It is always interesting to stay at a high end resort area in the off season. I have been to Aspen many times off season, and I am happy to do this, as I get a clearer picture of the resort culture that exists -- and how each town -- basically all perceived as ski towns, bonded by snow, differ in theme and texture from the others. Vail of all places is a town in process -- much building going on -- Solaris, the Ritz Carlton and The Four Seasons, are all projects that will be finished next year.

The thing that separates Vail from other places I have visited in Colorado, is its intimate village like atmosphere. I grew up in a village, and as I have grown older, miss the intimacy, and accessibility of neighbors, wagging dogs, and needed services. Park City used to be like this, evidently -- one of my colleagues said that when he came to live there in 1972, there were more dogs than people. Vail has a feel like this -- there are dogs, mostly on leash, or sitting in windows or on storefront steps. One of my associates bent down to pet a dog sitting in front of a store, and when she stopped petting the dog, the dog walked right along with us for a few minutes. There was, also, a pleasant briskness in the air, as it is 8200 feet high -- so for those of us Valley-Floor-Of-The-Rockies people, we have to walk more slowly -- and walking and talking BOTH can be a drain and a strain.

The challenge of the Vail city fathers must be to keep this sense of closeness without claustrophobia, of village without vitriol, while building the new resorts. It can be done, as it has been done successfully in other areas of the country and the world. People come here to ski, snowboard, hike and, in general, live a life uncomplicated with urban issues. Vail has a quiet magic, and especially during the season before the first snow. As i walk up Bridge street, I see the white Aspen trees, with a few yellow leaves, the deep black green of stands of aromatic Evergreen, fading flowers, the anticipatory quiet of a late October evening --all seem carry the sense of expectation of the first frost, the Thanksgiving moon, the first flakes of new snow, harbingers of the high season, the last best gift of the dying year.