Word: aspens
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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...dough at Stowe lies mostly in the snow," crooned a banjo-toting minnesinger before the inevitable open fireplace of that famed ski retreat in Vermont last week. And the same truth was self-evident in thousands of other resorts around the world from Aspen to Zermatt, where the ski slopes resembled a lavishly and gaily costumed flea circus...
...vertical drop. But grandma lived in town, and I used to ski downhill to pick up goodies." Still only a part-time skier, Ferries was good enough at 14 to place ninth in the slalom at the U.S. junior championships. In 1957 he packed off to Aspen, Colo., to polish his technique. He improved so quickly that he decided to risk his savings on an Alpine tour. Ferries still shudders at the recollection. "I fell in all the down hills. I was tense, and my reflexes always failed." By 1960 Ferries was still falling-at Kitzbühel, St.-Moritz...
What J. D. Salinger is, is a phony, and it is by no means inconceivable that what drives him to such extremes of reclusiveness is simple self-knowledge, inasmuch as Mr. Salinger must surely have the windiest conscience yet granted to mortal man, the onslaught of the aspen-hinged tongue of which would drive any man to flight and concealment...
...Paul's Church was built in Aspen, 60 miles across the mountains, when Aspen was a booming mine town instead of the ski-and-culture resort it is today. In 1908, after the boom's collapse had emptied it, the church was moved to Marble, which was having a boom of its own. St. Paul's belonged to the Episcopalians, but after Marble's once famous quarries*closed down, in 1941, the Episcopal Church stopped using it, and other denominations - Roman Catholics, Methodists, Presbyterians, Congregationalists, United Brethren, Dutch Reformed, Mor mons - worshiped there from time...
...afternoons, Painter made the martinis (while Conrad "held the vermouth a bit downwind"). With Painter playing the harmonica and Conrad the guitar, the children sang till suppertime and then climbed into their sleeping bags. On other days, the Painters and Conrads walked among the ponderosa pine and the aspen trees, past berries and pink dianthus and lupine and wild roses, yarrow and wild strawberry and kitten ears and vetch. Though most campers swear that the forest is a world of green-muffled silence, it is actually full of noise: the constant cry of gulls and other water birds, the chit...