Ski resort "smoke shacks" have the bowls that really count

You have to know someone to show you these places — and after that, you shouldn't show them to everyone else you know. It's like a stoner version of the first rule of Fight Club: You do not talk about the location of the smoke shacks.

*****

The legendary, and lavish, Leo's in Breckenridge.

The well-disguised No Fat Chicks at Winter Park.

Details

VIDEO: Go inside a smoke shack.



As part of our coverage, we sent the Mile Highs and Lows camera crew (i.e., me and my iPhone) to the high country to get some video footage.

Related Content

• Closing time: An end-of-season ski and snowboard splash-down countdown
  March 29, 2013
• Get the edge on winter fun with The Edge!
  November 8, 2012
• Where to get stoned on the mountain...or not
  January 10, 2013
• EatDenver's Big Eat bash was a culinary smash
  May 28, 2013
• Win two free tickets to EatDenver's Big Eat bash on Sunday (updated with winner)
  May 24, 2013

More About

• Winter Park
• Jim Stark
• Christopher Sendroy
• Winter Sports
• Skiing

Considering that Breckenridge, the town, has legalized marijuana, it's not surprising to learn that Breckenridge mountain is home to nearly a dozen smoke shacks that are known the world over. High Country Caregiver, a frequent Westword commenter on all subjects marijuana-related, is also an expert on Breckenridge's many smoke shacks, huts and tepees. Caregiver — who asked that his real identity not be revealed — worked for the ski area for six years as a market-research manager.

Caregiver probably wouldn't have made it in Fight Club: On his website, he lists the GPS coordinates of seven of Breck's most historic huts, including the notorious Leo's Smoke Shack. That two-story shack has graced the pages of numerous ski magazines and has been the subject of enough ski forums that tourists occasionally ask to see it. But Caregiver doesn't apologize for spreading the word. "All I can say in my defense is people come to ski Breckenridge specifically to find the smoke shacks, and it's a great destination to ski and enjoy cannabis at the same time," he says, showing his skills at MMJ market research. "The reality of ski patrol, cops, Forest Service — whatever — tearing them down is completely independent of what I say and the maps I provide. If any of that were to happen, it would have happened or could happen totally regardless of anything that I ever said."

Caregiver says he averages about three smoke-shack stops each time he is on the hill, and claims to have visited the dozen or so Breckenridge shacks as many as 2,400 times over the fifteen years he's lived in the area. "Smoking marijuana is a very important part of skiing and a very strong part of the culture, especially for Breckenridge," he says. "It's great to have semi-secret underground smoke locations that are accessible off almost every lift. I've had awesome experiences hanging out with crew after crew of riders who pass by, blaze and keep riding. Young, old, male, female, all walks of life — the shack, man, the shack is so awesome."

According to Caregiver, Breckenridge officials generally turn a blind eye as long as the shacks don't become a nuisance or pose a danger to the people using them. He says he's seen ski patrollers glide past shacks while he's been inside blazing, watched instructors take ski schools past the shacks as a sort of on-mountain attraction, and has even spotted families having a wholesome, weed-free lunch in the shacks.

"Although I use the shacks to smoke marijuana, above all they are a beautiful piece of ski culture and art that represent something much larger than just smoking cannabis," he explains. "To just assume that they are a place to smoke pot is missing the larger picture. The people who think that way are the same ones who think a powder stash is their secret powder stash or something. Everything on the mountain is everyone's to enjoy."

But the Forest Service doesn't see it quite that way.

*****

Jim Stark, winter sports manager for the U.S Forest Service, can't point to a specific time when the federal agency became aware of the huts and shacks popping up on national forest land. They've always kind of been there, scattered around ski areas and back-country trails. As far as he can tell, what are now called smoke shacks likely started out as warming huts built by elk hunters or lean-tos used by miners. Over the years, as ski areas began leasing federal land and expanding their resorts, the shacks became part of their terrain...and their responsibility.

The older shacks tend to be ignored at most ski areas, Stark says. Some, like those at Winter Park, predate the ski area's existence and blend into the landscape. The few he hears about are the newer shacks Stark calls "summer jobs," whose construction involves cutting down living trees, stripping branches and using forest resources. These shacks have been growing in complexity over the last few decades, and some are now sprawling creations that rival (if not trump) the living quarters of the local ski bums who help build them.

The rare complaints that come into Stark's office are never about stoned riders and skiers visiting these shacks. Instead, they focus on environmental damage and concerns that hearing about the spots could lure inexperienced skiers into extreme terrain. But what Stark says he really gets gripes about are the growing number of on-mountain shrines. Scattered around the woods of Aspen and Snowmass are impromptu memorials devoted to famous and infamous dead celebrities ranging from Elvis to Hunter S. Thompson, covered with pictures, beads and other memorabilia. "They are an eyesore to people," he explains, noting that humble shrines for friends lost on the mountain tend to be left in peace.

The most serious hut-related incident Stark can recall was a few seasons back, at tiny, three-lift Sunlight Mountain outside of Glenwood Springs. A few local teens had spent their day skiing in and out of a shack, where they'd drink booze. One kid was "chugging vodka," he recalls, and passed out in the shack. His friends were unable to rouse the teen, and decided to leave him behind after the lifts stopped running. But one friend thought better of that plan and told the ski patrol, and the kid was found woozy, suffering from hypothermia and nearly frozen.