Last Saturday I experienced Highland Bowl and the infamous Cloud Nine restaurant as if for the first time, through the eyes of two new friends I met on the chairlift.
On yet another gorgeous spring-like day, I closed my computer and drove up to Aspen. The Bowl was calling. It was going to be my third day in a row hiking it solo, so when I met Bob and Chris on the Loge chairlift, two very entertaining professionals from Ohio enjoying the last day of their annual ski trip, I joined them for their first Bowl encounter before they headed home to the real world, where Bob has completed more than 600 executive and board searches for global financial institutions and Chris creates chemical blends for a chemical company.
One of the many reasons I live here is that I love small-town living where everybody knows your name. It comforts me to know that we locals mostly look after one another, but it’s important to me not to get too comfortable and to expand my horizons by meeting the incredible people who come through whenever I can. Having a lifestyle blog gives me that outlet, and one of my favorite pastimes is meeting adventurous travelers, experiencing Aspen through their eyes and adding to their experience by bringing them into my world.
The Hike
While we waited for the snowcat that eliminates about a third of the hike, I pointed up at what might at first glance give false hope of a people mover taking skiers to the peak. As your eyes focus, it becomes clear that the moving black line is a procession of hikers booting their way up the 782-foot vertical spine of the Bowl, which leads to 250 acres of some of the best in-bounds big-mountain skiing in the country. Bob and Chris seemed able to stomach that it would take about 40 minutes to reach the 12,392-foot summit. It didn’t occur to me to mention that once you’re at the summit, there’s no hiking back down.
After we unloaded from the cat, I suggested Bob and Chris not wait for me to strap my skis on. The hike can be humbling for first-timers, so I like to hang back. Off they trudged, skis thrown over their shoulders. Had I noticed earlier that they didn’t have straps to carry their skis on their backs, I would have sent them to the ski patrol shack, which sells straps to those who’d rather not shoulder their skis the entire way up. Not Bob and Chris, though. Their minds were made up, and they were ready to go.
Before the final hump, we reconvened. Bob and Chris were exhilarated, but when we reached the summit, the mood changed. Bob, in complete awe of the majestic views of Castle Creek, Aspen Mountain and the 14,000-foot Maroon Bells, looked past the boundary line into the steep and deep backcountry and froze like the Abominable Snowman. “THAT’S WHERE WE’RE GOING?” he exclaimed, followed by a firm statement that he was NOT about to ski that, and he proceeded to exit stage left, hiking back down against the stream of hikers coming up.
I had never thought about it before, but there are no signs telling you that once you start hiking, you’re committed for the long haul, and I can only imagine that fear rolling in like a ten-foot wave you weren’t expecting. I tried to tell him that where I was taking them was far gentler than the terrain he was looking at, but he was already gone. Solid gone. Leaning in to Chris, I suggested he go talk to his friend. “You mean talk him off the ledge?” Chris replied. “Nahhh, he’ll stop eventually.” Not wanting Bob to get too far down before he came to his senses, I asked a ski instructor to gently redirect my new friend, and he did, coaxing Bob back to the top.
We began our descent, slowly working our way down into North Woods in search of the gentlest terrain, with promises of beer in the foreseeable future. Bob has torn cartilage in his knee and preferred the groomed runs from earlier to this steep, bumpy terrain.
Cloud Nine
When we finished, I announced it was time for the party, and we skied down to Cloud Nine, the best place for après-ski in Aspen, as long as you don’t mind skiing to the bottom in a champagne-soaked state. We started with a charcuterie plate, and Bob treated us to a couple of bottles of nice pinot noir in celebration of new friends and the amazing things that happen when you challenge yourself. And yes, the snack turned into dancing on chairs and getting soaked by endlessly flowing, spouting bottles of champagne.
It was a day to remember. Even though Bob won’t have that iconic photo of himself standing proud at the peak among Tibetan prayer flags and a magnificent backdrop of mountain peaks to show his friends, that’s OK. He doesn’t need a photograph to remind him of what he accomplished. The memory will be embedded in his mind forever, ready to summon the next time he has to choose between taking the challenge and taking the easier, groomed route.
How to Hike Highland Bowl
Is it for you? Highland Bowl is expert-only terrain, with pitches up to 48 degrees. If you aren’t comfortable on double-black-diamond runs, save it for another day. And remember Bob: once you start up, the only way down is skiing the Bowl.
Getting there: From the base of Aspen Highlands, ride the Exhibition lift and then the Loge Peak lift to the top. Check the Aspen Snowmass app before you go to make sure the Bowl is open, since ski patrol closes it for avalanche control and high winds.
The snowcat: A free snowcat runs from near the top of Loge Peak to the start of the bootpack when conditions allow. It cuts about a third of the hike, so take it if it’s your first time.
The hike: It’s about 782 vertical feet from the cat drop-off to the 12,392-foot summit, marked by Tibetan prayer flags. Plan on 20 to 50 minutes depending on your fitness, and about 40 minutes for most people. Go at your own pace, step out of the bootpack if you need to rest, and let faster hikers pass.
What to bring: A ski strap or backpack to carry your skis or board. Straps are sold at the ski patrol hut at the top of Loge Peak, and patrollers will help you strap up. Bring water, sunscreen and sunglasses, because goggles fog on the way up, plus a neck gaiter for the wind. Dress in layers you can unzip, since you’ll heat up fast even on a cold day, and unbuckle your boots for the climb.
At the top: Keep a hand on your gear. It’s windy up there, and skis and boards can slide right off the back side. Snap your summit photo, catch your breath and take in the Maroon Bells.
Where to ski: First-timers should stick with the gentler lines and work down into North Woods. On powder days, locals head to the G-Zones on the north side, where the trees hold the best snow. Ozone runs straight down the gut and stays chalky when it hasn’t snowed. Always respect patrol ropes and closures.
After: Ski down to Cloud Nine for après, but book ahead and wear something you don’t mind getting soaked in champagne.
