Vail Legend Packy Walker Signs New Book at Library

Aspen —The Vail Library lobby smells faintly of old paper and floor wax, a quiet sanctuary before the evening’s noise begins. Outside, the October wind rakes through the aspens, turning the leaves gold against the blue sky. Inside, a small table waits, covered in copies of a new book, ready for the man who wrote it to arrive.

Douglas “Packy” Walker is coming. He’s the guy who’s been causing trouble in Vail since the 1960s, the local legend whose name is practically synonymous with mischief. And on Thursday, Oct. 22, at 5 p.m., he’s going to be here, in person, to sign his latest work.

Lynn Albers, the library’s tech and local history specialist, framed the event as a celebration of the town’s colorful heritage. She promised light refreshments — specifically, Johnny Weddle’s famous charcuterie tray — and plenty of reminiscing. The books are $30, and cash or check is preferred.

But why go? Because the stories you haven’t heard yet are better than the ones you think you know. The Vail Daily’s “Trailblazers” series suggests that Walker’s tales are somewhat PG, though his reputation suggests otherwise. Think of the drunken shenanigans in the early days of Vail. Think of the satirical Fourth of July parade costumes that sometimes got him tossed by the cops. Think of the general “merry pranksters of mayhem” hijinks with Dave Garton, his partner in crime since the sixties.

If you want to get warmed up before the signing, the Vail Daily points to a January 2021 Vail Valley Voices oral history with Walker and Garton. It was interviewed by Dave’s son, Bart Garton, and “moderated” by the Vail Daily’s own Tony Mauro, the “Voice of Vail.”

In that recording, Garton recounts a specific incident involving a paint gun battle in East Vail. It was supposed to be twenty guys on each side. But one player, Dan Mulroney, owner and operator of Bart & Yeti’s, said he wasn’t feeling well. So they started with nineteen.

They drove past the Vail Golf Course, still mad as hell, with grease paint on their eyes and camouflage on. Five or six cars with 19 adult males. Walker interjected, “Adult?”

Then they found out Mulroney wasn’t sick. He had an invitation to go golfing. He was golfing instead of fighting. So the 19 guys, running around, attacked his foursome. Mulroney fell down, and they started shooting little fat Mules.

That’s the kind of story you’ll hear. Not just the summary. The texture. The specific detail of a missing player and a golf course detour.

Packy Walker’s book signing isn’t just a transaction. It’s a chance to meet the man behind the myths. The library will be full of locals, probably holding glasses of scotch, listening to the banter. The charcuterie tray will be gone quickly. The books will be signed.

And then, later, you’ll flip through your copy, and you’ll remember the scene. The quiet lobby. The wind outside. The table with the books. The man in the flesh, standing there, ready to tell you the rest.

The part everyone skips past is the best part. And that matters because it’s the part that makes you laugh until you cry, even if you’re sitting in a library chair with a $30 book in your lap.

So, go. Grab a copy. Meet the man. Listen to the tales. You won’t regret it. Unless you’re Dan Mulroney. But even then, you might.