Thirteen miles down-valley from Vail sits the Gashouse, in what was once an actual gas station. The walls are filled with trophy animals, and the waitstaff are dressed like extras from Heidi, but the unfettered fare carries a lower price tag than most of the stuff at the ski resort -- and it's good, too. Splurge on the grilled game sampler, which comes to the table loaded with quail, elk tenderloin, buffalo ribs, venison and game sausage.
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Twenty-two inches of fresh powder and the sun shining like the caps of a ski instructor's smile. After eight hours of carving turns and cruising for serious speed, the last thing I want to do is shell out $200 for a meal in a stuffy...