Chapter Eight
Christmas in Aspen is the most magical place. Even for the children. Sleigh rides in the country and carriage tours through town, showing off its Victorian heritage where the Silver Barons of the 1880's built their impressive homes, laden with gingerbread trims and trompe d'oeil stainglass windows. All adding to the Currier & Ives Christmas of it all.
The town is bustling this time of year. All the hotels are filled to the brim, always were, even during the economic downturns and global warming of the last ten years. Because even when there's little snow for skiing, Aspen still is magical. People from all over the world come here to enjoy the crisp (but never humid) air, the world renowned skiing, the music festival and hiking in the summer and its total ambiance.
As many a semi-native (this author included) has said, "I came over Independence Pass and looked down at this small town nestled among the mountains and I knew I was home. There's no other like Aspen, Colorado. I know. I've tried to find other places to live but I keep coming back."
One of the most impressive of the organizations in Aspen is Mountain Rescue. These folks are the crème de la crème of professionals in finding lost persons – in any kind of weather and at any altitude, from the ground or in their planes and helos. Their training surpasses even the emergency doctors waiting for their rescuees.
And among these experts is a 3 year old, bursting with energy and having the nose of a bloodhood. But Suzy is German Shepherd all the way. She has been awarded for valor many times with at least 8 lives saved due to her ability. At the moment the call came in though, this paragon was sound asleep, paws moving in deep dreaming. She immediately comes awake and looks at the team.
"We've got some lost people out near Ashcroft, Suzy. Ready?"
And with a woof, she's out the door.