Downhill Slope

Aspen struggles to recover

When the ski boom hit in the late 1960s, Aspen quickly emerged as its glamorous headquarters. Tourists flocked to the old Colorado silver-mining town turned winter resort, lured by the 11,300-ft. Aspen Mountain, the classy lodges and chic crowds. Its glittery, fast-lane image later included pricy real estate and such open cocaine use that it acquired the nickname "Toot City." Artists, ski bums and a coterie of rich and famous, including Actor Jack Nicholson and Troubadour John Denver, settled in what Denver dubbed "the sweet Rocky Mountain paradise." Now, as the ski craze cools and recession-fueled competition among Western resorts increases, hard times have intruded on paradise.

There are no longer snaking lines at the lifts feeding Ruthie's Run, Aspen's best-known trail. In the past year the landmark Red Onion saloon has closed, along with several other restaurants. Five lodges, including the 170-unit Continental Inn, are in the midst of foreclosure. Retail sales growth has slumped from the peak years of the 1970s, when profits grew at an annual rate of more than 15%. Owners of chic boutiques and eateries gripe that business is significantly down from last season. The "Silver Queen," as residents fondly refer to their town, even looks a bit bedraggled. Compared with accommodations in Vail, which now attracts more business, Aspen's once premier lodges seem cramped and aging. Says Boutique Owner Rita St. John: "People are paying $200 a night and getting a dump." There is no first-class resort hotel. Zoning and building limitations passed when the town was thriving have hobbled renovation and expansion efforts.

Not surprisingly, the business community and some townsfolk, who think Aspen (pop. 7,620) has been too complacent in the face of growing competition, want to spruce it up and launch a promotional campaign. Says Author Leon Uris, a 20-year resident: "We've been ho-humming it for years. We have to get competitive." But other residents, who want to preserve Aspen's small-town charm, are disturbed by calls for mass marketing. "We're a mature resort with a solid product," says Lodge Owner Allan Blomquist. "We don't need flamboyant hype."

Aspen faces a showdown next week in the debate over its future, when residents will vote in a special election on whether to impose a local business tax. The revenues, which could generate up o $1.5 million a year, would go into a fund to set up services to attract tourists. Examples: a computerized central reservation system for the area's lodges and an association to woo ski clubs and conventions. Even if the new tax is approved, Aspen faces an uphill battle. For one thing, the baby boomers who led the rush to the slopes are older now. "The skiing hotshots of the '60s are married now with three children," says Chamber of Commerce President Tom Clark. "We need to work harder to get them." Mindful of the family crowd, police have cracked down on overt cocaine use. Another problem: more resorts fighting for a stable pool of skiers. Since 1975 the number of ski areas in Colorado alone has snowballed from 27 to 35, and Aspen's share of the state pie has slid from 29.5% in 1972-73 to 15.7% last season.

On top of all this, Aspen needs to convince itself that its old ways will no longer work. "Greed dominates the town. There was an arrogance toward tourists that used to prevail," said Thomas Richardson, the former president of the Aspen Skiing Corp. "People put their heads in the sand and said, 'We're the best.' Suddenly, we're not No. 1 any more. Now Aspen has a reputation as a rip-off community." The town's troubles are not likely to lead to a bust similar to the one Aspen experienced after Congress repealed the Sherman Silver-Purchase Act in 1893. But the Silver Queen is, as Cab Driver Dave Knowles puts it, "getting a good dose of reality." This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so viewer discretion is required.