next season.  

If any of you out there (devoted readers, for example) have been waiting with bated breath to read about my weekend with Steve (see Weekend Expectations blog below), I can tell you our time together scored exceedingly high marks.  We, in fact, spent two weekends in a row together in April experiencing end-of-ski-season bliss.  Plus we learned that spring is a great time to ski and spa go without dealing with the crowds.  Bargains are excellent during this time as well.  (The same, of course, holds true for early season in November and the first half of December.)

Vail and Its Fairytale-Like Village

We zipped off to Vail after Telluride officially closed to experience the fun and fanfare of their closing weekend.  A spring storm dumped impressive amounts of snow on the mountain beginning the Thursday before.  Had it not been for Steve nursing an extremely sore back (from apparently having skied too hard the previous weekend in T-ride which had also benefited from an outstanding snowfall at its closing), I would have feared more powder day problems.  Instead we carried on like two lovers on a weekend getaway where skiing and mountain fun entered into only part of the equation (wink, wink).

I had only been to Vail once before many years ago for my PSIA (Professional Ski Instructor of America) certification, so this time I was eager to discover it for real.  Steve gladly toured me around Vail’s renowned back bowls and I was thrilled to find myself cruising on black terrain considerably softer than what we have in T-ride.  (Of course I love our steeps but they do require more effort.)  After just a few hours of skiing, however, Steve declared that his back had had enough.  That was fine with me since by then I felt as though I had a good grasp of the mountain and looked forward to the day when I could return and really wear myself out at this world renowned resort.

This left us with time to explore Vail Village, a pedestrian-friendly assemblage of shops, restaurants, bars and places of lodging that truly made us feel like we were on vacation.   One might look at this Bavarian-inspired hamlet as hokey (I have in the past), but it really does transport you to a faraway land and we jumped on for the ride.  Steve, with his family ties to the Italian Alps, pointed out how authentic these alpine chalets really were in their construction and interpretation.  This enchanted me even more, so I suggested we stop for a coffee and a strudel at Hotel-Gastof Gramshammer, one of the more charming wooden establishments in the area, founded in 1965 by Austrians Sheika and Pepi Gramshammer.

It was a good choice.  We sat at their German beer garden terrace and then later discovered that this classic alpine establishment also housed two other restaurants, a particularly animated bar and hotel rooms above.  I wasn’t sure whether I was more wooed by its charm or Steve’s attentiveness.  

End-of-Ski-Season Festivities

We quickly changed at our room at the Italian-inspired Vail Plaza Hotel & Club.  We were already immensely enjoying this hotel, maybe because we had had such a heartwarming introduction the night before when we sat in Bacco’s Bar, the hotel bar, and soaked up the sensational sounds of singer/guitar player, Wil Roberts, one of the hotel’s regular performers.  Wil sang everyone’s favorites from “Bye, Bye Miss American Pie” to “Brown Eyed Girl.”  His repertory of acoustic pop is vast, yet we decided we liked his James Taylor songs the best.  The service was also excellent at the hotel and since it was not peak season, they offered fantastic deals on their rooms.  We also quickly discovered that the location of Vail Plaza was prime, and were sorry we weren’t staying through Sunday night to take in the end-of-the-season bash that was going to take place steps away after the mountain closed for the season the next day.

Now though it was time to poke around Beaver Creek, an even more high-end and challenging ski destination just down the road from Vail in Avon.  The mountain had closed the weekend before but I was curious to check out the Park Hyatt Beaver Creek Resort and Spa, a resort I had heard much about over the years.  I had arranged a brief tour of their Allegria Spa, which had already made its way to the top of my must-see list years ago.  Both of us practically melted.  The elegant decor in muted colors, the redolent smells of wildflower and juniper baths and the omnipresent sound of soothing waters, lulled us into a state of relaxation combined with admiration for all that had been created here.  Allegria is Italian for happiness and indeed their modern day re-creation of Roman bathes won us over more than we could have imagined.  (Since both of us are in the hospitality business, we’ve visited many spas.)  “This is the nicest couples’ massage room I’ve ever seen,” Steve said as we admired the cozy, yet sophisticated, Mountain View Room, replete with fireplace and two luxurious massage tables.

“C’mon, we have to go to dinner,” I said pulling at his sleeve.  

“I could stay here all night,” he practically whimpered.

8100 Before the Crowd Arrived

Dinner at 8100 Mountainside Bar & Grill, the Park Hyatt’s recently redesigned restaurant, wasn’t such a bad alternative.  We enjoyed the swanky interior and lively ambiance in the two large rooms filled with mostly fortysomething diners.  (Quite surprising for off-season!)  It seemed as though we were all grooving to the Euro lounge music and the delightfully prepared food laid before us, all made from the freshest ingredients from local and prized purveyors.  

We slept in the next day and enjoyed our first luxurious Sunday morning together since the ski areas had opened for the season.  Steve’s back still ached and I made it known that we didn’t have to ski Vail’s last day.  We both yearned for the spa.  I knew that Vail Plaza Hotel boasted their own Sorrento Spa, but we couldn’t get our minds off of Allegria.  The rest of the morning was spent strolling about Vail Village scanning the ski shops for extraordinary end-of-the-year bargains and breathing in the freshness of this glorious spring day.  

We brunched at Alpenrose, another exceedingly quaint alpine-styled bistro, where we basked in the sunshine on their terrace facing the mountain.  We both felt as though we were back in the Old World together.  Steve ordered a Bratwurst while I chose to be more adventuresome with a Leberkâse, a sort of bologna served over a bed of creamed spinach with pan roasted potatoes, topped with a fried egg.  The perfect accompaniment to my mimosa.  

The time had come to roll out of town and to make one more pass at Allegria.  We changed into our bathing suits—full bellies and all–and tiptoed out to the Spa’s open air pool and hot tubs, located a snowball’s throw away from Beaver Creek’s lifts.  We padded back inside to the Aqua Sanitas, or healing waters, to truly embark upon our water ritual.  We began together at the Thermae Pool, the hot co-ed pool that evokes a natural spring.  We then parted and continued our self-guided tour in the privacy of the separate male and female quarters.  Later we compared notes about each other’s experience at the Cascata Rainshower, the Caldarium Steam Room and the Tepidarium.  (I had decided to skip the Caldarium Mineral Pools since I was already feeling like a prune but, of course, later regretted it.)  I marveled at how all those water therapies seemed to penetrate my very core and neither of us had even had a treatment such as a massage.  I dozed most of the way home.

Thermae at Allegria

“You know what was so great about all that, too?”  I said to Steve.  “There wasn’t a soul around.”

“I know, we had the whole spa to ourselves,” he replied.  “End-of-the-season is really one of the best times to take in a ski resort.”

“I agree.  Even if you don’t do a whole lot of skiing,”  I said with a wink.

Vail Mountain, www.vail.com

Vail Plaza Hotel, 866-597-5963, www.vailplazahotel.com

Hotel-Gastof Gramshammer, 970-476-5626, www.pepis.com

Alpenrose, 970-476-8899

Another Favorite Vail Restaurant

La Bottega, 970-476-0280, www.labottegavail.com; an authentic Northern Italian restaurant also located in Vail Village.

Beaver Creek

Park Hyatt Beaver Creek Resort and Spa, 970-949-1234, www.beavercreek.hyatt.com

Allegria Spa, 970-748-7500, www.allegriaspa.com

Weekend Expectations

It’s often recommended not to have any expectations.  But how can you not when it comes to a weekend getaway?  I’m sure even guys think (O.K., fantasize) about  what they want out of a romantic weekend away.  That’s part of the fun.  Call it another form of travel planning.

I’m trying not to think too much about my plans for this weekend.  Yet still little glimmers of mostly romantic moments keep popping into my mind.  Let’s face it, even if it’s not fireworks it darn well had better be good.  And how do I define good?  Nothing short of blissful togetherness.  Perfect harmony where the mere thought of it all coming to an end makes both of our hearts sink.

Vail is closing for the season this weekend and I thought it would be great to take in the festivities with Steve, my new love.  Normally I wouldn’t question (even remotely!) if all would go well but there’s a big storm in the forecast and Saturday is looking like a powder day.  There are no friends on powder days as the saying goes, and I found this out for real back in January when we took our first weekend away.

We both were incredibly psyched about discovering Crested Butte, a spectacular Colorado destination known for its rugged terrain, authentic spirit and quaint Victorian town.  Neither of us had spent any real time there, so it was uncharted territory for us both.  Truly though I think it was the idea of spending forty-eight hours together that appealed to us the most.

The Pearl Room at The Crested Butte Retreat

The drive there couldn’t have been more perfect since we talked nonstop, sharing thoughts, dreams and ideas that we hadn’t yet revealed in previous conversations.  We tiptoed in to The Crested Butte Retreat, a high-end bed-and-breakfast that I had located on the Internet.  Our meeting with our gracious hosts would wait until morning.  We pushed open the door to the Pearl Room (also known as the Honeymoon Suite) and sauntered into an immense, milky-colored space, twice the size of my apartment back home.  We savored a glass of red wine on the loveseat before falling into bed, totally smitten with each other and our surroundings.

We Could Ski Right Outside the Door of The Crested Butte Retreat

After an elegant breakfast together, we left practically hand in hand for the slopes the next day.  It was a perfect day, punctuated by many fun runs together on Crested Butte’s craggy slopes and one long break at the Ice Bar, a popular gathering spot on the mountain where we gulped frosty beers and snuggled up to each other at a wraparound bar made entirely of blocks of ice.  We cooed some more over an après-ski hot chocolate and then rushed back to the Retreat for a quick change for dinner.  (We even endured a goof up with the public transportation which resulted in us missing a bus and having to wait a near eternity for another.  We didn’t care much though; we were one with each other.)

We opted out of a romantic dinner à deux to dine with Ken and Kim Stone, two incredibly warm and enthusiastic people that both Steve and I knew from their time in Telluride.  As the CEO of Crested Butte Mountain Resort, Ken provided us with the full rundown on this once rough-around-the-edges mountain town that is morphing into a more sophisticated destination for outdoor enthusiasts in the know.  We chatted about this evolution over cheese fondue and juicy steaks in the uber sleek setting of the newly opened Prime in Elevation Hotel at Mt. Crested Butte.  No one, of course, could have asked for a better introduction to the Butte.

We fell asleep in each others arms, professing our utter contentment with each other and openly stated that something had to bring us back to reality.  It was almost dizzying to feel so high up in the clouds.

Be careful what you wish for—I’ve been warned of that many times, too.  Our fluffy white haze turned into a big, dark thunderhead that rained upset and grief upon us by mid Sunday afternoon.  The day started out excitedly:  Steve was pumped about skiing powder with Ken and Kim and I felt proud of myself for giving him space to knock himself out since I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep up with them on Crested Butte’s renowned double diamonds.  The plan was that I would go on a Meet the Mountain tour and meet him for lunch.  All was well in honeymoon land.

By almost 2 p.m., however, I was a wreck.  He never showed up for lunch.  “What?  How could you forget?”  I cried in between sobs.

“I don’t know, I just spaced it.  I’m sorry.  I screwed up.”

High Drama Hot Tub

Our weekend was irretrievable.  Even a late check out and a long soak in the Honeymoon hot tub, couldn’t take us back to the soft space we had created together the first 3/4 of our weekend away.  It took more time than that for both of us to fully recover.

Now here we are on the eve of another ski weekend away, another powder day.  It would be silly for me not to expect to have it go well.  But if there is a glitch, maybe now I wouldn’t take it quite so personally.  Travel, after all, always brings out the best and the worst in relationships.

The Crested Butte Retreat, 970-349-1701, www.crestedbutteretreat.com ; please note that since this story was posted, The Crested Butte Retreat is no longer operating as an inn.  You may, however, rent out the entire property for special retreats.

Crested Butte Mountain Resort, 800-810-7669, www.skicb.com

Prime in the Elevation Hotel at Mt. Crested Butte, 970-251-3030, www.skicb.com/cbmr/things-to-do/dining-mtcrestedbutte

Crested Butte is known for its proliferation of wildflowers in the summer.  I have never seen this spectacular display but hope to some day soon.  Maybe it will provide me with the opportunity to rewrite our ending in the Honeymoon Suite.

Hillside of Flowers in Front of The Crested Butte Retreat

Night Out in Telluride

I moved to Telluride almost six years ago largely for its scenery, sunshine and sophistication.  I often say that the world comes to Telluride and am amazed by the number of renowned musicians, authors and movers and shakers from the film industry and other creative and scientific domains that consistently descend upon our little mountain town, often to perform or share their work in a small venue.  These people are drawn to the beauty and mystique of Telluride as much as the average ski bum is in awe over our plunging slopes and lively bars.  

Our world-class festivals bring in much of this talent, extraordinary happenings that take place for the most part from Memorial Day to Labor Day, attracting devotees and casual observers from near and far.  Thankfully Telluride’s special attractions are not just reserved for the summer months.  There’s plenty to take in here year-round, making it exceedingly difficult to remain idle in this remote mountain town, even in the dead of winter or the thick of off-season.  

Grooving to Grupo Fantasma at the Sheridan Opera House

Many of the events are, in fact, hosted by the big festivals.  Such was the case recently at the Sheridan Opera House, where the Telluride Jazz Festival put on their winter concert to a sell out crowd.  Anything the Telluride Jazz Festival does is of the highest quality, so my interest was naturally piqued when I learned that Grupo Fantasma, a ten-piece latin band, would be showcased this year.  Seeing such a sizzling ensemble of musicians jamming on the tiny stage of our historic opera house could not be missed.  (As one of Telluride’s landmark sites, this jewel box of a theater has featured illustrious performers such as Lillian Gish, Sarah Bernhardt and Jackson Browne in its more than one-hundred-year-old existence.)

Sheridan Opera House: A Telluride Treasure

Plus the stakes were raised for this evening out.  The truth is I had heard about this show from the folks at my salsa class.  Salsa as in dancing, not sauce making.  I hadn’t taken a dance class since I was seven years old but in recent years I became increasingly consumed with the idea of signing up for lessons with a most willing partner.  (My days of dancing the alley cat in a fouffy party dress at the Country Club must have indeed marked me.   Or was it the yummy ice cream sundae that followed each session that had me hooked?)  

The Ah-haa School, one of Telluride’s fine assets, is a stronghold of learning and fun that offers a great variety of courses from silkscreening to yes, salsa dancing.  Why I started out with one of the most challenging dances known to man I do not know.  I had found my perfect partner in Steve (see Night Out in Telluride Mountain Village posting), so of course I thought if there’s a will there’s a way and surely we’d be dancing like two passionate latin lovers in no time.  Come again?  We moved clumsily through our various moves with about as much heat as two gringos doing the macarena at an Italian wedding reception.  But still we persevered.  This must be some kind of a test of our relationship, I thought to myself numerous times.  Up until then we enjoyed an amazingly harmonious existence (excepting the times he’d blow me off on powder days).   Now it seemed ridiculous to subject ourselves to consternation such as what step to take when. 

Attending Grupo Fantasma was to be a coming out party of sorts for our salsa class.  Sure our teacher, the lovely Debbie Reynolds (most aptly named!), was to be there but she would not be calling out quick, quick, slow, quick, quick, slow to us the way she lead us through each move in class.  

The Vault Room at La Coçina de Luz

Many of us gathered at La Cocina de Luz, a favorite locals’ restaurant, for dinner before the show.  We enjoyed our own special enclave within the Vault Room where we ate chips and salsa, sipped margaritas, savored mexican food lovingly prepared from the finest ingredients and swapped stories about who we really were beneath our dancing personas and where we hoped to go with our newly acquired hobby.  (I liked the idea of some of us going on a latin dance cruise the best!)

We pulled ourselves away from this colorful and lively establishment and braved the short, brisk walk down the street to the Opera House.  Grupo Fantasma did indeed turn the chilly night into a hot, sweaty happening fueled by a couple more drinks but most of all our earnest desire to dance the night away with real passion and minimal stepping on each other’s feet.  Steve almost gave up on us, lamenting that we couldn’t follow the beat and that I kept attempting to lead.  

Then suddenly we clicked.  We were dancing the salsa.  I looked around and realized that the only people that did anything other than hippie dancing were those from our little salsa class.  We felt truly initiated into the exciting world of latin dancing (even though I’m sure we looked like total white folk).  We signed up for another series of classes.  We talked about taking a trip to Vegas where there’s no shortage of salsa.  We dreamed about breaking out into a sensuous salsa some day in South America like two dark haired latin lovers on a spotlighted stage.  I started tuning in to “Dancing with the Stars” to check out the moves on the salsa dances.  We started to feel more and more latino with every class.

“Jazz Festival will be here soon enough,” I mentioned to Steve.  “Maybe there will even be a latin act on the town park stage or at the opera house,” I added, hinting at the opportunity to dance more to some great live music.

“We better get practicing then,” he replied with a hint of a smile on his curled up mouth.

“I’ll check the salsa CDs out of the library.  You’d better start polishing your shoes.”

Soup, Salad and Lots of Salsa in T-ride

Sheridan Opera House, 970-728-6363, www.sheridanoperahouse.com

Telluride Jazz Festival, 970-728-7009, www.telluridejazz.org

Ah-Haa School, 970-728-3886, www.ahhaa.org

La Coçina de Luz, 970-728-9355, www.lacocinatelluride.com

More Favorite Telluride Restaurants

New Sheridan Chop House, 800-200-1891 and 970-728-4351, www.newsheridan.com

Cosmo, 970-728-1292, www.cosmotelluride.com

Rustico, 970-728-4026, www.rusticoristorante.com

La Marmotte, 970-728-6263, www.lamarmotte.com

Thank you to Ron Semrod for the interior photo of the Sheridan Opera House.

Night Out in Telluride Mountain Villlage

Great Room with a View on a Busier Night

I almost can’t wait for the ski season to end.  The key word there is almost.  I’d love for the skiing to go on and on but I’m also yearning to spend more time at my desk, something that is indeed a big challenge when the slopes lie right outside your door and you’re caught up in the ski fever that grips every mountain town from late November through a good part of April.  Plus I’ve been working a lot on the hill teaching skiing, a very rewarding job that not surprisingly leaves little energy for writing at the end of the day.

Then there’s the near grueling pace of the social life that one must endure in such a happening mountain resort.  No matter how much you try to stay in, there’s always a concert (often free!), a dinner, a party or an impromptu gathering to take in.  Telluride is a culturally rich, increasingly sophisticated town which consistently goes off at the close of the lifts.  

Steve and Me Partaking in Après Ski at The View (Note the G.M.'s Goggle Tan!)

The truth is, too, that a certain man, Steve Togni, entered my life last fall which has inevitably created even more of a distraction for me.  (Oh darn, I knew this would be the case!)  Fortunately he’s tall, dark, handsome, very smart, charming, a hot skier and appreciates much about me, including my writing and cooking.  He’s also a lover of cats, tea and travel.  All this and more makes him well worth the time invested.  He also happens to be Italian which scores him even more bonus points.  I thank Clara, my chubby little cat, for bringing us together since we really connected when I stopped into his lodge one day last September in search of her.  His lodge is Mountain Lodge, a topnotch hotel located just across the ski run from me (how convenient!) that as General Manager he runs with all the efficiency and grace of a Swiss tram gliding effortlessly over the mountain tops.

Although we have had many dates and perhaps even more quiet evenings at home, I thought I’d take the opportunity to report on the fun to be had in T-ride during one of our recent evenings out.  Of course we had to start at Mountain Lodge in its recently opened restaurant, The View.  I timed it perfectly since we sat in the wooded Great Room and gazed out at the peaks as the alpenglow bathed them in a wash that faded from cobalt to sky blue pink to steely grey as the sun set in the distance.  The fire crackled beside us in the immense stone fireplace of the lodge and we both felt particularly giddy, mostly because it had been a powder day that had blanketed the slopes in a glorious cushion of fluff.  It was also one of the first times we were able to sit and relax at the lodge.  (Thankfully I hadn’t made it a habit of “hanging out” there.)

I discovered that The View is known for its flights of wine, a presentation of three samplings of a class of nectars that allow you to indulge in your own private tasting.  I chose the Italian Sparkling Wine selection that I was sure would be quite fine since Paolo and Stefano Cancallini, the operators of The View, are renowned Italian restaurateurs in Telluride as well as importers of fine wines.  Steve quenched his thirst with a frosty pilsner because he had been lucky enough to work it hard all day on the slopes.  (You’ve got to get those powder days when you can, especially at the end of the season!)

We'll Save the Dip at the Lodge for Later!

We refrained from ordering some of their tempting apps such as bresaola, a thinly sliced cured beef, served with anchovy-stuffed olives, caper-filled red peppers, garlic cloves in EVOO and marinated grilled eggplant.  We almost folded with the tuna carpaccio served over crostini, but we knew we had to save our appetites for The Onyx, the signature restaurant of the newly christened Capella, the latest luxury hotel to open in Mountain Village, the more modern part of Telluride increasingly known for its chichi places of lodging, restaurants, boutiques and spas.  We didn’t have to travel far since this was to be an entirely Mountain Village soirée which had begun by the two of us crossing the ski slope hand-in-hand, from my place to the lodge.  Steve had his shuttle driver drop us off down the road at Capella and as we stepped inside the high-styled interior of this sleek establishment, I could tell we both enjoyed feeling like tourists in our own town.

The Onyx at Capella

Telluride has much to offer in terms of dining and it seems as though the standards are raised with the arrival of each new restaurant on the scene.  I had heard many rave reviews about The Onyx in the less than one month since it had opened, so I was eager to experience it myself.  Steve ordered the Creamy Wild Mushroom Risotto as a starter and promptly declared that it was one of the best he had ever tasted.  (Wow, that’s quite the endorsement, especially from an Italian!)  I delighted in a plate of Iberico Ham, served with goat cheese and poached kumquats.  The velvety Barbaresco that Steve selected accompanied this first course and our main dishes beautifully.  The menu places a heavy emphasis on red meat and as much as i was temped by the Kobe beef, I decided to go regional by ordering the Colorado lamb.  Steve settled on the Black Angus Filet that was as tender as first tracks down the mountain in fresh fallen pow.

View of Our Table Overlooking The Onyx Bar

We enjoyed congenial, expedient service throughout the meal as the evening passed seamlessly.  The contemporary-styled dining room buzzed with the sort of din that indicated that everyone was having a fine time.  We both marveled at the chocolate-y richness of the chef’s Warm Liquid Spanish Hot Chocolate Cake and almost as though he heard us singing his praises, Chef Kenny Gilbert appeared to say hello.  With a bio steeped in Ritz Carlton experience and stints at some of Europe’s finest restaurants, we came to better understand the breadth of his culinary offerings as well as his often innovative approach.  Then came the candy cart.  Wheeled in like a three-tiered Parisian pastry cart on steroids, this chariot of sweets was stocked with candy store favorites such as jelly beans, sour worms, marshmallows and more.  I almost sniffed at its commonplace offerings until I learned that Kenny gained much of his inspiration for the cart from Paul Bocuse’s candy caddy served up in his multi-Michelin-starred restaurant in Lyons.  (I’m not a snob, but I suppose more than a decade of living in France sometimes prompts me to have snobby moments.)

Chef Kenny Gilbert

A porcelain plate of chocolate-covered almonds and pretzels, dried fruits and white chocolate shavings was delicately served up for me.  Steve appeared even cuter than normal, respectfully poised in front of his plate of Swedish fish.  We relished every bite with surprising indulgence, savoring little sips of a late harvest Merlot from Colorado with every sweet.  We both greatly appreciated the dried strawberries and blueberries that rivaled any highfalutin house made confection typically offered at the end of such a fine repast.

Our plans to ride the gondola up to the ridge for a nightcap at Allred’s fizzled with our last bits of decadence.  Instead we settled on gazing at the full moon as we padded out of Capella.  We were happy we didn’t have far to go and grateful we had found our bliss in so many different ways in Telluride Mountain Village.

The View, 970-728-2413, www.mountainlodgetelluride.com

The Onyx, 970-369-0880, www.capellatelluride.com; click here to check out some beautiful images of The Onyx and other Capella highlights.

Other Recommended Mountain Village Dining Establishments

La Piazza, 970-728-8283, www.lapiazzadelvillagioristorante.com

The Hop Garden, 970-728-7467, www.tellurideskiresort.com/Tellski/info/on-mountain-dining

Note that Telluride Ski Resort has extended its season through April 12.  It’s also possible to find many other great places to ski out West through the end of April.  The spring skiing promises to continue to be fantastic throughout the month.