Journey To The San Juan’s
I’ve always been afflicted by the frequently false notion that the grass is greener on the other side. I always want to be somewhere other than where I am. California, Colorado, Utah, New Mexico, Canada, anywhere but the Bible Belt, a cultural enclave for Bush loving neocons, soccer moms in Hummers and air so thick it soaks your shirt in less than a minute once you step outdoors.
This summer, I was starting to really get fidgety and angry, more so than usual, desperate to escape to the mountains and leave my problems behind, although I realized that one or two weeks in the mountains isn’t going to change the effects of 50 weeks in city. Maybe I should start reading more Gary Snyder and his “Zen bullshit,” as Abbey called it.
So, I booked a trip to southwest Colorado, a place I had visited two years ago for Abbeyfest, but this time I insisted Allison come along so she could see what all the fuss was about.
Over the years Allison has patiently tolerated my wanderlust, frequently left home to raise the kids and defend our urban homestead against bill collectors, door to door evangelists, brown recluse spiders, flying squirrels and mask wearing invaders otherwise known as raccoons.
What fuss? I think Colorado, despite its apparently high number of Republicans, has a completely different vibe than the south. The landscape is obviously different, but so is the culture. It’s a mecca for hikers, backpackers, cyclists and climbers, where people exalt the great outdoors. In places like Ridgway, there’s a slower pace of life, something I’m not sure they can maintain as the crowds and real estate values increase. There can be little doubt there is a creeping and metastasizing mass growing in southwest Colorado, something Abbey correctly identified in his essay, “Telluride Blues-A Hatchet Job” in The Journey Home. Just drive through Durango if you don’t believe me.
HI:
Any idea where Abbeyfest 2006 will be
held and when?
CK
