Aspen leaves glimmer golden against evergreen backdrops. Chutes of yellow avalanche down mountainsides. Blessed with a four-day weekend and a virgin credit card, my wife, Dianne, and I embark on a pilgrimage to observe Colorado's autumn alchemy. In summer, it rings with music. Between summer and winter, the town winds down like an exhausted alarm.
Restaurants seat without reservations.
Stores advertise clearance sales. Not for the acrophobic, the unprotected roadway crawls up a naked mountainside, using three sharp switchbacks to reach its 3,665-metre apex. Fir and spruce cast dollops of jade green, the sky hovers sapphire blue, and mountains tower burgundy red and battleship grey. Entering Aspen, we pass homes the size of small hotels. On its main streets, renovated brick buildings stand interleaved with pseudo-Victorian and modern structures.