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The Uber-Rich Are Flocking To This Small Mountain Town
The Uber-Rich Are Flocking To This Small Mountain Town

Forbes

time19-06-2025

  • Forbes

The Uber-Rich Are Flocking To This Small Mountain Town

Telluride is known for its laid-back, authentic mountain atmosphere. While the Hamptons and Aspen grab the headlines, the real story of elite summer travel is unfolding in the San Juan Mountains at Telluride, Colorado. Known primarily for its outstanding skiing, Telluride has quietly transformed into the go-to summer escape for high-net-worth homeowners and travelers who crave privacy, authenticity, adventure and bespoke luxury. Crowds gather for opening day of the Telluride Film Festival. Telluride is renowned for its world-class skiing, vibrant summer festivals and authentic mountain character. It's a popular destination for outdoor enthusiasts, offering a variety of activities year-round, including not only skiing but also hiking and biking. The town hosts numerous festivals, including the Telluride Bluegrass Festival, Telluride Jazz Festival and Telluride Film Festival, adding to its cultural appeal. Telluride is known for its laid-back, authentic mountain atmosphere, attracting outdoor enthusiasts and those seeking a more relaxed vacation experience. Telluride is seeing a surge of interest from the 1% who are drawn by the town's intentional under-the-radar vibe and quiet luxury. The $20M off-market ranches, miles of hiking trail excursions straight from your front door and zero paparazzi are all attractive draws for the rich and famous. There are no Gucci storefronts or restaurant lines here, just the kind of insider access and laid-back luxury that today's wealth gravitates toward. The limited commercial flights and ease of traveling to Telluride by private jet help, too Four Seasons is bringing a five-star hotel and condos. Telluride, which has been quietly growing its luxury personality over the past few years, is seeing increased interest from wealthy homebuyers and travelers looking for an adventurous, wellness-oriented, down-to-earth locale to spend their summers. Incredibly the town now sees more visitors and real estate sales in the summer than the winter, shocking for what's typically thought of as a ski destination. One key feature influencing the uber-rich is Four Seasons, which is bringing the first five-star hotel and branded condos in over 15 years to Telluride. It's no surprise many of the condos have already been snapped up by the affluent looking for year-round vacation homes — especially the wealthy from California, Florida and the Southwest who seek cooler mountain locations for the summer. Nadim Ashi, founder and CEO of Fort Partners, co-developer of Four Seasons Hotel and Residences Telluride, says, 'My family and I have been visiting Telluride for over 20 years. It is my favorite ski resort in the world. I've experienced firsthand its subtle yet steady evolution into a year-round luxury destination. We knew the Four Seasons brand would seamlessly align with the DNA of Telluride and complement everything it already has to offer. Our aim is for Four Seasons Hotel and Residences Telluride to set a new bar for residential and hospitality experiences in North American ski resorts.' Telluride is known throughout the world for its incredible skiing. Brian O'Neill of Telluride Properties, who is handling sales for Four Seasons Hotel and Residences Telluride alongside Compass' Bill Fandel, adds, "Telluride provides high quality ski conditions paired with a low-key lifestyle. The town feels down-to-earth, even while offering excellent restaurants, incredible scenery and year-round activities for every age. Those who want the best of nature and European-style, on-mountain dining without the over-the-top party scene of other mountain destinations like Aspen, Vail and Deer Valley know Telluride is their place.' In addition to this atmosphere, the value of Telluride's somewhat difficult-to-access location has become an advantage in recent years. Private aviation into Telluride is very easy and while commercial access has gotten much better, it is still longer and less direct than many mountain towns. This barrier to entry has propelled Telluride into an exclusive resort where the 'quiet luxury' affluent reside. O'Neill says, 'The introduction of the Four Seasons brand has also been a major catalyst for the region's luxury evolution. The area is attracting more luxury attention than ever before and Four Seasons is finally meeting the demand for an updated, premier property in this area. This idyllic destination is small and remote, creating a sense of exclusivity that appeals to luxury homeowners and travelers. At the same time, the region offers exceptional year-round adventures and activities, from skiing in the winter to outdoor sports, dozens of cultural festivals and educational programming in the summer.' Affluent travelers can enjoy luxurious surroundings all year round. Because of this comprehensive offering, developers are seeing a range of buyers looking for homes that fit various lifestyles. There's strong geographical diversity, with people from the East Coast and even Mexico wanting a Western ski home, while luxury buyers from areas like Texas, California and Florida are increasingly seeking out vacation home destinations they can escape to during the hot summer months. Some people want the trophy ski-in/ski-out mountain home, and others want a centrally located, full-service condo with tons of amenities. 'At Four Seasons Hotel and Residences Telluride, we've seen frequent travelers who are familiar with the brand and want to take advantage of the hotel residences, families looking for spacious homes where they can stay with their children during school or summer breaks, and everything in between,' explains O'Neill. 'The Four Seasons brand is appealing to discerning buyers in a way that current development in the region never has." "Telluride is a special town built on a strong history,' says Dev Motwani, President and CEO of Merrimac Ventures, co-developer of Four Seasons Hotel and Residences Telluride. 'This incredible destination continues to grow in popularity, yet maintains its unique charm and attracts people seeking an authentic mountain experience. The forthcoming Four Seasons meets the demand for a new, luxury residential and hospitality offering while reflecting the true spirit of the community."

This Colorado Region Is Called the 'Switzerland of America'—and I Explored It on an Epic 5-day Hike
This Colorado Region Is Called the 'Switzerland of America'—and I Explored It on an Epic 5-day Hike

Yahoo

time14-06-2025

  • Climate
  • Yahoo

This Colorado Region Is Called the 'Switzerland of America'—and I Explored It on an Epic 5-day Hike

I was crouching in the shelter of a boulder, 12,000 feet up in Colorado's San Juan Mountains, as wind and rain whipped around me. Two fighter jets whizzed by, the roar of their engines cutting through the sound of thunder. Pellets of ice began to fall from the sky. 'Once the hail comes, it means it's almost over,' said John Vipiana, one of my hiking companions, who was kneeling beside me. I wasn't sure if he meant the storm, or our lives. I decided not to ask. The two of us had walked ahead of the rest of our group of nine hikers and two guides, and were now alone. I looked up from under the hood of my rain jacket and made out the shapes of brightly colored backpacks moving down the hill toward us. John was right—in a few minutes, the hail let up, and we were reunited with everyone, laughing in disbelief at how wild the weather had turned in the first few miles of our multiday trek. As we continued our descent, the sky turned a brilliant blue. Someone asked where we were. Our lead guide, Patrick Ormond, who had moved to the front of the pack, called out over his shoulder: 'Paradise Basin.' Thinking about the emerald lake we'd passed just before the storm, and looking out at the field of wildflowers and the grove of spruce and fir trees ahead of us, I had to agree. The San Juans are younger than many other ranges in the Rocky Mountain system—younger being a relative term when you're speaking about a difference of 25 to 30 million years. Over millennia, continental plates collided, volcanoes erupted and collapsed on themselves, and calderas formed. This up-and-down motion created a spine of steep, jagged mountains that run through southwestern Colorado. The area is now home to many of the state's 'fourteeners,' or mountains over 14,000 feet, as well as deep, bowl-shaped valleys carved by ancient glaciers. The combination of high peaks and scooped-out ravines makes the San Juans a hardcore backcountry ski destination and, in summer, a sublime place to hike. An avid backpacker, I wanted to experience a side of Colorado that few travelers do. So last August, I flew to Ouray—a common launching point for adventures in the region—to embark on a 35-mile hut-to-hut traverse run by San Juan Mountain Guides, a local tour operator that has been organizing hiking, skiing, and climbing trips since 1986."Our lead guide called out the name of this place: 'Paradise Basin.' Thinking about the emerald lake we'd just passed, and looking out at the field of wildflowers and the grove of spruce and fir trees ahead of us, I had to agree."In the Alps, you can trek all day with a light pack, arrive at a comfortable chalet, sit down to a home-cooked meal, sleep in a real bed, then wake up and do it all again. This kind of hut-to-hut hiking is rare in the United States, but over the past decade, a handful of European-style modern huts have opened in the San Juans. Two years ago, Nate Disser, the owner of San Juan Mountain Guides, and Patrick, who is the company's head guide, got the idea to link up three huts to create an epic, five-day guided hike. They decided to name it the Million Dollar Trek, a reference to the cinematic—and slightly terrifying— Million Dollar Highway, which winds 25 miles through the mountains between Ouray and Silverton. Some say the road is named for the staggering views, while others claim it's because it reportedly took $1 million to build each mile. After the hail, we continued walking through intermittent rain. Our motley crew was a mix of experienced adventurers and regular folks searching for an active vacation. John and his wife, Ann Fitzmaurice, who live in Oregon, were easygoing and gregarious—and also intimidatingly fit. They were traveling with their friend Dave Gooder, a lawyer from Virginia. Three middle-aged brothers, Jim, Mike, and Ed Styslinger, had come from Texas. Kelley Johnson and her 10-year-old son, Chase, hailed from Boulder, Colorado. Chase impressed us all with his stamina, good spirits, and ease around grown-ups. I came in with solid trekking experience and a couple of half marathons under my belt. Our two guides, however, were on an entirely different level. With his handlebar mustache and long ponytail, Patrick had the rangy, tanned look of someone who spends a lot of time in the mountains. A national collegiate rowing champion, he has led expeditions to Argentina's Mount Aconcagua, the highest mountain outside of Asia. Steven Van Sickle—similarly strong, and always in a close-fitting beanie—has guided mountaineering and ski trips to some of the most legendary peaks in China and India. Both have also summited Mount McKinley (also known as Denali), in Alaska, and are licensed by the International Federation of Mountain Guides Associations, the world's most respected guiding organization. Early in the afternoon, we reached a welcome sight: a wood-and-stone structure with smoke curling from the chimney. Stepping inside the warmth of the Opus Hut, I exhaled deeply. Opus sits at 11,600 feet, on an old mining claim, and has creature comforts a miner could only have dreamed of: running water and electricity, of course, as well as meals like mushroom-barley soup with olive-oil croutons or coconut chicken curry, plus beer, wine, and cocktails. After devouring a charcuterie plate, I hightailed it for the cedar sauna, which was set on the edge of a hill. As the steam hissed and swirled, I leaned back on the wooden bench and watched the afternoon light shift, my thoughts drifting like the clouds. Over the next few days, our group fell into a routine as we made our way from one hut to the next. Fueled by hearty breakfasts—egg polenta bites at one stop, chocolate-chip pancakes at another—we would set off early to tackle between six and nine miles, gaining as much as 3,000 feet of elevation. At almost every turn, it seemed, we came upon something astonishing. Some sights were large—a herd of 30 elk thundering down a slope; a turquoise lake where white-tailed ptarmigans flew overhead. Others were small, like a fragment of elk spine, picked clean by an unknown scavenger, or clusters of spectacular flowers, including columbine, paintbrush, and larkspur."As the steam from the sauna hissed and swirled, I leaned back on the wooden bench and watched the afternoon light shift, my thoughts drifting like the clouds."We occasionally passed other hikers, including, on a particularly aggressive climb, a man in Wranglers and a cowboy hat, who was not out of breath in the slightest, casually walking with his Australian cattle dog. One day, we crossed the saddle of Imogene Pass—at 13,114 feet the highest in the San Juans. Along the way, Patrick or Steven would toss out bits of history and facts about the flora and fauna. Mostly, we just soaked it all in, and at each night's hut, we'd gather around the fire and swap stories. A few of us realized we had stayed at Ouray's Western Hotel & Spa—a recently restored boardinghouse from 1891 with a terrific bar and restaurant—the night before our trip and would be returning there after the trek. After Opus, we spent two nights at Red Mountain Alpine Lodge, which allowed some of us to do a long day hike and others to rest. In contrast to the cloistered design at Opus, Red Mountain had a contemporary feel, with an A-frame structure, a large, open-plan living area, floor-to-ceiling windows, and a communal dining table. There were private rooms downstairs, while upstairs, a lofted sleeping space had individual beds with privacy curtains. At night, I played Monopoly or Jenga with Kelley and Chase, who won every time. Ann and John would break out their cribbage set. Someone would pick up a guitar. Beers would be cracked, cards shuffled. By 9 o'clock, the fire would burn low, and everyone would peel off to bed. I winced with the effort of getting back up on my feet, but was exhilarated by what lay ahead the next day. By the time we reached Mount Hayden Backcountry Lodge, our final destination, we felt like one big, happy family, albeit an exhausted one. I'd exchanged numbers with Ann and John, promising I'd reach out if I was ever in Oregon, and talked to Kelley about bringing some of my friends to her family's resort in Belize. Dave offered to send me suggestions for hikes in Europe I might like. On our last morning, we said our goodbyes to Kelley and Chase, who were heading home early for the school week. The athletic effort was starting to add up, and I was grateful that the final, five-mile trek to Crystal Lake (where a van would then shuttle us back to Ouray) was mostly downhill. About an hour into the hike, we rested for a few minutes on the side of the trail. Steven pointed behind us to Mount Sneffels, a fourteener named after Snæfellsjökull, the glacier-topped volcano in Iceland where the characters in Jules Verne's Journey to the Center of the Earth begin their descent into the subterranean world. I stared at the massive form of Sneffels. The summit was slightly obscured by clouds, but its slopes revealed streaks of clover-green grass. Then, in a moment none of us could have scripted, the arc of a rainbow materialized. Standing there, 12,000 feet up, I felt as if over the past five days we'd entered some alternate world, one where strangers embarked on a physical feat that tested us completely—and came out the other side as friends. Four-night trips with San Juan Mountain Guides from $2,299. A version of this story first appeared in the July 2025 issue of Travel + Leisure under the headline "A Walk in the Clouds." Read the original article on Travel & Leisure

This Colorado Region Is Called the 'Switzerland of America'—and I Explored It on an Epic 5-day Hike
This Colorado Region Is Called the 'Switzerland of America'—and I Explored It on an Epic 5-day Hike

Travel + Leisure

time14-06-2025

  • Climate
  • Travel + Leisure

This Colorado Region Is Called the 'Switzerland of America'—and I Explored It on an Epic 5-day Hike

I was crouching in the shelter of a boulder, 12,000 feet up in Colorado's San Juan Mountains, as wind and rain whipped around me. Two fighter jets whizzed by, the roar of their engines cutting through the sound of thunder. Pellets of ice began to fall from the sky. 'Once the hail comes, it means it's almost over,' said John Vipiana, one of my hiking companions, who was kneeling beside me. I wasn't sure if he meant the storm, or our lives. I decided not to ask. The two of us had walked ahead of the rest of our group of nine hikers and two guides, and were now alone. I looked up from under the hood of my rain jacket and made out the shapes of brightly colored backpacks moving down the hill toward us. John was right—in a few minutes, the hail let up, and we were reunited with everyone, laughing in disbelief at how wild the weather had turned in the first few miles of our multiday trek. Hiking past Clear Lake. As we continued our descent, the sky turned a brilliant blue. Someone asked where we were. Our lead guide, Patrick Ormond, who had moved to the front of the pack, called out over his shoulder: 'Paradise Basin.' Thinking about the emerald lake we'd passed just before the storm, and looking out at the field of wildflowers and the grove of spruce and fir trees ahead of us, I had to agree. The San Juans are younger than many other ranges in the Rocky Mountain system— younger being a relative term when you're speaking about a difference of 25 to 30 million years. Over millennia, continental plates collided, volcanoes erupted and collapsed on themselves, and calderas formed. This up-and-down motion created a spine of steep, jagged mountains that run through southwestern Colorado. The area is now home to many of the state's 'fourteeners,' or mountains over 14,000 feet, as well as deep, bowl-shaped valleys carved by ancient glaciers. The combination of high peaks and scooped-out ravines makes the San Juans a hardcore backcountry ski destination and, in summer, a sublime place to hike. From left: A dip in Columbine Lake; dinner at Red Mountain Alpine Lodge. An avid backpacker, I wanted to experience a side of Colorado that few travelers do. So last August, I flew to Ouray—a common launching point for adventures in the region—to embark on a 35-mile hut-to-hut traverse run by San Juan Mountain Guides, a local tour operator that has been organizing hiking, skiing, and climbing trips since 1986. Our lead guide called out the name of this place: 'Paradise Basin.' Thinking about the emerald lake we'd just passed, and looking out at the field of wildflowers and the grove of spruce and fir trees ahead of us, I had to agree. In the Alps, you can trek all day with a light pack, arrive at a comfortable chalet, sit down to a home-cooked meal, sleep in a real bed, then wake up and do it all again. This kind of hut-to-hut hiking is rare in the United States, but over the past decade, a handful of European-style modern huts have opened in the San Juans. Two years ago, Nate Disser, the owner of San Juan Mountain Guides, and Patrick, who is the company's head guide, got the idea to link up three huts to create an epic, five-day guided hike. They decided to name it the Million Dollar Trek, a reference to the cinematic—and slightly terrifying— Million Dollar Highway, which winds 25 miles through the mountains between Ouray and Silverton. Some say the road is named for the staggering views, while others claim it's because it reportedly took $1 million to build each mile. Arriving at Opus Hut. After the hail, we continued walking through intermittent rain. Our motley crew was a mix of experienced adventurers and regular folks searching for an active vacation. John and his wife, Ann Fitzmaurice, who live in Oregon, were easygoing and gregarious—and also intimidatingly fit. They were traveling with their friend Dave Gooder, a lawyer from Virginia. Three middle-aged brothers, Jim, Mike, and Ed Styslinger, had come from Texas. Kelley Johnson and her 10-year-old son, Chase, hailed from Boulder, Colorado. Chase impressed us all with his stamina, good spirits, and ease around grown-ups. I came in with solid trekking experience and a couple of half marathons under my belt. Guide Patrick Ormond and his dog Callie take a break. Our two guides, however, were on an entirely different level. With his handlebar mustache and long ponytail, Patrick had the rangy, tanned look of someone who spends a lot of time in the mountains. A national collegiate rowing champion, he has led expeditions to Argentina's Mount Aconcagua, the highest mountain outside of Asia. Steven Van Sickle—similarly strong, and always in a close-fitting beanie—has guided mountaineering and ski trips to some of the most legendary peaks in China and India. Both have also summited Mount McKinley (also known as Denali), in Alaska, and are licensed by the International Federation of Mountain Guides Associations, the world's most respected guiding organization. From left: The wood-fired hot tub at Mount Hayden Backcountry Lodge; the bar at the Western Hotel & Spa, in Ouray. Early in the afternoon, we reached a welcome sight: a wood-and-stone structure with smoke curling from the chimney. Stepping inside the warmth of the Opus Hut, I exhaled deeply. Opus sits at 11,600 feet, on an old mining claim, and has creature comforts a miner could only have dreamed of: running water and electricity, of course, as well as meals like mushroom-barley soup with olive-oil croutons or coconut chicken curry, plus beer, wine, and cocktails. After devouring a charcuterie plate, I hightailed it for the cedar sauna, which was set on the edge of a hill. As the steam hissed and swirled, I leaned back on the wooden bench and watched the afternoon light shift, my thoughts drifting like the clouds. From left: Blankets at Red Mountain Alpine Lodge; hiker John Vipiana cools off after a sauna at Opus. Over the next few days, our group fell into a routine as we made our way from one hut to the next. Fueled by hearty breakfasts—egg polenta bites at one stop, chocolate-chip pancakes at another—we would set off early to tackle between six and nine miles, gaining as much as 3,000 feet of elevation. At almost every turn, it seemed, we came upon something astonishing. Some sights were large—a herd of 30 elk thundering down a slope; a turquoise lake where white-tailed ptarmigans flew overhead. Others were small, like a fragment of elk spine, picked clean by an unknown scavenger, or clusters of spectacular flowers, including columbine, paintbrush, and larkspur. As the steam from the sauna hissed and swirled, I leaned back on the wooden bench and watched the afternoon light shift, my thoughts drifting like the clouds. We occasionally passed other hikers, including, on a particularly aggressive climb, a man in Wranglers and a cowboy hat, who was not out of breath in the slightest, casually walking with his Australian cattle dog. One day, we crossed the saddle of Imogene Pass—at 13,114 feet the highest in the San Juans. Along the way, Patrick or Steven would toss out bits of history and facts about the flora and fauna. Mostly, we just soaked it all in, and at each night's hut, we'd gather around the fire and swap stories. A few of us realized we had stayed at Ouray's Western Hotel & Spa — a recently restored boardinghouse from 1891 with a terrific bar and restaurant—the night before our trip and would be returning there after the trek. Walking through an aspen grove. After Opus, we spent two nights at Red Mountain Alpine Lodge, which allowed some of us to do a long day hike and others to rest. In contrast to the cloistered design at Opus, Red Mountain had a contemporary feel, with an A-frame structure, a large, open-plan living area, floor-to-ceiling windows, and a communal dining table. There were private rooms downstairs, while upstairs, a lofted sleeping space had individual beds with privacy curtains. At night, I played Monopoly or Jenga with Kelley and Chase, who won every time. Ann and John would break out their cribbage set. Someone would pick up a guitar. Beers would be cracked, cards shuffled. By 9 o'clock, the fire would burn low, and everyone would peel off to bed. I winced with the effort of getting back up on my feet, but was exhilarated by what lay ahead the next day. Descending Imogene Pass on the way to Mount Hayden Backcountry Lodge. By the time we reached Mount Hayden Backcountry Lodge, our final destination, we felt like one big, happy family, albeit an exhausted one. I'd exchanged numbers with Ann and John, promising I'd reach out if I was ever in Oregon, and talked to Kelley about bringing some of my friends to her family's resort in Belize. Dave offered to send me suggestions for hikes in Europe I might like. On our last morning, we said our goodbyes to Kelley and Chase, who were heading home early for the school week. The athletic effort was starting to add up, and I was grateful that the final, five-mile trek to Crystal Lake (where a van would then shuttle us back to Ouray) was mostly downhill. Hiking the Columbine Trail after a stay at Opus Hut. About an hour into the hike, we rested for a few minutes on the side of the trail. Steven pointed behind us to Mount Sneffels, a fourteener named after Snæfellsjökull, the glacier-topped volcano in Iceland where the characters in Jules Verne's Journey to the Center of the Earth begin their descent into the subterranean world. I stared at the massive form of Sneffels. The summit was slightly obscured by clouds, but its slopes revealed streaks of clover-green grass. Then, in a moment none of us could have scripted, the arc of a rainbow materialized. Standing there, 12,000 feet up, I felt as if over the past five days we'd entered some alternate world, one where strangers embarked on a physical feat that tested us completely—and came out the other side as friends. Four-night trips with San Juan Mountain Guides from $2,299. From left: Paintbrush flowers along the Million Dollar Trek; heading toward Mount Hayden Backcountry Lodge. A version of this story first appeared in the July 2025 issue of Travel + Leisure under the headline "A Walk in the Clouds ."

The ultra-exclusive mountain hideaway revealed
The ultra-exclusive mountain hideaway revealed

Daily Mail​

time05-06-2025

  • Business
  • Daily Mail​

The ultra-exclusive mountain hideaway revealed

As rental properties in the Hamptons remain empty this year, those who love to summer are headed elsewhere. The luxury hotspot that's seducing the ultra-rich has long been known as a winter hub for the wealthy, who come to ski and après-ski in the town's many resort chalets. Nestled deep in Colorado 's San Juan Mountains, Telluride has turned into the latest summer destination for billionaires, celebrities, and Silicon Valley moguls. Telluride offers privacy and exclusivity without the fuss of many summer getaway areas. 'I've seen the transformation first hand,' local luxury realtor Brian O'Neill told He's watched the town — once sleepy in the summer — morph into a playground for the one percent. 'It's funny, the same saying has always gone around here. I came for the winter and stayed for the summer,' O'Neill said. People stay for the $20 million ranches, private hiking trails that start from your front door, and, for celebrities, a paparazzi free summer. With limited commercial flights, Telluride is perfect for private jets, which isn't a problem for its residents, including Oprah Winfrey, who owns four properties there. The upcoming arrival of a Four Seasons — the first five-star hotel and luxe condo development in over 15 years — is a sign of what's to come. 'This project is going to have a significant impact on the sophistication of our community,' says O'Neill, who is handling sales for the property. 'The developer is amazing… they're creating something that not only elevates Telluride but maintains its low-key vibe. 'You go to Aspen where people want to be noticed. You come here and people don't really care where they came from – New York, Miami, or LA. They're low-key folks with a great appreciation for that.' He says many of the Four Seasons' residences have already been snapped up by elites fleeing California, Florida, and the Southwest for Telluride's cool mountain air. The fun-filled summers are also starting to heat up the local real estate market. 'We do 57 percent more real estate sales in the summer than in the winter,' O'Neill told 'Occupancy rates are higher too. It's grown so much, the area has a packed calendar of summer events. 'Everybody in Telluride said, "We need a more year-round economy,"' O'Neill said. 'Festivals started coming and are now almost every weekend. We have our own self-proclaimed title: the festival capital of the world. Some of the festivals include the iconic Telluride Bluegrass Festival, MountainFilm, jazz, blues, wine, science talks, and even mushroom hunting. Telluride is built for families, too. They can bike outside, easily ride the local rivers on inner tubes, zip-line, bungee, and jump on trampolines in Mountain Village. Locals can sip coffee outside of the charming cafés that line Main Street while admiring a backdrop of 14,000-foot mountain peaks. Visitors can hike the Via Ferrata or explore the ghost towns left behind on the old mining roads. 'There's just a lot of merit to what you can do here that you don't have the option to do elsewhere,' said O'Neill. 'You can hike, fly fish, rock climb, mountain bike, downhill bike, cross-country bike. 'You can go to a food and wine event, then go to a science talk. We even have an incubator for startup companies. It's endless.' He added that the town probably has more quality restaurants per capita than anywhere — maybe even more than Aspen. That includes the legendary New Sheridan Hotel, where visitors can belly up to the 122-year-old bar once frequented by outlaws and miners. But, O'Neill warns, rentals don't come cheap.

The ultra-exclusive mountain hideaway the one percent have turned into a summer playground
The ultra-exclusive mountain hideaway the one percent have turned into a summer playground

Daily Mail​

time05-06-2025

  • Business
  • Daily Mail​

The ultra-exclusive mountain hideaway the one percent have turned into a summer playground

As rental properties in the Hamptons remain empty this year, those who love to summer are headed elsewhere. The luxury hotspot that's seducing the ultra-rich has long been known as a winter hub for the wealthy, who come to ski and après-ski in the town's many resort chalets. Nestled deep in Colorado 's San Juan Mountains, Telluride has turned into the latest summer destination for billionaires, celebrities, and Silicon Valley moguls. Telluride offers privacy and exclusivity without the fuss of many summer getaway areas. 'I've seen the transformation first hand,' local luxury realtor Brian O'Neill told He's watched the town — once sleepy in the summer — morph into a playground for the one percent. 'It's funny, the same saying has always gone around here. I came for the winter and stayed for the summer,' O'Neill said. People stay for the $20 million ranches, private hiking trails that start from your front door, and, for celebrities, a paparazzi free summer. With limited commercial flights, Telluride is perfect for private jets, which isn't a problem for its residents, including Oprah Winfrey, who owns four properties there. The upcoming arrival of a Four Seasons — the first five-star hotel and luxe condo development in over 15 years — is a sign of what's to come. 'This project is going to have a significant impact on the sophistication of our community,' says O'Neill, who is handling sales for the property. 'The developer is amazing… they're creating something that not only elevates Telluride but maintains its low-key vibe. 'You go to Aspen where people want to be noticed. You come here and people don't really care where they came from – New York, Miami, or LA. They're low-key folks with a great appreciation for that.' He says many of the Four Seasons' residences have already been snapped up by elites fleeing California, Florida, and the Southwest for Telluride's cool mountain air. The fun-filled summers are also starting to heat up the local real estate market. 'We do 57 percent more real estate sales in the summer than in the winter,' O'Neill told 'Occupancy rates are higher too. It's grown so much, the area has a packed calendar of summer events. 'Everybody in Telluride said, "We need a more year-round economy,"' O'Neill said. 'Festivals started coming and are now almost every weekend. We have our own self-proclaimed title: the festival capital of the world. Some of the festivals include the iconic Telluride Bluegrass Festival, MountainFilm, jazz, blues, wine, science talks, and even mushroom hunting. Telluride is built for families, too. They can bike outside, easily ride the local rivers on inner tubes, zip-line, bungee, and jump on trampolines in Mountain Village. Locals can sip coffee outside of the charming cafés that line Main Street while admiring a backdrop of 14,000-foot mountain peaks. Visitors can hike the Via Ferrata or explore the ghost towns left behind on the old mining roads. Telluride has shed its winter only reputation and has become a summer destination too 'There's just a lot of merit to what you can do here that you don't have the option to do elsewhere,' said O'Neill. 'You can hike, fly fish, rock climb, mountain bike, downhill bike, cross-country bike. 'You can go to a food and wine event, then go to a science talk. We even have an incubator for startup companies. It's endless.' He added that the town probably has more quality restaurants per capita than anywhere — maybe even more than Aspen. That includes the legendary New Sheridan Hotel, where visitors can belly up to the 122-year-old bar once frequented by outlaws and miners. But, O'Neill warns, rentals don't come cheap. 'If you want to rent a house or condo in town, you're gonna spend $500 to $1,000 a night,' he says. 'It's not cheap.' For those wanting to make it permanent, Telluride is a wonderful option. 'We have our schools annually ranked in the top 10 percent of the state,' O'Neill said. 'This year we had kids go to Columbia and Berkeley. Great teachers want to live in a great place.'

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