YOU’D LIKE TO THINK YOU CAN ALWAYS DEPEND on a local cowboy to point you in the right direction.
Better yet, three of them. Idling together atop a wooden fence in a picture-perfect pocket of Rocky Mountain country on a fine fall day — each extending a casual finger or thumb toward the trail.
The problem is this: They’re all pointing in different directions.
In Breckenridge, Colorado, you’ll find this jocular trio kicking back at 309 N. Main St. in front of a historic log cabin that’s now the administrative headquarters of the Breckenridge Heritage Alliance. The three of them have been sitting here like bronze statues (which they are) since 1997, when artist Stephen Hansen’s Three Cowboys sculpture was installed alongside a commemorative plaque that reads “They all agreed, the trail is that way.”
Someplace else this might be a confusing message. But in the heart of Summit County during fall hiking season, it’s accurate enough. Pick any direction and you’re golden.
Perched at nearly 10,000 feet at the base of the Tenmile Range, the storied town of Breckenridge — best known for its lofty ski hills, summer offerings, and Old World resort town steeped in modern comforts and gold-mining lore — is high among the finest spots west of the Northeast to witness mass chlorophyll breakdown before all the powder arrives. Autumn color at these elevations generally peaks in early to mid-September, lending Breckenridge the semiplausible if totally unverifiable claim touted by many a local shoulderseason copywriter of being “the first place in the Lower 48 to see the leaves change.”
The point is, you do need to time it right. One premature storm here and — whoosh. Show’s over. All those amber waves of granite are bare.
“You’re still best time to be in Breck,” confirms my front-desk authority, whispering with faux secrecy even though there’s zero risk of our being overheard at the moment. “Just keep it to yourself.”
