By any standards, the United States boasts some truly worthwhile winter getaways, from the blue shores of Lake Tahoe, to all those East Coast resorts that try to compete with their Western counterparts yet never do. Out in Colorado, a state known for its generous mountain profile and equally epic outdoors scene, a major holding of winter locales are routinely bustling with activity and serving up satisfied customers. Bullz-Eye was given the chance to experience a few days at Breckenridge, one of the premier resorts Colorado has to offer, during one of its most enjoyable times of the year: Ullr Fest.
When I first got the email regarding Ullr (pronounced Ooler) Fest, I was in a state of complete darkness as to the meaning. In the back of my head, crude images of massive stone hammers and snowy, bearded warriors filled the void, vainly trying to conjure up any sort of applicable knowledge. It turned out my premonitions weren’t completely off, and the whole celebration was in fact Breckenridge’s way of honoring the Norse god of snow, Ullr.
All people who share a love for the outdoors have some sort of relationship with the weather. Cyclists pray for absence of rain, surfers yearn for hearty swells and so on. Snowboarders and skiers have that similar connection, yet take it to a whole other Bobby and Whitney sort of magnitude. The degree of snowfall can literally make or break half of the year for those who passionately delegate an entire season to winter sports. On a grander scale, resorts can lose significant amounts of revenue due to lackluster precipitation and the disinterested wake that follows.
So what actually happens at Ullr Fest? Are there droves of cute females walking the streets, clad only in fur bikinis and Viking helmets? Is the whole town mobilized into a party mode that rivals New Year’s Eve levels of intensity? And better yet, what does the whole experience say about Breckenridge and its ability to provide a worthwhile winter vacation? To make a long story short, the whole week was quite an epic adventure, but to adequately answer those questions, an introduction must be made about the team who participated, because seldom are the times when an individual alone is able to truly breathe in all the possibilities a new area has to offer:
Press:
Dane, Thrillist: More or less average build, with a clever and hilarious way of adding to every conversation and setting. Mannerisms similar to comedian Dane Cook.
Seth, Maxim: Nickname earned due to his uncanny facial similarity to Seth Rogen; if it weren’t for his towering height, he may actually be a full-fledged twin.
PR:
Drew: Pleasantly down-to-Earth, yet seriously extensive in her knowledge and passion for the area. Drew Barrymore doppelganger.
Daphne: Beautiful, interesting and once from Seattle. Being that Martin Crane’s physical therapist is just about the only female I know from the area, the nickname will have to stick, and yes, that was a “Frasier“ reference.
Kanye: The mastermind behind the entire organization and execution of the trip. A true professional, and much like the aforementioned rapper, Chicago raised.
Early frustrations
Do you ever have nightmares depicting missed flights or late/botched airport arrivals? Both seemed to rear their ugly heads last Tuesday when I stared in disbelief as my phone relayed a text from my “ride.”
“Shit came up, can’t give you a ride. Sorry man.”
Can’t give me a ride? Two hours ago would have been a perfect time to drop such a bomb, but not now. Oh well, I quickly thought, all is not lost – Go-Go Gadget Drive Myself. I flew down to the car and punched it aggressively for the next hour, cursing the heavily inundated 19th Avenue of San Francisco and looking at every red light as if I had never seen such an atrocity before.
As I neared the airport, the horrible realization was that I had zero time to drop my car in nearby Millbrae and instead was forced to throw up a Hail Mary. I drove straight into 2-hour parking, tossed my luggage outside, and then left forty dollars, the parking ticket, and my car keys in a tissue box deep inside the trunk. The final touch was the front door unlocked and a text message to my buddy who lived a short distance away, pleading with him to grant me this one favor.
Colorado, finally
After the day unexpectedly morphed into such a hectic beast, I was overjoyed when the plane touched down in Denver and I was soon aboard the hour and 40 minute shuttle towards Breckenridge. Something needs to be said about the drive up to Breckenridge. The road lazily tilts upward and soon you get the feeling that an ominous space mission is being made into the dark skies, ear-popping and all.
It was throughout the drive that I found myself laughing at our shuttle driver, Ted; not at him personally, but at the routine which followed whenever he chose to make but the slightest change in heater settings. He’d crank the dial ever so slightly and almost immediately, a reprieve would echo from the shadowy passengers in the rear.
“Umm, Ted, can you turn that down a hair?” or, “Ted, could you make it blow less? Like, the temperature is okay, but there is a lot of air coming out, right on my head,” and further, “Ted, the passenger in the back would like it to be a bit colder. Thanks.” This pattern repeated itself multiple times, to the point where the lady in the front seat reached over and patted his shoulder, saying, “You’re doing great, Ted.” This made me laugh.
Denver to Breckenridge: 1.5-2 hours
Despite a majority of the drive’s airtime being given to petty heat adjustments, there were a good ten minutes of conversation between an elderly couple and myself regarding my lodgings: Doubletree by Hilton. The wife assured me that I would be flabbergasted by the hotel’s layout, and that the rooms were “all the way in the back,” said in a tone that seemed to convey my room was only accessible after a series of advanced rock climbs and flaming obstacles.
Regardless, her ranting meant nothing to me at the time, and once I made it to my room and reflected on the steps I took to get there, I concluded that she was either highly neurotic, completely insane, or high on PCP – either answer would have sufficed.
Overall, I was very pleased with my stay at the Doubletree. The lobby was laid out in a comfortable arrangement of couches and chairs, all anchored around the large fireplace which sat to the right of the front desk. A restaurant/bar lay directly in front of the entrance and offered a tasty breakfast, although $18 dollar buffets are a tad ridiculous.
First impressions
After I set my bags down in my room, I headed out in the cold to meet the people who had, up until now, appeared only as email addresses in my inbox. I caught the shuttle to Fatty’s, a pizzeria and pasta place right down in the main part of town. The free shuttle service was something that offered endless satisfaction, seeing as walking at night when the temperature were just above zero was not the most pleasant experience.
At Fatty’s, all but Seth were sitting at the restaurant, pizzas and drinks spread out across a large wooden table. I greeted the group with relief and sat down for a beer and some pizza. Drew was overflowing with kindness as she made sure I had adequate food and drink, all while inquiring on what my trip over was like.
“It was a bit hectic,” I let them know, masking my nerves as memories of traffic-filled accelerations and robotic airline attendants flashed in my mind.
Now that the team was almost fully acquainted (Seth wouldn’t arrive until the next morning), we parted ways once again and headed back to the hotel to gain some sleep before the following day’s events.
Looking to rent your ski/snowboard gear?
One of the most convenient aspects to the Doubletree was the fact that there was a well-equipped rental shop connected to the lobby. Even the most civilian attire could be remedied with a trip to the rental shop – a mere 15 steps from the fireplace. Now there was literally nothing to excuse your lazy ass from not hitting the slopes.
Curious about hotel-to-slopes distances? I know that by experience, I can only speak for the Doubletree, however the layout of Breckenridge was not rocket science, and it was easy to see the hotels that weren’t a stone’s throw from skiable terrain were few and far between. It seemed that every lodging and employee in the area was cognizant of the fact that skiing/snowboarding was a central fixture to the entire winter Breckenridge experience, and making accessibility to the mountain easy for visitors was of the utmost priority.
In our case, the time it took from the front lobby to the chairlift, if walking at a brisk pace and getting onto your skis/snowboard in a timely manner, was about five minutes or less. It was no more than a parking lot of walking before you could throw down your sliding apparatus and get buckled in for a fun ride.
The mountain
Breckenridge boasts a massive landscape, with almost 2,500 acres of skiable terrain. On almost every run we took, from the most modest blue to the steepest double black, high-speed lifts catapulted us high above the tree line. Resorts that have the means to make such upgrades are always appreciated because there are few things more excruciating then having your already frozen corpse be pelted mercilessly with snowfall as you slowly expire aboard the lift that has a single-speed capability similar to that of a 90-year-old with a walker; and don’t forget the bad ankle. On top of that, I never experienced a wait in line more than a couple of minutes – something that cannot be said when analyzing wait times at some of Lake Tahoe’s resorts.
Dane and I were given a guide, Ben, and he was stellar in his knowledge of the mountain and enthusiasm for Breckenridge. He would be the first of many I met during the stay that seemed to be completely elated at what they were doing and where they were doing it at. Breckenridge pride, perhaps?
First real night out
After an amazing day on the slopes, our group retreated back to the hotel to get ready for a night out on the town. I took this time as an opportunity to not only shower up, but walk some of Main Street. I was in the market for some forgotten toiletries and perhaps a good bottle of whiskey, both of which were available a couple of blocks from the first light I came to.
Downtown Breckenridge is pleasant, to say the least. A multitude of shops, bars and restaurants line the icy main road and offer up an inviting, lively atmosphere. If unmoving, cleverly lit appearances weren’t enough, the constant churning of people, all ping-ponging from door to door, was the icing on the cake of hospitality. Taking all of this into account, I made my way into a small market and purchased the needed supplies and a decent portion of whiskey – which sadly only about a shot or two made it out of the glass.
The Dating Game: Breckenridge style
Prior to this night, a heads up was given to each of our group on whether we wanted to participate in one of the Ullr events: a dating game put on at a bar on Main Street. I chose to remain a spectator throughout the scene, yet Daphne ended up behind the curtain as three eligible bachelors took their seats on the right side of the stage.
To her credit, she had some pretty entertaining questions. “If you were to have a mating call to attract me, what would it be?”
Bachelor #1: Awkward lion roar.
Bachelor #2: Not even memorable enough to recall, the guy was a douchebag.
Bachelor #3: “Ca-caw! Ca-caw!” He immediately won my vote, and apparently hers as well because she ended up going for him after about ten extra minutes of interrogation.
Restaurant #1: Twist
With a slight buzz reeling from the Dating Game, we made our way across the snowy sidewalks and down towards an awesome restaurant called Twist. The food was insane, and I mean that with the most positive of connotations. The chef, Matt, was a great guy, and he took the time to come up and hang out with us for the tail end of our meal. The drink menu was extensive and, coupled with the comfort food we had just enjoyed, left my mind and body in a happy place for the rest of the evening.
The big one: Ullr Parade
Before this day, when I pictured dog sledding in my head, I had little idea that it would be as fun and enjoyable as it actually turned out to be. Daphne picked up Seth, Dane, myself and Heidi (a great looking British girl who was new to our team that day) before making a short drive to the outer reaches of Breckenridge.
Once there, we confirmed our reservations and waited outside in the snow for a few minutes, excitedly trying to cast gazes towards the barking that emanated from behind the trees. Not five minutes had passed before three sleds flew by us, all towed by sets of eight dogs, two on each side of a line. A boyish excitement caused my heart rate to spike briefly, and we made our way over to the Huskies.
I volunteered to “drive” first, and soon Daphne and I clamored aboard the sled and waited for our guide, Tim, to give us the green light. Once he had done so, I let off the spiked brake and the dogs dug their paws into the snow, pushing powerfully off the ground and vaulting us down the path. The sheer cardiovascular power of these dogs would make a doped Tour de France winner blush, and they soon led us around a five-mile trek, with each set of two people getting a turn – one to drive and one to sit in. The rest sat in the seats, which Tim pulled by snowmobile and watched.
Watching did pay dividends, though, and before long, a crash was at hand. Dane and Seth were amidst a fast section of the course, and right as they were taking a hairpin right turn with considerable speed, Seth lost contact with the sled, briefly tried to run himself up to the current speed he was travelling through the air at, then made a chest-thumping collision with the snow, all while Dane and the dogs kept hurtling down the path. At this point, everyone behind the snowmobile was dying with laughter, yet Seth played it off as a good sport.
The actual Ullr Parade
Despite the collateral fun that was being had, the main focus of this trip was to absorb the events surrounding the Ullr Parade, which is basically Burning Man, meets random state parade, meets Bud Light. That being said, I had a phenomenal time at the parade, and the entire day was hands down my favorite of the entire trip.
Our team had been given generously bedazzled Ullr helmets for the festivities, and with these we made our way past the 14,000 spectators and towards the announcing area where we would be judging the parade.
Before we had the chance to view any floats, however, a Guinness Book of World Records was being broken right in our midst. Prior to this exact moment in time, the record for longest Shot-ski was held by an Arizonan fraternity at 167 feet. We were now watching as countless Ullr paraders held aloft a 312 foot Shot-ski and downed a new world record, all to the approvingly wild shouts of the crowd.
Once in our judging area, with cold Bud Lights in hand, the slow procession of whacky floats began. Our criteria was loose and mostly completed in light-hearted humor, yet there was a $1000 prize to the winning float, so I made sure to stay meticulous with my judgments.
At first, I was a bit disappointed in the contestants. A few boring entries rolled past – trucks with waving crews and half-ass decorations. As the minutes ticked on, however, the heavy hitters made their way onto the scene and soon enough, a smile was plastered to my face as I debated each float’s positives with the guy standing next to me. “Clearly a good design; not so much fun, though.” I loved that “fun” was one of the categories, and I routinely equated this to how hammered each contestant in a particular group was, and the amount of cheers they mustered from the crowd.
Dinner #2: Relish
The owners of Twist also run a restaurant called Relish, which turned out to be my favorite of all the dining experiences for the week. They had a ton of great wine, and being a beer enthusiast, even some decent IPA. The setting was formal enough to radiate a sense of class, yet casual to where you didn’t feel out of place in, say, a massive bejeweled Ullr helmet.
As dinner progressed, large “booms” became barely audible and I was informed that fireworks were going off. I took a minute to stand on the balcony and watch as the explosions lit up the night sky. What was to come of the rest of the night?
Gold Pan-1, Tom-0
After exiting Relish, our group drank for a bit at another bar and then progressed back down Main Street. Crowds were still prevalent, and given the day’s festivities, I was in a terrific and energetic mood; there was more to be had of this night. We soon stopped at the entrance to a bar called the Gold Pan, which was crawling with people. I looked at the scene and the whole building looked like one giant beast, writhing around with energy.
At that point, I made the decision to get into that movement; I didn’t really know what I was going to do, but I knew I couldn’t really go wrong with two horns jutting out from my helmet and a healthy optimism. The rest of the group had their reasons for not joining. Drew’s husband was celebrating his birthday, Seth was still nursing his altitude sickness, and Dane, my last wingman option, came to the conclusion that this was not something he could handle right now.
“No worries,” I assured him, “We probably couldn’t even hear each other in there anyway.” With that, I stepped inside the bar, Han Solo. The events that followed over the next four hours are about as concrete as a Lance Armstrong testimony, but I did make some observations regarding true bar-raging in Breckenridge.
First off, the scene is diverse. I started off with a mature and interesting conversation regarding environmentalism and the recent Drake’s Bay case, then minutes later deteriorated into a beer pong frenzy. I found that juxtaposition to be very appealing, that there were stable and mellower crowds rubbing shoulders with the college-age ski bums. It wasn’t a clear cut distinction, like, “This is a hipster dive bar,” or “That is a yuppie hangout.”
In bed, thank God
I awoke the next morning with a reasonable vice grip on my skull, inexorably squeezing my dehydrated brain and bringing to light some of the last memories of the night. Once again, the shuttle service had saved the day and brought me back to the hotel with expedience.
After telling my body to shut up, I gathered my snow gear and hit the mountain for a few runs before meeting the crew at One Ski Hill Place to take a tour of the building. The resort was very high-class, with homeowners privy to some truly awesome amenities such as an aquatic center, media room, rejuvenation center, and a private bowling alley straight out of “Kingpin.”
One Skill Hill Place, with its services being available to any members, represented to me the trend that is currently playing out with a lot of winter resorts: all access. Vail Resorts has been aggressively expanding their land holdings in not only Colorado, but Tahoe as well. As of today, they own Breckenridge, Vail, Beaver Creek, Keystone, Heavenly, Kirkwood and Northstar. Additional runs are being added in Breckenridge as well, with a new lift set to open in the near future.
All of these seemingly monopolizing business practices can be at first a bit shocking, but for the skier/visitor/traveler, this means nothing but bonus access. With an Epic Pass, all of the aforementioned mountains are up for grabs, and if you don’t want to throw all the chips down for that, other pass options are available.
Final night
Our last night in town involved a dinner at the delicious Blue River Bistro, and the following description is really all that is needed to convey how tasty dinner was: Marinated flank steak, asparagus, tomatoes & green onions tossed in a spicy Chipotle cilantro pesto sauce topped with avocado over penne.
One last hurrah was to be had, and Drew decided that the Absinthe Bar was a must. A lingering attitude of nausea persisted within me, causing some pessimism about her decision, but it was the last night, I relented, and we were once again walking the strip.
It was at this point that Seth’s altitude sickness really made itself apparent. “How much farther is it?” he nervously questioned as we rounded our second block. “It should just be right up here, why? Are you okay? Oh, Seth! I feel so bad, you’ve been sick this whole time!” Drew was completely earnest in her sympathy, and I admitted to feeling equally bad for the guy. It seemed his trip had been an endless episode of nausea and light-headedness; he wasn’t even able to make it up skiing.
Seth was eventually shuttled off after we said our goodbyes, then, one man down, we headed into the Absinthe Bar. With 90s music serenading the entire bar, we reminisced on the week as the Absinthe stirred up some excitement. I thought back on what my expectations had been, both of Ullr Fest and the town itself. Was Ullr Fest something I would seek out on my own? Would I gather a crew of my buddies and plan for a ski trip to Breckenridge in the future?
The answer is hell yes; Breckenridge is everything a ski town should be: bustling with activity, commercially expanding, epic in its collection of events/things to do, and filled with some of the most kind, healthy-looking people I’ve ever seen occupy a single space.
