Spring’s finally teasing its way through Colorado, and I’m itching to get my tires dirty. After a long winter of wrenching, upgrading suspension, and pretending the garage counts as “being outside,” I’m heading to Aspen for a proper shakeout. Not for the ski crowds or high-end shopping—give me mud, trail dust, and a view that makes you pull over and just stare at the horizon for five straight minutes.
Aspen in the spring doesn’t get the off-road love it deserves. Everyone thinks winter or fall foliage, but I’m telling you—April and May up there? That’s the sweet spot. Snow’s melting down low, high passes still locked out, sure, but there’s a whole world of off-grid beauty that opens up once the sun sticks around past dinner.
I’m trailering the Jeep up this time. I’ve got a mildly built JLU—37s, dual lockers, long arm kit, nothing insane but it’ll walk through most stuff in CO. The drive in is about 5-6 hours for me depending on road conditions and how many gas station burritos I convince myself I need. Debated flat towing but decided I’d rather not stress the transmission for once.
I’ve got my sights on a few trails that are usually snow-blocked deeper into the season but should be accessible this spring thanks to a warmer March. Express Creek Road is calling my name—it runs south from Castle Creek Road and connects toward Pearl Pass, though the top of that pass’ll still be packed in with snow. Even just crawling a few miles in and camping overnight under those massive ridgelines is worth the effort. The kind of quiet out there is unreal. Nothing but the wind through the aspens and your own footfalls when you step out to take a leak in the dark.
Also got my eye on Richmond Hill. It’s more mellow, great views, and perfect for an early season ride. Won’t test the rig too hard but sometimes that’s the point. I’ve spent plenty of weekends chasing breakage and trail fixes with zip ties and Gorilla tape. Not trying to turn this trip into another episode of “Guess What’s Leaking Now?”
I like to set up camp off-grid if I can, usually tuck into a little forest service spot off Lincoln Creek or near Difficult Campground if it’s open. Spring means fewer people, which is a gift—nothing kills the vibe faster than running into six Sprinter vans and a bluetooth speaker battle in the backcountry. If the snow’s still stubborn up high, I might drop elevation and do a day trip out toward Fryingpan Road. Some great dispersed areas out there with sneaky trails that wind through the red rock valleys. That kind of terrain just glows in the early morning sun.
This time around I’m bringing the drone too—yeah yeah, I know, everyone and their grandma’s flying drones now, but I don’t use it to be obnoxious. It’s more for the still shots. I get up early, find a pullout or a ridge overlook, and just let it hover for a few minutes to snap the light crawling across the peaks. Can’t beat that feeling of sipping half-burnt camp coffee while watching a cloud bank roll over Castle Peak.
Biggest wildcard for spring wheeling in the mountains is always the snowpack and runoff. You can go from dry dirt to axle-deep slush in the span of 40 feet. I carry boards, a shovel, winch line extensions, and an unhealthy amount of optimism. One year, not far from Taylor Pass, I hit what looked like a harmless puddle and ended up burying the front end so deep the winch line barely reached the next tree. Good times.
Aspen’s weirdly convenient if you plan it right. I usually stash the trailer at one of the lots just outside of town and either take a shuttle or get creative. This time I used Aspen private transport to get from my lodge to the trailhead since I didn’t want to hassle with parking overnight near Castle Creek. Driver showed up early, tossed my gear in the back, didn’t blink at the muddy boots—solid move.
I’m also carving out one day to meet some folks from my 4×4 group. We’re doing a low-key run up toward Smuggler Mountain—super accessible, not a hardcore trail by any means, but the view over Aspen is straight-up cinematic. Plus it’s the perfect spot to break out the camp stove and cook up something greasy before heading back into town. Might even grab a burger at the J-Bar afterward if I feel like dealing with civilization again.
Speaking of which, I did something a little out of character and booked a ride with the best Aspen limo service one evening just to surprise my girl. She’s flying in for the weekend part of the trip—not a huge off-roader herself, but she loves the mountains, and I figured it’d be fun to treat her to a night out without me smelling like gasoline and campfire smoke. We’ll hit up some wine bar, pretend like I don’t own three different torque wrenches, and then I’ll probably try not to fall asleep by 10.
I always forget how much gear I bring on these trips. Half the back of the Jeep is recovery stuff and cooking gear. If you ever camp with me, just know you’re eating good. I’ve got a whole cast iron setup, propane grill, spices—hell, I even bring real plates. I’ll thrash my rig on a rock ledge but I refuse to eat out of a ziplock bag like a backpacker. Last trip I made loaded quesadillas under the stars with smoked brisket I’d vacuum sealed at home. That’s the move. Good food makes even the sketchiest nights stuck in the woods feel like a win.
Anyway, I’ll be up in Aspen for a week or so this time, trying to catch the window between winter slush and full summer crowds. If you see a gray Rubicon covered in dust, a weathered camp chair parked just far enough from the edge, and some guy making espresso with an Aeropress at 9,000 feet—feel free to pull up and say hey. Just don’t forget your traction boards.
