When the date change of Wintersköl was first announced, I was amenable but not entirely convinced. Upon further consideration, I’m all in. Let our esteemed local historians make note: 2024 will forever be known as the year that our love for winter was so strong, so real and so uncontrollable, that we held no less than two Wintersköl celebrations that year — one in January, and another in December.
And they said Aspen was no longer a real ski town. My understanding of the origins of Wintersköl, some 74 years ago, is that the event was inspired as a way to drum-up business in the post Christmas lull of the tourism cycle. I can remember thinking to myself, some dozen years ago, that we were so busy in January that Wintersköl had arguably backfired; we had gone from a time where a welcome respite had been replaced with a continuation of Christmas week mayhem.
Tsunamis of Australians and Brazilians crashed upon our snowy shores, and the locals were gasping for air in between pummelings by the relentless waves. In a way, Wintersköl — the January version, was a victim of Aspen’s own success. As a result, the event lost the pizazz and due irreverence of yesteryear’s more boisterous, freewheelin’ celebrations.
Wintersköl is a mirror reflection of our town’s overall health in that regard. The parade vanished, as did the ski splash, skijoring and the snow motocross, to name a few. I used to love seeing the Budweiser Clydesdales clomp through town during Winters.
