High-country holiday: a snowy mountain retreat in Colorado and a festive feast you can make at home

The snow had stopped by the time we arrived at Vista Verde Ranch. Stars sparkled in a sky so cold that the snow squeaked as we stepped out of the car. Faint sounds of laughter came from the ranch house, whose glowing yellow windows reminded me of an electric gingerbread house my family used to light up at Christmas. Beyond the lodge, jagged, snow-cloaked mountains framed a quiet pasture where horses huddled against a fence, their breath leaving plumes of vaporized air.

My fiance, Jeremy, and I had wanted to do something different over the holidays, somewhere far from the city. But we didn't really want to rough it. We were both eager to spend a few days backcountry skiing, but we still wanted to enjoy a glass of wine and a good meal in the evenings. A guest ranch like Vista Verde, high in the Colorado Rockies near Steamboat Springs, seemed just right.

"We've been expecting you," said a young girl in Western-style duds as she waved us to a partially occupied table and handed us the evening's menu: elk with port sauce, sea bass with tomato coulis, or vegetarian cassoulet. But before we could focus on food, we were drawn into conversation with our new dinner companions. The couple next to us, Seth and Fawn, were to be married the next evening by candlelight in their cabin.

"So how will you spend tomorrow morning?" I asked the bride-to-be. Her answer summed up the go-getter personality that proved to be typical of guests at Vista Verde: "I think I'll go horseback riding."

A winter wonderland

It's not surprising that Vista Verde visitors tend to take part in every activity; they're the type of people that guest ranches have always attracted. The industry grew out of a late-19th-century impulse to cater to travelers--mostly Easterners--who craved the genuine experience of working the land out West.

Today you can still find true working ranches where it's mandatory to participate in chores such as roping (think City Slickers), but these days many of them are more like regular resorts that combine outdoorsy activities with great food and luxurious lodging. A newer trend is for ranches to remain open throughout the winter, offering snow-themed activities like cross-country skiing, snowshoeing, and sledding.

Setting the standard in that realm is Vista Verde, whose 500-acre wilderness setting makes it a stellar base for backcountry skiing, not to mention an irresistible place to hole up over the holidays. A working ranch since it was homesteaded in the 193 Os, Vista Verde retains its Western feel, with three lodge rooms and nine log cabins spaced amply apart from one another on a hillside framed by mountain views.

Our cabin was so cozy we could hardly bring ourselves to step outside. It was sheer bliss to wake up to the sight of snow drifting down like powdered sugar through a sieve. And it was even better to be able to prance just two steps through the snow to our private hot tub, where we could sit gazing up at sword-size icicles.

We quickly developed a daily routine: over a lavish breakfast of steaming omelets (no cowboy coffee and gravy-soaked biscuits here), a wrangler would help us plan our day. Among the options: cross-country skiing or snowshoeing around the ranch's 30-kilometer groomed trails, exploring the Routt National Forest and adjoining Mt. Zirkel Wilderness on backcountry skis, or taking a mellow ride in the saddle of a sure-footed pinto or mustang, or on the blanketed backseat of a horse-drawn sleigh.

Most mornings we opted for backcountry skiing along trails scented by pine and fir. Kicking and gliding through 3 feet of fresh snow at an elevation of 7,800 feet was no cakewalk; thankfully, the snow here is feather-light and dry-locals call it champagne powder-which makes it easier to navigate.

Because there were so many guides (the staff-to-guest ratio is about 2 to 1), it was easy for us to go our separate ways when we felt like it. One bright morning Jeremy--a fanatic angler--opted to spend the day fly-fishing for rainbow trout on the Yampa River with Trey Dail, a wrangler whose duties include fly-fishing excursions.

I took the opportunity to head out on skis to track wildlife with Pete, a longtime Colorado resident with a great command of local ecology. He taught me how to distinguish the tracks of a weasel from those of a fox (a weasel's bring to mind Morse code: short, long, short long) and pointed out elk tooth marks in the trunk of an aspen. We skied to his favorite vista, a view of Hahn's Peak, which looked tantalizingly close in the clear air.

Then there was the pleasure of returning to braised vegetable cassoulet, two kinds of piping-hot soups, homemade bread, and cookies warm from the oven.

Chucking the chuck wagon

The food at Vista Verde is reason enough to visit. Chef Jonathon, a graduate of the Culinary Institute of America and the ranch's executive chef for the past five years, has an endless supply of imaginative menus up his sleeve--and he's happy to share his ideas. He offers wine-tasting sessions and cooking seminars where you learn to make some of the ranch's most popular dishes, such as beef tenderloin marinated in bourbon, molasses, and balsamic vinegar (see "Colorado Holiday Feast," page 86).

One die-hard guest, Maria, who has visited no fewer than seven times, came this year specifically for Jonathon progressive New Year's Eve Feast. "Last year the first course was oysters Rockefeller, served in the Homestead Cabin, then we had salmon tartare in mini ice-cream-cone-shaped flutes around a bonfire. We ended up with a huge sit-down meal in the lodge, and then a dessert buffet in Sweetheart's Parlor," she recalled. "We skied from place to place wearing miner's lights. It was unreal."

It's not just the holiday meals that are memorable. Halfway through dinner on our last night, a young wrangler with a winning smile stood up to announce that, a few minutes after dessert, there would be a full-moon cross-country outing to the Homestead Cabin. About 12 of us proved to be up for the apres-meal adventure. We met in the ski hut, strapped on skis, and took off.

After a couple minutes of struggling to keep up, I let everyone pass and gave myself over to the profound silence of the cold, perfectly clear winter night. The moon hung low in the sky, behind a thick stand of pines, but cast its silvery light so brightly that the hoarfrost covering the brambly bushes around me glittered like bits of broken mirrors.

By the time I arrived at the Homestead, a fire was burning in the woodstove and brandy glasses were being handed out. I squeezed in between two people and let my fingers and toes thaw out. As the conversation flowed and the fire started dying down, I felt a pang of nostalgia for the summer camp vacations of my childhood. This easy camaraderie felt so familiar, and yet so rare.