Hey, couch surfin' ain't really about the couch. It's the shower that counts. Couches are just the whitecap on the wave. To ride the surf in Telluride, you need only to get shower privileges; after that, a warm, horizontal place to crash is a customary off-shore break that should just come in with the rolls.
When looking for a place to surf, consider a hostel not just by the host, but turn the shower knob to see what the real waves look like. Let the tide be your guide in Telluride.
Oak Street Inn - Begin your stay with the mandatory hyperventilation that complements your spiral staircase ascent. Then, be fully charmed with the quaint simplicity as you open your (closet) door.
The shower is just a few towelwraps down the hall. An hour shower, two toilets, and lots of paranoia will throttle your sensations as you'll wonder after you've left whether or not the bathroom was co-ed.
Check-out time is three dollars to broke. Two stars.
Bobby's Bungalow - Welcome all who wish to eat, drink, fest or watch. (Or is that watch fester?) The kitchen is usually clean, but leftovers have been known to wink at the women. The Bungalow always smells good, as long as you like dinner heavily spiced with skiego. Apres skiing is a real delight with the $50,000 selection of (stolen?) alcohol.
The shower is dark, but the water pressure is tenacious and will all but shred the flesh from your vertebrae. Check-out time is One Blonde. Four stars.
KenBob's Chicken Coop - It ain't fancy, but ol' Kenbob got himself a good, plump wife that has the grub on the table with all the fixin's; and after a hard day on the plow, Ken'll tell-ya to kick back and have a beer— as long as it's not his last. Caution: KenBob's dog will kill a man on the attack word "cookie." Definitely don't sleep on the couch.
The bathroom's chilly, and prit-near colder than a miner's ass. The water just trickles out, but it's hot and ol' Ken don't mind if ya stand in there a coon's age. Check-out time: Two new kin comin' in. Five stars.
LV's Olive - If seclusion and privacy are your intentions, the Olive is your stay of choice. Run of house; a short stagger from Telluride; nightly entertainment by a trio of ballerina poodles. (Caution: One may try to seduce you.)
The shower is a squeeze to the right, and 12 minutes of sheer joy. It's a unique experience marked by an instantaneous switch to brisk Colorado runoff. Check-out time is a surprise early-morning underwear scramble. Four stars.
Doogie's Den - Stay a day and be on yer way; the shower works. Check-out time: One rectal Tecnica.
Matt's Mat - Plain Jane, no frills, key if you're lucky. If soft, warm and horizontal is what you're looking for, you'll find two out of three isn't bad; and warm is sort of a compromise. The floor is hard, but it's cold, too. Matt will gladly give you the shirt off his back, but he always wants it back. The place is still under construction, so you sure won't make buds without any friends. (Or something...)
The shower is tight, but the hot water will come for hours— as long as the construction guys feel the need to have it turned on. Check-out time: I don't know, but when the surf goes flat, this dude's seaweed.