There is something about fake Western restaurants in modern buildings that makes me nervous. Maybe it's the deer heads, worn leather, and barn wood. The faux mountain ranch lodges always serve buffalo and appetizers named after cowboys and trains.

The Gold Hill Inn doesn't need to pretend. The rambling log cabin opened in 1924 as a dining hall for the next-door lodge that began serving guests and miners homespun food in 1872. In 1962 Barbara and Frank Finn opened the restaurant and sons Brian and Chris Finn have taken over. Few Colorado eateries have been operating for 41 years.

Actually, make that 41 seasons, since the eatery hibernates annually from Nov. 1 through April. The small mountain town of Gold Hill is nearly 8,500 feet in elevation, and 10 miles and several guard-rail-free hairpin turns west of Boulder.

It's hard enough getting flatlanders up there in the summer, never mind in January. Once folks are inn experienced, they return yearly, especially in autumn for a little foliage gawking.

Step from the dirt Main Street into a charming all wood lodge. The bar waiting area is one of the coolest mountain lounges anywhere. I recommend sipping a drink in a rocking chair before the crackling fireplace.

The dining area boasts mismatched wooden tables, various wooden chairs and assorted flatware with old-fashioned embroidered cloth napkins.

The inn's traditional six- course fixed price approach was immortalized in a poem by American scribe Eugene Field. In Casey's Table d'Hote he notes that ''a table d'hote is different from orderin' aller cart; in one case you git all ther is, t' other, only part!'' Everything is included except drinks from the bar.

The only ''menu'' at the Gold Hill Inn is written on a chalkboard at the entrance to the dining area. From the night's selections you choose a soup, a salad dressing, one of the seven to 10 entrees, and a dessert.

The servers start everyone off with the appetizer du jour. One night it was a simple plate of mixed melon balls with mint. On another visit we enjoyed catfish pie, a comfy corn bread square with a layer of fish and Tabasco-zapped sour cream sauce.

Each table gets at least one small loaf of the inn's charming warm, whole-wheat, pan-baked bread with butter and homemade fresh peach jam that was naturally sweet and runny.

Next, we happily slurped up a mushroom soup in an onion-soup-like broth and warmed to a two bean and fresh corn chowder. Some liked the cold creamy green grape soup made from fruit grown by the elder Finns, but it was more smoothie than soup.

The house salad piled with raw beet shreds, bell pepper, radish and house-bread croutons comes with three dressings. Our favorite was a letter- perfect chunky bleu cheese dressing. We could have skipped a very thick plum ''vinaigrette'' and the ''Casey,'' a modified Caesar needing grated Parmesan.

Don't come here looking for edgy techniques, foamed sauces and hard-to-explain ingredients. It's a sensible dinner, not a culinary epiphany.

The hit dish of our visits was smoked trout. The Finns cold smoke the trout with pear wood in a refrigerator. Filled with bread stuffing, it's cooked on the grill, creating very moist flesh instead of jerky. This is true Colorado cuisine.

Another winner is grilled pork chops in a super- mild green chili sauce that had the flavor but none of the heat. I ate some with a little peach jam.

The menu always includes two grilled seafood dishes. We thoroughly enjoyed a slab of California seabass - that's the environmentally correct seabass. The light, white, flaky flesh was the perfect medium for a great cilantro pesto sauce. The same was true of the opa, a white fish bedded with mango salsa.

The most popular entree is probably the bacon-wrapped beef tournedos. The big cut of filet was lovely - although the bacon wasn't crisp. The accompanying hunter sauce unfortunately featured too-crunchy vegetables and a heavy hand with the red wine. Other entrees can include lamb, duck, salmon or paella.

Entrees come with bland wild rice pilaf, boiled red potatoes, or - if you're lucky - chunky mashers. ''It's a chunky kind of place,'' said one of my guests.

The server brings out the vegetables of the day in an iron skillet and dishes your choice of one or all three. We reveled in the lovely crisp bok choy sauteed in toasted sesame seed oil. The steamed buttered corn on the cob sported traditional dark yellow kernels that are starchier with a more pronounced corn flavor than the modern supersweets. Baked summer squash was too mushy and mild.

The service is uniformly friendly and unpretentious - this is the mountains after all. The wine cellar includes lots of hearty reds - old vine zinfandels and merlots - that match up well with the victuals.

After the many courses, the modest dessert portions were welcome. You'll make room for the not-too-sweet flourless chocolate torte. We also gave a thumbs-up to a custardy sour cream apple pie with brown sugar crumb topping, and the inn's frozen mint milk chocolate mousse cup.

The final treat is a simple cheese course that graciously bookends a unique adventure. The server dishes good Cheddar, strong bleu cheese and a smoky gouda plus grapes, apple slices and crunchy toast strips.

I should note that I've known members of the Finn family for many years, so this was not an anonymous review. Still, I know that everyone is treated well at the Gold Hill Inn. That's why dinner is still being served there 41 years later.