compiled by R A N DY W Y R ICK
The Hunter, circa 1960s
editor’s note: We’re not sure who this was, but we’re sure they did it.
ANYONE SEEN MY FEET?
The Gore Creek Valley has long been in the resort business. Dick Hauserman was Vail’s first permanent resident, but Joseph Brett of Leadville was the valley’s first settler. He learned it was a wonderful hunting and fishing area, so he started the first resort. Brett was guiding a hunt when he fell through the ice and his feet got frostbitten. He was taken to the big town in the area, Red Cliff, and the doctor amputated the front of his feet and threw them out the window. The last he saw was some dogs running off with his feet.
Vail’s Powers That Be gave the green light to produce a teenage movie called “Ski Party.” The Vail Corporation board voted on Jan. 6, 1965 to spend $8,085 to film it. We’re not sure if this was from the Ski Party production, but local characters made a low budget movie in the area and blew up a car, sending it flying over a cliff. The U.S. Forest Service and local law enforcement officials took a dim view of the whole thing. It was a little like Arlo Guthrie’s “Alice’s Restaurant,” because they had to pay a fine and pick up the garbage — pulling the wrecked, charred car out of the ravine and cleaning it up. Show business is tough.
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VAIL 50TH ANNIVERSARY G 2 012 K E E P S A K E E D I T I O N
We were living in the second house built in East Vail. This was about 1969 or 1970, before I-70 was built and when East Vail was in the middle of nowhere. It was a big snow year. There was no television and lots of times Vail Pass would be closed. So for fun we would go ski-joring behind our Toyota Land Cruiser. Then someone desecrated the pristine valley by placing an obnoxious billboard alongside the road, just about where the Vail Mountain School stands today. At the time it was in the middle of a pasture used by John Mahaney for his stables. This was the only billboard between Vail and Denver. It was huge. It advertised lodging and gas in orange reflector colors and certainly did not belong in our beautiful valley. So with nothing to do, my husband and I strapped on our crosscountry skis and backpacks. I carried a flashlight and he carried a chain saw. It was pitch black, with only the occasional headlight from a car along Highway 6 catching our movements. With each car that approached, I was sure it was the sheriff and we would be spending the night in jail. We skied through the snow to that billboard. It looked humongous when we looked at its height and the telephone-pole uprights that supported it. No problem, we decided. It had to come down. In the silence of the night, the only sound we heard was the blaring roar of the chain saw as it cut through those uprights. With cracks and splinters, that billboard listed to the east and then to the west, and then came crashing down in a mushroom cloud of snow. Ever notice that no other billboard has been erected? We’re pretty proud of that.
HUNTING IMAGE COURTESY OF MOUNT-N-FRAME