By Virginia McConnell Simmons
Skiing at Cooper Hill was a favorite family outing 60 years ago. Compared to the rope tow over on Fremont Pass, the T-bar at Cooper Hill was swell, once you learned not to sit on the bar and just let it push you from behind. No fashionable garb required. We wore ordinary winter jackets, caps, and mittens, with leather boots topped by gaiters to keep the snow out, and used wooden skis about six feet long until newfangled laminated Heads came along. Back then, the Hill had one wide downhill slope, but over to the side, a trail came down through the trees for thrills. We packed our own lunches but slept in Leadville in the tattered Tabor Suite on the top floor for luxury. Remember?