Recently, I spent 90 minutes on a call with Patrick Hasburgh, the writer and director of Aspen Extreme. We talked about storytelling, crafting dialogue, characters, ski towns being a catcher's mitt for exiles and emigres, tension between the dark and light of Aspen (and other mountain towns), what he regrets from the film, the patina of nostalgia, Doug Coombs, Disney exec's version of Aspen versus his version of Aspen, and more. Personally, the conversation with Patrick is an unforgettable experience.
You’ll see stories from the interview pop up sooner than later. I’m sharing a one-minute soundbite today directly from my conversation with Patrick Hasburgh about Aspen. The man who wrote Aspen Extreme reflected on his “deep love for the place.”
I am thrilled and honored to share this snippet from my conversation with Patrick on The Ski Phoenix. I can’t wait to share more from the chat via published stories soon.
In the meantime, here’s a bit of personal backstory about Aspen Extreme…
In 2006, I snagged an internship with Francis Ford Coppola. I was the editorial assistant at Zoetrope: All-Story, Coppola’s literary magazine based out of San Francisco’s North Beach. It was a dream!
Every morning, I’d leave my studio in the city’s “TenderNob” neighborhood. I’d turn left on Grant Street to walk through Chinatown. Then, I’d turn right on Columbus Avenue. I’d grab a coffee at North Beach’s Caffe Trieste and pass City Lights Books on my way to Coppola’s flatiron building at the bottom of Columbus. A rickety elevator would whisk me to the penultimate floor of the building—Francis presided over the top floor, but the magazine sat just beneath his zone.
My job at Zoetrope was to comb through the “slush pile.” We’d receive 12,000 unsolicited short-fiction manuscripts every year. I was tasked with reading the stories in that pile. The overwhelming majority would be recycled leaving writers wondering if anyone read their work. A few would receive hand-written rejection letters that I’d labor over to show the author that their writing resonated with a reader (me) and to let them know that the magazine wouldn’t be publishing the story they submitted. A few manuscripts, literally three, I placed on the editor’s desk to consider.
At that same time, I decided I had something to say. I started writing.
For 14 months, I submitted work to magazines—short fiction manuscripts, travel narratives and story ideas. For 14 months, I heard nothing. Then, I received a rejection letter. I was honored. It meant so much that someone on the other end cared enough to take the time to reject me. I still have that first rejection letter.
Fast forward to 2007. I moved to Colorado from NYC to work at Rock & Ice. My first ski season in Aspen was “the second-biggest winter in Aspen since 1980-81.”1 It snowed so much. I remember thinking, “it only snowed five inches last night, I have to pass on first bucket this morning to get work done.” It set a precedent that I naively expected in the following winter. It’s never snowed as much as it did that first winter.
In addition to powder skiing and the Volkl Gotama (before they messed it up in 2010), I was introduced to Aspen Extreme during the winter of 2007–2008. “You’ve never seen Aspen Extreme?” a friend asked with shock while at Zane’s, a subterranean bar in downtown Aspen that still pours shitty beer and serves greasy pub fare like wings and Philly Cheesesteaks (it’s amazing!).
We watched the movie that night. And, I’ve watched the movie at least once every year since.
During the opening credits of Aspen Extreme, TJ Burke receives another rejection letter. This one is from Esquire. TJ Burke pins it on a bulletin board next to other rejection letters.
Within the first three minutes of the movie, I was hooked. It threw me back to rejecting anonymous writers at Zoetrope: All-Story and to finally getting rejected by a few magazines prior to eventually landing a byline.
My connection to Aspen Extreme is personal, but it’s not unique. People love the movie because it hits them square in the heart for different reasons. The movie resonates with blue-collar kids who migrate to boujee ski towns. Aspen Extreme lands with ski instructors who earned their spot with clients. The movie jives with those who love Aspen (and those who loathe Aspen). It’s a film that ski bums can quote just like wealthy people who have their own version of Aspen.
As Patrick said, “Aspen saved my life.”
A Conversation with Aspen Extreme's Writer and Director, Patrick Hasburgh