Roaring Sports founding editor steps down and reflects on one year of sport in the Roaring Fork Valley
In 1969, Ed Bastian, my father, arrived into Aspen in a beat up truck
he had been driving across the country. He still remembers pulling into
town on a summer evening — the sun hanging low, the cross-light casting
shadows against the brick buildings, a breeze flooding down from
Independence Pass, Aspen trees flickering. He set up a tent in
Conundrum for the summer, living a few feet from a creek, drinking its
soft sound in the evening — mornings drenched in dew, late afternoon
storms, air that chills your chest with every breath. After years of
wandering through Asia, living in Tibetan monasteries, backpacking
around the world, and seeking adventure after adventure, he had found
home.
So have I.
This is where I was raised. And those of us who have spent their youth
growing among these mountains never truly leave. Sure, we may sojourn
abroad, study in the big cities and wade in foreign waters, but, there
is part of us that remains here - here when the town empties in
September and we ride our bikes down the middle of the leaf-littered
streets - here when the first snow falls over the mountains and we
quietly smile to ourselves - here for the first run down Ruthie's,
letting the skis open and glide down the hill - here for the muddy
springs we curse, and for the bitterly quick summers that come and go
before we even realize it.
This is Aspen. And I have news for the disbelievers out there: Aspen is not dead.
Over the past year, I chased nearly every single sport in this valley.
I have shadowed Word Cup skiers, interviewed the X-Game studs, seen
Aspen's football team ascend the ranks, written about more basketball
games than I can count, climbed in Rifle, cycled up the Pass, and more.
After being away for college, I was welcomed back into the community by
those that try to preserve it: Athletes. Every week I had the pleasure
of entering the lives of those who take to the field or mountain. And
every week I came away with new friends, perspectives and stories. But,
somehow, on the fringes of my work, I came across those who argued:
Aspen has lost its soul. Or, Aspen is dead. Or, this town has changed
too much.
Well guess what, people have been saying this since the creation of
Aspen. In the '50s, they said the town was changing too quickly. In the
'70s, they said the town was overrun with hippies. In the '90s, they
said you should have seen Aspen in the '80s. And now, the litany of
complaints continues - too rich, too many Texans, too conservative, too
liberal, ski passes too expensive. According to many "old time locals,"
a designation that seems to carry a bizarre amount of weight here,
Aspen is simply finished. Say goodbye.
Sure, you can argue this. But, honestly, I have seen otherwise. Earlier
this spring, I spent an afternoon at Aspen High School with a group of
graduating seniors that were the best athletes in their class. They
were simply remarkable. I spoke with Aspen's greatest football player,
Tucker Eason, about his love for art and literature. I spoke with star
softball player, Grace Seigle, about her goal of working in the Peace
Crops when she graduates and giving back to the community. I spoke with
Colorado Basketball Player of the Year Cory Parker about the time he
takes to mentor kids and provide leadership to the children that need
help in the community. Not only was each student a tremendously gifted
athlete, but intelligent, thoughtful and engaged in the world. They
cared deeply about the environment, about the future of the country
and, of course, about the town they grew up in.
So I will say this: Aspen does not live among the complaining
curmudgeons. No, Aspen lives among our youth, among their dreams, among
the citizens that they are becoming. They are truly the Aspen Idea.
They are exactly what Walter Paepcke had in mind when he developed the
singular, spectacular founding principles of this town. Of course the
houses may be bigger, the Range Rovers more present on the streets. But
that aspect of Aspen has always been - it paved our streets, built our
schools and gave us jobs such that we could settle in the valley.
You need to look beyond the glitter and glamour. The snow is the same.
Running up Smuggler in the late evening is the exact same. The
mountains have not changed. Sitting under an aspen tree outside of the
music festival in the summer has not changed.
We live in Aspen for the unchanging elements of this environment. It
brought us here. The core of what we are about will not dissolve. It
can't.
Now, onto another subject.
As many of you know, I am stepping down from my job at the Aspen Daily
News. It has been an unforgettable run. In creating Roaring Sports, I
tried to bring a new voice to the local sporting community, giving ink
to those athletes that may never have gotten the press they deserved.
This being said, I would like to give praise to those who gave me the
opportunity to start Roaring Sports: A million thanks to Troy Hooper,
Catherine Lutz and David Cook for taking a chance on a young writer who
was hungry to learn the craft. To Christine Benedetti and Damien
Williamson, who will take over Roaring Sports and further the product.
To John Glover for his artful designs. To Heather Rousseau and Zach
Ornitz for providing Roaring Sports with more gorgeous images than I
can count.
To columnist and friend Corby Anderson who has been writing in Roaring
Sports since the first issue, and is developing into one of the most
frighteningly unique voices in the valley and beyond. To roommate, dear
friend, editor and forever partner in this exhausting writing game,
Andrew Travers, who may prove to be among the most gifted writers I may
ever know, period.
Lastly, I thank my family, who has read everything I have ever written, and supported my every sentence, good or bad.
I will return, as all of us from here do, in time. Until then, it has
been an honor and pleasure to have written for all of you.
This is only the beginning.
Signing off,
Jonathan Winslow Bastian
