Reliving the ranch

By Mark Brown, Rocky Mountain News (Contact)

Friday, January 25, 2008

Photo courtesy of Caribou Ranch

A rainbow hovers over the barn that was converted into a studio at Caribou Ranch.

Photo courtesy of Caribou Ranch

Stephen Stills, who often recorded at the ranch, was photographed with his guitars during a break in a '70s recording session.

Photo courtesy of Caribou Ranc

Carl Wilson recorded two solo albums, a Beach Boys album and sessions with Chicago.

After a 1985 fire closed the recording studio, some people thought Caribou Ranch shut down. But it remained a working cattle operation where owner Jim Guercio raised his family, kept a low profile and concentrated on other business interests.

Now, some of those businesses are being managed by his children and Guercio is moving back into music with the upcoming reissue of a Dennis Wilson album, Pacific Ocean Blue. The time seemed right to end his silence and reopen the gates to the ranch near Nederland that once hosted artists ranging from Joe Walsh to Elton John, Stephen Stills to Michael Jackson, and produced records that sold in excess of 100 million copies combined.

So on a recent wintry day Guercio, Kenny Passarelli (bassist for John and Walsh, among others) and longtime ranch manager John Carsello sat near a crackling blaze in the lodge to recall three decades of music history. Rocky pop music writer Mark Brown spoke with several other musicians, including Walsh and Richie Furay (Buffalo Springfield, Poco), about their memories to fill in this recollection.

STAKING A CLAIM

How a stubborn record producer found a musical paradise

James Guercio first saw the Rocky Mountains in the '60s, while touring as a guitarist for Chad & Jeremy, when disc jockey Hal Moore took him to Central City. ("I walked the streets of Central City and looked at the trees and the mountains. I said someday this would be where to live.") Later, as a producer in New York and Los Angeles, confining union rules about what he could and couldn't do behind the mixing desk frustrated him.

James Guercio: They'd unionized the studios. I couldn't touch a button. They heard I was cueing stuff so they put a union steward in and threatened to fine me. I was 19 and I just said, this is not the creative process.

In 1968 I had been up in Billings and Bozeman and found a really pretty ranch. We went into this bar; I had kinda long hair. I think it was in Bigfork. These guys said, 'You're buying that ranch and building a studio? We'll give you a haircut with a chainsaw.' You can't make that up. It was like Deliverance.

Guercio became close with Texas entrepreneur Layton Humphrey, who helped search for a ranch. The pair were stranded at the old Stapleton airport in '69 when they missed a connection.

Guercio: He says, 'You know, right outside of Boulder my uncle owned the prettiest ranch when I was a kid, but he sold it a long time ago.' . . . We drove in here, and there were people everywhere. A quick-draw contest. A barbecue. Horses. Tents. Five hundred to 1,000 people, cars everywhere. And everything was painted turquoise. It was going to be (a subdivision) called the Caribou Ranch Country Club Estates.

Layton said, 'That's the right place. It's got a college. They're not going to cut your hair with a chainsaw . . . and you're an hour from Stapleton.'

It took Guercio two years to purchase the main ranch.

Kenny Passarelli: Jimmy was a working musician from the start. He's a guy who's a visionary from way back. (He built Caribou) from a musician's point of view. He wanted a place where he could live and at the same time do some recording.

Guercio: I was at a point in my life with huge success and I said, 'You know, people are going to conform to my environment. I'm not going to conform to theirs.' They all refused - Chicago, all these guys. 'We're not going up to the mountains.' They eventually did, but when I first started I had a lot of resistance.

Richie Furay: It was quite the place. Jimmy took care of you. I lived about three miles from Caribou for a long time. The one thing I remember is the meals were incredible. It was five-star dining up there. And the studio itself, you were isolated. You were there to do business. You were there to work.

Passarelli: It turned into something way beyond belief, a destination recording spot. Those didn't exist.

FIRST NOTES

An earthquake results in a seismic shift in the recording landscape

Producer Bill Szymczyk and Joe Walsh were the first to use the studio, both having just moved to Colorado.

Szymczyk: I was living in Los Angeles in '71 when the earthquake hit . . . to me that was a sign.

Walsh: After the earthquake he just freaked out and moved to Colorado.

Szymczyk: Walsh came through with The James Gang. He said, 'I'm thinking about quitting the band and starting a solo career.' I said, 'Move out here.' I'm not sure how he found Nederland, to be honest with you. He just wanted to be as isolated as possible. We knew (Guercio) was building (a studio). 'Oh my God, a studio here, how nice would that be?' We went over when he was in the beginning stages of it.

Guercio gave studio designer Tom Hidley a mandate to make the big barn at Caribou the world's best recording facility.

Guercio: I said, 'Tom, I'll give you carte blanche.' He just did the hayloft - the control room and the monitors. He was the top designer in the country.

Walsh: They had one room done, still working on the other. That's when I formed the band Barnstorm. We were the first album that came out of Caribou Ranch.

The 1972 sessions nearly derailed when Guercio headed to Hollywood to produce and direct the Robert Blake movie, "Electra Glide in Blue."

Szymczyk: He was going to put it on hold a good six, eight months. Joe and I just ganged up on him and said, 'No, no, no, no, you get something in here for us.' He went away to do his movie and Joe and I moved in.

Caribou had yet to become a luxury recording site, though.

Passarelli: We were recording when the barn was being completed. We were (urinating) down the elevator shaft.

Szymczyk: We were on our own. There was no maintenance guy. No studio manager. Nothing. The buildings were there but they hadn't been refurbished. There was a mess hall from when it was a working ranch but there was no one there to cook. We showed up with our lunch.

Walsh: There was a great artistic community in those days around Denver. Tommy Bolin was alive and well. (Stephen) Stills was in Colorado with Manassas. Richie Furay from Buffalo Springfield was there. A whole bunch of folks. It was a real creative time for all of us.

Guercio brought in a $250,000 custom-made Olive mixing board that wasn't reliable.

Guercio: The Olive was way ahead of its time. I loved it. The first two things I cut on it were No. 1 records: (Chicago's) Feelin' Stronger Every Day and Just You 'n' Me. (But) Bill Szymczyk said, 'Jim, this is a science project. I gotta be able to walk in here and walk out.' We found a Neve (board) that (Beatles producer) George Martin had that came from London . . . for people (who needed) something that's bulletproof."

With hit singles like Walsh's "Rocky Mountain Way" hitting radio, suddenly the ranch at 9,000 feet looked ideal for creating music, and not just for its state-of-the-art facilities.

Guercio: Elton (John) would write a whole album in one week and cut it in one week. No distractions, you're set up. That was the whole concept. It bothered me to be pushing the clock, so I never allowed clocks here.

SONIC BOOM

High altitude creates problems and a distinctive sound

Passarelli: We made those (first) records and people were listening. Elton John came to Caribou for the Caribou sound - a sound that was like no other sound in the world.

John Carsello: I was showing the band and everybody the control room and you know what Elton said? He goes, 'Is this where (Rick Derringer's) All American Boy was done?' I said yes. He said, 'That's the sound I want.'

Guercio: You could sing an octave higher. The sounds were different at that elevation and I never knew that. We didn't understand this. The engineers all had theories . . . (Producer) Tommy Dowd, great guy, he was an atomic scientist. He'd tell me what I'm telling you. He called and said, 'I gotta bring Rod (Stewart) up, he can't hit these notes.' He came up and we put Rod and Britt Ekland in a cabin . . . If You Leave Me Now, Chicago, they had to come up here. Could never hit the notes (at sea level).

Passarelli: All of a sudden it turned into this destination. People wanted to come and record here. I don't know if that's really what he had in mind originally.

Guercio: I realized after I had all this investment that we had to have cooks and we had to let people in. Even though Stephen (Stills) thinks we overcharged, we never made a penny. After the Amy Grants and some of these acts that had no money . . . what we should have done was taken points.

Altitude had its drawbacks.

Passarelli: (Bluesman) Freddie King is coming up with his bus. Three hundred pounds, he's a big man. I'll never forget. He said, 'Yeah, I'm going to need the oxygen mask right away.'

STIR CRAZY

Not everyone prized the mountain solitude

Szymczyk: If anyone wanted to go boogie at night you were in deep (trouble). You had to go down the highway to get to Boulder. The J. Geils Band, they were just complete city guys. I had to convince them, 'Come on guys, come out there.' They were not at all for the idea to come to Caribou to mix for a week and a half.

By day three they were bitching and moaning, 'Why do you have us here?' There was nothing to do but eat, sleep and work. For some that was the drawing card, for others it would drive them nuts.

Some bands ducked down to the Pioneer Inn in Nederland to jam with local bands and blow off steam. One night the late Dan Fogelberg brought up a woman from the bar in his new Toyota Land Cruiser. The woman's boyfriend found out and called, demanding she immediately leave.

Passarelli: She was so freaked out that she grabbed his keys and jumped in his new Toyota. She didn't make the turn and ended up in the lake (on the property). One of the owners of the Pioneer Inn had come up with Dan from the bar (with) $2,000 in cash from the bar and receipts. Somebody had to go down there (in the lake) and get it. They had to put them in the dryer with the clothes - drying $2,000 from the Pioneer Inn.

Carsello: Dan's going, 'Oh no, my car's ruined!' But it started. . . . I said, 'We have to do a Toyota commercial!'

Henry Diltz (legendary rock photographer): The ladies were a particularly nice feature of that place. You could become friends, you know? Those little Colorado hottie girls. There was lots of fraternization going on. These girls lived up there. They served breakfast, lunch and dinner, made your bed and put wine in your room. They were there later in the evening in case you wanted anybody to talk to.

Passarelli: The studio was the party place. The cabins, sure. But when you weren't recording you were upstairs playing pool, trying to clear your ears out a little bit, just having a grand old time up there, to say the least.

Elton John and his band drove down to the Red Barn in Boulder for burgers one day. At the time he was the richest rock star in music history.

Carsello: He said, 'I'm going to go in there and freak them out.' He's got his apple glasses on with the diamond studs. And all the people are freaking out. We were in the parking lot, watching through the window. He came out with two sacks of hamburgers and hot dogs.

IT REALLY HAPPENED

From Stevie Wonder driving to Michael Jackson's secret sessions

Stories abound from the studio's heyday, when it was constantly booked with the biggest names in music: Earth, Wind & Fire, John Lennon, America, David Cassidy, Stevie Wonder, Stevie Nicks and more.

Kate Guercio (daughter): As a kid growing up I never knew that they were any different. I loved riding horses and I'd take people horseback riding . . . not really knowing they were really famous. It was quite a unique upbringing; but I still had chores.

Guercio: Michael Jackson was here during Thriller. We were able to keep it quiet for about a week.

Carsello: People just show up at the gate. The In-a-Gadda-Da-Vida guys, Iron Butterfly, were sitting out there one day when I was driving out. They said, 'Hey, you think we can get in here?' I brought 'em in.

Passarelli: (In 1975) we took a helicopter to see the Rolling Stones at CSU. Jimmy arranged a helicopter. It was unbelievable.

Elton John joined the Stones onstage for what was supposed to be a song or two.

Guercio: Elton wouldn't get off the stage. (The Stones' road manager said) 'Jimmy, get him off the stage!' (I respond) 'It's Elton John! It's a great piano player.' 'Mick wants him off the stage!'

Carsello: They threw us all out. The road manager came backstage and said, 'Everybody from Elton John's band and the Caribou Ranch, you have to leave!' But we used their limos to go back up here. We pulled through McDonald's on the way back, a limo entourage through McDonald's.

The main lodge and its multiple bedrooms are filled with stuffed hunting trophies from the turn of the century.

Guercio: Chicago used to call this 'Slaughter in Bambi Land.' My wife collected all of the animals and put them here because she didn't approve. There was a guy down the road who was a big- game hunter. Some of these are weird - a baby grizzly mounted. He killed a baby grizzly. It gave me the creeps.

Carsello: The girls used to play pranks on the bands. They took the wild boar and put it in Billy Joel's bed. Liberty DeVitto, Billy Joel's drummer, used baby powder. They replaced it with powdered sugar. He starts sweating through his shirt. It was great stuff.

And yes, the rumor was true: Stevie Wonder drove a car at the ranch while recording with John.

Guercio: I let him drive my Jeep. Everybody went 'Auughh!' I had the wheel (without anyone knowing). I said, 'OK, go a little bit, oh no, too far!' It was the greatest thing in his life. He never forgot that.

Passarelli: (Wonder would) walk around with a Polaroid taking pictures.

Guercio: He said, 'Jimmy, is this true? Everywhere I shoot is the wilderness?' 'Yes, Stevie.'

Carsello: Stevie helped one of the girls change a flat tire. All the other guys are standing around watching her try to do it. Stevie comes out of the cabin and changes the tire for her.

Passarelli: What about when Al Green came up here?

Guercio: He wouldn't get in the station wagon. He said, 'I ain't getting in no wagon. Where's my limo? Al Green rides in a limo!'

MUSICAL MUSE

More than one song was inspired by the ranch

Passarelli: Elton John's Caribou was all written here.

Carsello: Maurice White (of Earth, Wind & Fire) wrote Shining Star up here, walking around looking at the sky. Eddie Rabbitt, Driving My Life Away, Step By Step and I Love a Rainy Night, three No. 1s in a row, all written up here. Running Bear, that's the house where Don't Let the Sun Go Down on Me was written (by John). Billy Joel wrote a lot of songs. He wrote New York State of Mind up here because he was up here: 'Been high in the Rockies under the evergreens.'

Guercio: U2 mixed their Red Rocks thing (Under A Blood Red Sky) . . . they came up to hang out and then they ended up staying and mixing that Red Rocks show.

The cover of Supertramp's "Even in the Quietest Moments" features a snow-covered grand piano on top of a Caribou mountain.

Carsello: That's Lake Eldora, right behind the ranch. We actually hauled the piano up there and blew snow on it.

Passarelli: That piano in the other room - Elton wrote the entire Rock of the Westies album in nine days. He sat with the lyric pages at that piano.

Carsello: The Beach Boys coming up here and recording Wishin' You Were Here (with Chicago) was incredible - all in the studio at the same time, stuff you just wish you'd had a motion- picture camera. When the Beach Boys did that take of Wishin' You Were Here, they tried all night. And Carl (Wilson) said, 'OK, we'll do one more. Right now.' And that's the take you hear on the song.

FIRST ENDING

How drugs and a fire ended a musical era

In March 1985 a fire started. While most of the studio was unscathed, the control room was a near-total loss.

Carsello: It was an electrical fire from a space heater in the kitchen. It started in the insulation and just smoldered from there.

Guercio could have rebuilt, but the thrill had faded as the music industry grew more decadent.

Furay: They didn't really respect what Jim had going. I guess musicians can be like that. They can trash the place out. I think Jim got frustrated with that as well.

Passarelli: There were some creative things that came out of (drugs). But it also had a bitter end and destructive end. People were spending too much on records. Budgets were too high because people were too high.

Guercio: I had kids to raise and there were a lot of drugs showing up. I just didn't want it. Then we had the fire. I said, 'Take a break.'

Though the studio proper closed in '85 (Amy Grant's "Unguarded" was the last album recorded there), that wasn't the end of music at the ranch. Producer Pat Leonard brought Jeff Beck up in the '90s and set up a ProTools rig in a cabin.

Guercio: He had all these delays - the drummer's in London, the bass player's in L.A. He had it all synchronized. They're playing (elsewhere), and Jeff Beck is sitting on the front porch.

The legend is that songs and albums made at Caribou sold 100 million copies.

Guercio: I never added it up, but that's low. Chicago says they did 100 (million), and we did 50 (million) of them there. (That doesn't count Elton John, Joe Walsh, Supertramp or others.) I thought with our track record we were the highest-rated studio in the world, but I never proved it."

Musicians have urged Guercio to reopen Caribou, to no avail.

Guercio: We might now. Mixing. You could do post (production), you could do film. Spielberg and these guys are having the same problems with union mixing. We could do it all up here."

The real issue is the current state of the music industry.

Guercio: There is no (music) business. Everybody's out of business.

• January 25, 2008

  11:34 a.m.

  Suggest removal

  I_Slay_The_Dragon writes:

  Caribou, re-opening? Whoa. The "vibes" there alone, could create
  a masterpiece. CARIBOU, re-opening?? WHOA.

• January 25, 2008

  2:33 p.m.

  Suggest removal

  Blue_Elk writes:

  Wow, what a blast from the past! I worked at the ranch in '75-'76 and every day was an experience! The people I worked with, Jimmy, Lucy, John, Tim, Jeff, Mark, Al, Jane, Brandy and of course little Katie (at that time) to name a few, made it one of my all time favorite life experiences.

  Hanging out with the artists in this environment let you see who they really were, some were good, some not so good. Meeting Sir George and watching him work (America - Hideaway album) was a highlight of my Caribou career! Being the brunt of many Peter Cetera's pranks was always a delight (sometimes). Meeting Billy Joel and not knowing who he was at the time was embarrassing, drinking wine with Britt Ekland as she taught me backgammon while Rod Stewart was upstairs working, WOW! The list goes on and on!

  The music industry suffered a great loss when the Ranch closed for recording. It would be great to see it open again, even for mixing. The air up there has magic in it, just listen to the music that came out of the "barn" and you'll see what I mean.

  I long for the day of a Caribou Ranch reunion, how 'bout it Jimmy?

• January 26, 2008

  9:47 a.m.

  Suggest removal

  Corky1 writes:

  I had almost forgotten being at CSU/Hughes stadium for the Stones concert in '75, but I clearly remember the helicopter and the buzz about who was playing the piano. If I remember correctly, CSU also hosted Chicago/Beach Boys that summer as well. Thanks for the memories with the great article.

• January 26, 2008

  6:14 p.m.

  Suggest removal

  musiclover1965 writes:

  Thank you Rocky Mountain News!
  BRING BACK CARIBOU!!!

• January 27, 2008

  3:08 a.m.

  Suggest removal

  dirkle writes:

  I was lucky enough to stay and record up there in both '75 and '78. Thanks for the piece, it brought back lots of memories.

• January 27, 2008

  8:42 a.m.

  Suggest removal

  didsdid writes:

  Why not a reunion - Maybe for a Charity of your choice.

• January 28, 2008

  6:43 p.m.

  Suggest removal

  ayeotis writes:

  Great artical, I know what it like to dive for money in the pond

• February 2, 2008

  8:30 a.m.

  Suggest removal

  rawhyde65 writes:

  This is truly a great article! As a musician/writer and a history buff, I really enjoyed the information in this article. I was only a lad from Littleton, CO. in the '70's, but I was aware that some great music was coming out of Caribou. I would borrow my brother's Joe Walsh and Elton John albums, but I never knew how many other great artist were inspired by, and worked at Caribou. Mr. Guercio, someday I'd like to meet you and shake your hand!! Please open her back up.

• February 4, 2008

  8:21 p.m.

  Suggest removal

  Queenwienie writes:

  What ever happened to Boots the gate keeper? Rose his wife that did all the cooking? Or their daughter Lisa? Anybody know I haven't been there in 24 years or so.

• February 23, 2008

  1:06 p.m.

  Suggest removal

  rorysk writes:

  Caribu (Jan-Feb 77)was one of those magical beginnings of my career !! I was there with "Return To Forever" programming Chick Corea's synthesizers. After the initial recordings the band left except Chick, Gail Moran, Stanley Clarke, manager Ron Moss, engineer Bernie Kirsch, and myself. When the entire band was there it didn't snow yet, but a few days later it was like a Christmas dream, and Jeff Guercio was telling me about the piano shoot they were going to do for the Supertramp album cover the next day. I also met Lydia Kornikoff, later to become Lydia Cornell. She set the bar of beauty/brains, and class for me. There was nothing about Caribu that I didn't fall in love with. Jeff took me on an all day snowmobile trip over most of the ranch. He showed me where they filmed Stagecoach, and the waterfall was frozen over. The food was incredible, and I remember them having a large block of headcheese on the table for Stanley Clarke. I think Stanley ordered it as a joke, but I couldn't look at it :) I remember Joe and Alan who were very much a part of the ranch and its personality. Everyone was wonderful, kind, and loved the spirit of creating. That's what made it a cut above all other studios I've been to since. I would return to Caribu visiting Pat Leonard while he was working on his solo album. I stayed in Running Bear cabin, and the magic of Caribu was still there even though the studio wasn't functioning. I would give anything to have my family stay a weekend there just to experience the beauty and integrity that Caribu offers. It was a bench mark in my life and career.