The Anti-Aspen

Dave, a free spirit who sells his own pottery and displays a lovely collection of seashells on his dashboard, thought we might be able to traverse our way to something a bit easier. Instead, we found only a wall of trees and an even narrower chute. Without a word, Dave carved his way down on his snowboard, leaving me alone to consider the wisdom of the ski industry's exhortation to "ski within your limits."

But here is the fundamental truth of such situations: At some point, the only thing to do is turn your skis downhill and trust that your skiing ability responds to the imminent threat of death. And after a deep breath and a mumbled profanity, that is precisely what I opted to do.

If such ill-considered decisions turn out badly, as mine often do, there is a therapeutic option in Pagosa Springs, the best-equipped jumping-off point for Wolf Creek. The town, a half-hour southwest of the ski area, features hot springs that have been routed into 16 mineral baths, the hottest of which hit 112 degrees on the night I visited.

The primary source of the water is a bubbling geothermal caldron that is literally a bottomless pit; its measurers reportedly gave up after searching 1,500 feet downward without finding the bottom. Revered by the Ute Indians for their healing powers, the mineral waters have been said to cure everything from arthritis to kidney ailments.

Mark and I headed there to soak our sore ski muscles, realizing only when we arrived that it was Valentine's Day. As two semi-macho, twenty-something males, we were a bit self-conscious to be traipsing half-naked through drifting tendrils of steam, soaking along with amorous pairs celebrating their couplehood.

People were, you know, looking at us.

Like much of the town's tourist infrastructure, the bath complex is of relatively recent vintage. Since the dawn of the new millennium, Pagosa Springs has added three fast-food chains and expanded from one stoplight to five. Over about the past five years, the main strip has also sprouted bakeries, Birkenstock dealers and restaurants offering espresso and gourmet pizza.

All of this indicates that Pagosa Springs has finally been discovered. For the time being, however, it has not been overrun. Except on major holidays, night life is still very much a locals' scene, involving a country-style dance hall and a few bars full of bikers and rough-neck construction workers.

And since Wal-Mart has not yet colonized the area, Pagosa's main drag is still a legitimate business district with an independent bookshop, old-time drug and department stores, and a single-screen movie theater. In any case, a little development is not necessarily a bad thing. The town now boasts a number of good restaurants in addition to the venerable Pizza Hut and Malt Shoppe.

And growth has also brought other advantages, according to Pam Schoemig, owner of a local B&B. Before, Schoemig said, shopping options were so limited "you would be hard-pressed to find a pair of underwear or just a plain old pair of shoes" in town.

That, it seems, has changed. Luckily, it hasn't yet changed too much.

It is impossible to remember how many femur-snapping noises I made during my runs through the Alberta Lift area. Until this lift opened in January 2000, the spot was sufficiently remote that a Snowcat had to tow skiers back to the more developed part of the mountain. Even with lift access, though, the area retains its backcountry feel, and skiing it involves ducking through glade after glade of pine trees.