Even beginners can learn the ropes at this world-class ski resort in the US

I feel like the victim of an elaborate practical joke. Standing on the gentle if negligible slope of Panda Peak, I can feel beads of sweat forming under the excessive layers I've put on today as I attempt to master this unfamiliar, icy terrain.

I look over to my left and take in the sheer drops which set the scene for the gravity- and death-defying jumps of a junior ski and snowboard competition that's going on right now. Through my hefty ski boots, my toes curl as if to grab the ground below and avoid my own plummet down a mountainside - an actual impossibility that has become a certainty in my mind.

Someone better be getting a laugh out of this, at least.

A trip to Aspen, Colorado, with the purpose of skiing is about as obvious as it gets. I only have to tell people where I am going and they know what's coming next. They usually ask if I'm going to ski.

"Yes I am."

"How much have you skied before?"

"Zero."

Why would an Australian go all the way to Aspen to ski as a first-timer? A colleague likens it to learning to drive in a Rolls-Royce. But finding a novice skier in Aspen isn't that rare. Actually, beginners make up a huge proportion of the Aspen ski economy. Australians, too, are strongly represented.

As it goes, when couples visit the town, it's often found one half is there to ski while the other takes in the town's world-class art, dining and shopping. So Aspen's mountain managers can see a way to double the visitor count, among certain demographics. This is why they're chucking me down a mountainside for four days.

The Aspen Ski Company has poured $US24 million into making it easier for newbies to get started, redeveloping much of the base of the Buttermilk to help get visitors kitted up, ticketed and ready to go as smoothly and efficiently as possible.

The ski school at Aspen has about 1300 instructors on its four mountains at the season's peak, which gives you an idea how many beginners hit slopes. Their experience ranges, but if you're lucky enough to get an instructor with more than a few Aspen seasons under their belt, you're in for a trip. Their proximity to extreme wealth here means that at some points in the year, they're just a text message away from a client whisking them to Europe in a private jet for a whirlwind ski trip. Just because.

Serious skiers and snowboarders from around the world make a point of returning to Aspen as often as possible. Everyone else would more likely know Aspen as a playground of the world's rich and famous. A few days into my trip, word has quickly spread that Prince Harry is in town.

Ask anyone who's had a few years in town and you'll hear a story about celebrity and its casual infiltration of Aspen. In perspective, the permanent population is about 7000, about half as big as Gunnedah, NSW. Yet Jeff Bezos once rode a horse through town. Locals and regular visitors have met Ringo Starr and, separately, the Kardashians at the Little Nell. My instructor points to the airport runway, neighbouring the Buttermilk resort to the north, where half a dozen private jets have just landed.

But I'm finding it hard to get lost in the lives of the other half. There's very real turmoil happening on top of Panda Peak. My first exposure to a chairlift brings on full-blown, hyperventilating panic, followed by shaking limbs after anxiously, and safely, alighting. There's no bar and no strap on the Panda Peak chair. Just a vinyl seat hanging on a wire, at times more than 10 metres above the ice and snow below.

I later joke with my travelling party that the sorest muscles in my body after two days of skiing are in my forearm, such is my grip on the chair's left-hand arm. As the rewards of each somewhat smoother ride on skis are being revealed, I end up taking dozens of rides on this lift. But my grip never really loosens.

There is no doubt skiing here is an activity for the elite. On the shuttle to the mountain, I see two children, no older than seven or eight, dressed head-to-toe in designer Moncler gear. In town, cowboy outfitter to the stars Kemo Sabe will put a custom hat on your head, a vintage bolo tie on your neck and a bespoke belt around your waist for close to $US4000. (My Diamond Peak jacket and Aldi brand ski pants were bought from Canberra op-shops for a grand total of $37. The pants still had the tag on them.)

But amid the showiness all around, the skiing forces you to face very real fears and questions the way you approach life's challenges. As in life, to go further and faster, I must let go. The grace of an experienced skier will never be available to me as long as my brain runs its endless calculations about the ever present, but extremely slim, possibility of the worst outcome.

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The key to skiing is embracing nothingness, trusting instincts once the skills are formed. In the meantime, trying to process and apply new knowledge and fight the fears manifests in a very slow, stilted wedge down a gentle slope. My instructor has worked wonders to get me to this point, but progress is happening. And when the penny drops, the feeling of actually skiing is unmatched. It's a thrilling coalescence of environment, body and mind all going in the one direction. Sure, I am only on the beginners' Panda Peak. But as I flick the tails of my skis out to make stilted yet sweeping turns, which would have blown the mind of my recent self having a panic attack on the chairlift, it's glorious. The tension in my feet releases and I push my shoulders back. The sun is making me sweat, but I finally feel a cool breeze on my face.

In a town synonymous with celebrity, attainment, privilege and status, perhaps, the rarest thing you can be is an adult out of their comfort zone who tries, fails and tries again. In a world of diamonds, it feels good to be a dirty snowball who rolled when everything inside said freeze.

Dinner: Parc. Luxe seasonal menu with a French flavour. Roots and grains is a flavourful, filling, meat-free dish. Follow the little piggies on the menu

West End Social. Attached to the Aspen Meadows resort, most meals here are served on shareplates. It's a great way to unwind with company as you swap meals and stories from the slopes. Try the potato gnocchi.

Apres: Ajax Tavern. At the foot of Aspen Mountain, it's the bar of choice for the high-rollers. The people watching on offer is unparalleled. It's a little tricky to get a table in the late afternoon. If you can snag a seat, try the truffle fries.

Coffee: Sant Ambroeus. A cosy cafe with a selection of sweet treats and meals. Try the cold brew.

Bring sunscreen: Aspen is an outdoors town. While I stayed fairly rugged up, the sky was mostly clear and my nose got roasted.

Public toilet paucity: America is not well equipped compared to Australia. Venues bustling with people might be lucky to have one or two lavs in the restrooms.

It's not as cold as you expect: I was a bit puzzled on day one when instructors were saying the forecast top of 6 degrees Celsius was going to be toasty. You warm very quickly in ski gear and you can burn a lot of energy doing very little while finding your feet on skis.

Dehydration: You work up a real thirst just being at higher altitudes. Take a drink wherever you can throughout the day.

Blundstone boots: From the attendants at cosmopolitan cowboy clobber store Kemo Sabe, to staff at the five-star Little Nell and many places in between, Tassie's working boot brand is the cobbler of choice in Aspen.

Explore more: aspensnowmass.com; skimax.com.au

The writer was a guest of Aspen Snowmass and Delta Air Lines, which flies to Aspen from Sydney via Los Angeles.