• Category Archives The West
  • Who?

    Imbolc                                                                      Settling Moon II

    As the dominant ethos of Minnesota lies in its wild lands to the north, the Boundary Waters Wilderness and Voyageurs National Park emblematic of it, so the dominant ethos of Colorado lies in its wrinkled skin, mountains thrusting up from north to south and from the Front Range to the west. Where Minnesota’s map is essentially flat, marked with depressions filled with either water or wetlands or peat bogs, Colorado’s map is tortured, angular chunks of rock shoved up this way and that, lonely roads tailing off into gulches and canyons and valleys.

    These two states share a common theme, wild nature at their core. You may live in these states and never trek in the mountains or visit the lake country; it is possible, but if that is you, then you shun the basic wealth of the land which you call home. In these two states, as in several other western states like Idaho, Washington, Montana, Oregon the political borders that mark them out matter much less than the physical features that define them.

    In these places the heart can listen to the world as it once was and could be again. This is a priceless and necessary gift. It may be found in its purest form in the areas designated as wilderness, but these lands participate in wild nature in their totality. Those of us lucky enough to live within them have a privilege known only by occasional journeys to city dwellers. With that privilege comes, as with all privilege, responsibility.

    These places which speak so eloquently, so forcefully when seen are silent out of view. On the streets of Manhattan, inside the beltway of Washington, in the glitter of Las Vegas and the sprawl of Los Angeles these places shimmer only in photographs, movie and television representation, books and their power is not in them.

    Who will speak for the mountains? Who will speak for the North Woods and its waters? Who will speak for the trees?


  • The Fort

    Winter                                                                                       Settling Moon II

     

    Took my sweetheart out to eat last night. We went to The Fort. This unusual restaurant is about 30 minutes from Conifer in Morrison, near the Red Rocks Amphitheater. It began as a suburban foothills home, but when the cost of the adobe construction began to exceed budget the lower level became a restaurant, The Fort, and the upper level family living space.

    The Fort models itself to some extent on Bent’s Fort, a trading post that was “the only major white American permanent settlement on the Santa Fe Trail between Missouri and the Mexican settlements” according to Wikipedia. (Bent’s Fort reconstruction)

    In addition to the adobe facade the Fort took as its guide the cuisine available in the 1830’s along the Santa Fe trail and served at Bent’s Fort.

    Kate and I chose their game plate:  “Our most popular dish! A bone-in Elk chop, Buffalo sirloin medallion, and a grilled teriyaki Quail. Served with seasonal vegetables, Fort potatoes, and wild Montana huckleberry preserves.” The buffalo was tender and cooked perfectly. The elk chop, while tasty with the huckleberry sauce, had some gristle. Kate enjoyed the quail.

    Our table over looked night time Denver in the distance to the east, twinkling in shimmers of air rising from the plain. It was not cheap, but the ambiance, the unusual menu and the company made it worthwhile.

     


  • Weathering

    Winter                                                                             Settling Moon II

    Another 68 degree day. This has moved past a January thaw into a January spring time. I walked around in the back, on the completely thawed out areas and did find some green leaves, especially a thick velvety leaf. There was also bright green moss growing on the ground and a dull green lichen spreading over a rock. The ice melts and flows around the tiny rocks, flakes, large flakes of a tannish-pink rock, then seeps into the soil at least part way.

    This kind of thawing, followed by freezing, is a soil-making process. It is the slow, very slow process of eroding away Shadow Mountain. First the rock becomes soil, then rain and streams carry the soil down the mountain. Eventually, there are soft foot-hills or aged peaks like the Appalachians.

    Shadow Mountain is even more basic an environment than Anoka County in Minnesota. Northern Anoka County has a high water table that has resisted development and retained the rural, northwoods atmosphere that has made it special. Yet here on Shadow Mountain even development is not as much of an active force as snow and rain, cold and heat. To transform northern Anoka County all that would be required would be an increased drainage of wetlands. Unlikely to happen now, yes, due to stringent requirements on the conservation of wetlands, but possible. Here it would require explosives, massive earth and rock moving equipment and years of time. Even then there would still be the bulk of Shadow Mountain left. It’s just not economically viable, thank god.


  • Ordinary Things

    Winter                                                                            Settling II Moon

    Exactly a month has passed since we got here. A lot of ordinary things have happened: boxes opened, license plates changed and driver’s licenses as well, found a vet, a place to do our business meetings, grocery store and pharmacies, furniture assembled. That sort of thing.

    Each one of these and others like them have begun to layer over our Minnesota identities, helped us reorient to Colorado, to the mountains, to our new home. Like those Russian nesting dolls, we will not so much replace the Minnesota identity as overlay it with a new one, pushing the Indiana and Iowa, Wisconsin and Texas identities further down in our psyches. In that sense we are hyphenated so I am an Okie-Hoosier-Badger-Gopher-Coloradan while Kate is a Gopher-Iowa-Texas-Gopher-Coloradan.

    Taking Gabe to the National Western Stock Show yesterday (Ruth got sick.) was a not so ordinary part of this process. Though I’ve taken the grandkids to the Stock Show for several years this was the first time I went as a Coloradan and Westerner. When the Westernaires, a precision and trick riding group from Jefferson County, rode out during the rodeo, we cheered. These were the home county kids.

    The gestalt of being at the Stock Show was different, too. Before I would look at the rhinestone jeans, the oversized belt buckles, Stetson hats and cowboy boots as evidence of a different tribe, one that lived far from my Scandinavian minimalist home in Minnesota. Now I have to take them as my neighbors, my fellow Coloradans. That means I have to place myself among them, rather than apart from them. The difference may seem subtle, but in sizing up this new, outer layer of the nesting doll that I am, it makes a big difference.

    Another gestalt that has a lot psychic friction is geological. Mountains not lakes, pines not deciduous, arid not wet, high not flat, thin dry air not moist heavy air. These are not subtle dialectics that gradually make themselves felt, but insistent, body changing realities that affect daily life. All this frisson enlivens me, makes me wake up to my world. It makes the change worthwhile.


  • Stripping Away the Minnesota Identity Markers

    Winter                                                                    Settling Moon

    Over to Evergreen today. Jefferson County Sheriff’s office verified the VIN on the Rav4 so it could have its title converted to a Colorado one. That got done. Only time I can remember when I thought (semi-) fondly of Jesse Ventura. Since he drove a Porsche, he made a key point of his administration lowering vehicle registration costs. He has not been governor here.

    More fun than that. Right next door is the Evergreen branch of the Jefferson County Public Library. New library cards! Libraries are one of the world’s key institutions and they relax me the minute I enter them. This one has a lot of good photography hung including one spectacular portrait of a buffalo.

    It also has a reading room with a surrounding circle of tall windows. They overlook a lone pine tree with a large boulder just to its left. Felt like good feng shui to me, but then what do I know?

    Outings like this, not really all that demanding, wear us out still. Nap.

    After the nap Kate went to the King Sooper to get supplies.

    The National Western Stockshow starts on the 10th and this will be my 5th year taking the grandkids. This year Gabe and Ruth and I will see Superdogs (not so hot really, but Gabe finds the idea enthralling). The rest of the family will join us later for a chainsaw art demonstration and a bit of time petting the superdogs.

    At 6:00 pm Jon, Jen, Ruth, Gabe, Barb and I will attend the MLK rodeo which features African-American cowboys and cowgirls. Family stuff. Good.


  • Signs and Portents

    Winter                                                   Settling Moon

    Signs and portents. While studying the Hebrew scriptures, I learned that a true prophet was one whose prophecies came true. A false prophet? Well…

    Reading the signs that come into our lives. Difficult, but inevitable. Three instances. When I first came here on Samain, October 31st, for the closing, I found three large mule deer bucks in the backyard. They looked me, curious. I returned the curiosity. I moved closer and they stayed in place. On later reflection they seemed to be spirits of Shadow Mountain investigating a new resident.

    Second. When Tom and I drove out here on December 20th, we encountered heavy fog in Nebraska. Then, the sky was clear and the stars out. The suddenness of the change took both Tom and me by surprise. A physical moment crossing from the humid east into the arid west, a welcome home to our new region.

    Third. Shortly after crossing this barrier, a very bright and what appeared close shooting star, perhaps multiple shooting stars gathered together, flashed across the northwestern sky. Again, it took Tom and me by surprise. A confirmation of the second sign and welcome to the clan of those who have traveled this way before.

    The wonderful thing about omens is this, they are multivalent, open to multiple interpretations. As our life here becomes more settled, their import might change.


  • A Little Hard to Grasp

    Samain                                                        Moving Moon

    Jon came and cleared out a path for the movers. Ruth worked at it, too, with a plastic avalanche shovel. Even Jon, living in Denver, got winded shoveling snow up here, another 3,600 feet higher. Throughout this whole process, people have been kind and sweet. Tom’s driving. Jon’s shoveling. The docents partying. Even Eric, the kennel master at Armstrong Kennels told us we were good dog people and he was sorry to see us go. That’s real praise.

    The only move part left of the move is the van coming on Monday. After that we’ll be settling. Oh, there are plenty of sequelae like selling that other house we own, paying the movers, doing some reconfiguring in the kitchen, getting acclimatized, but the move itself will be over on Monday once our stuff returns to us. That’s a big deal in my mind and I will retire the Move category from the posts.

    The enormity of this change is still a little hard to grasp. We’re no longer Minnesotans, but Coloradans. We’re no longer flatlanders but mountain dwellers. We’re no longer Midwesterners. Now we are of the West, that arid, open, empty space. These changes will change us and I look forward to that. The possibility of becoming new in the West has long been part of the American psyche, now I’ll test it for myself.


  • Higher, Dryer, Thinner

    Samain                                                                               Moving Moon

    The new header photograph is the King Sooper parking lot in Aspen Park, about four miles away from our house on Black Mountain Drive. This King Sooper has a Lund’s type supermarket feel to it though it’s much larger than any of the Lund’s stores I’ve shopped.

    We’re moving from an Oak Savannah eco-system, one growing on the Great Anoka Sandplain, the remnant of a glacial river Warren, which cut the bed for the Mississippi, to a montane eco-system, growing on pulverized rock and dominated by lodgepole pine, moss and small alpine plants.

    Here the links run east to the Big Woods, north to the Boreal Forest and west to the Great Plains. In the Rockies the eco-systems link north and south along this mountain range, a tall, stone spine which extends far into Canada.

    Our lot in Andover is about 900 feet above sea level and the highest point in our immediate area. Black Mountain Drive is at 8,800 feet on Shadow Mountain, approximately 9,200 feet. So the air will be considerably thinner and the nights cooler year round.

    The West is arid, being west of the line which separates the humid east, 20+ inches of rain a year, from the arid West, less than 20 inches of rain per year. That means water will be a dominant environmental and political issue in Colorado.

    We’ll be in a higher, dryer and far less biologically diverse eco-system. A distinct change.

     


  • Hmmm.

    Samain                                                                             Moving Moon

    Here is an interesting conundrum. Should I let my Colorado self emerge out of the casual interactions inherent in moving to a new location: talking to mechanics, visiting the grocery store, dining at the 285 cafe? Or, should I try to shape it, finding like minded folks through obvious clusterings such Sierra Club, the Denver Art Museum, the Democratic party? Sure, it will be a bit of both, I know, but where I should place my emphasis?

    As I have been discussing the move, I’ve emphasized the loss of the Woollies, my docent friends, the sheepshead guys and the thick web of history here after 40 plus years. One straight line of thinking is to investigate the sociology of Denver for nodes of persons whom I might meet with similar tastes and interests. That’s why I’ve mentioned politics and the Sierra Club as likely sources for new friends.

    And yet. Another part of me, reinforced by some reading in Kierkegaard and an article by a professor on why he has left politics behind (politics or productivity in his mind), have given me pause. Not to mention the onrushing reality of the move. No, I don’t have to make a decision soon, or ever for that matter, but I want to.

    Why? Because I don’t want to create a sticky fly trap for my self. I don’t want to make commitments in order to meet people that will result in my needing to pull back later. Right now I’m thinking that politics, though a strong and thrumming wire wound throughout my life, is just such a fly trap. As would be volunteering at one of the museums. Long drives. Winter weather. I dropped both Sierra Club and the MIA for those reasons and, to underscore the professor’s logic, to enable my productivity.

    A Colorado, a mountain, a western, a grandpop self will come into being if I live my life, flowing from here to there as events take me. I want the productivity that I find so dependent on having my own time and my own space. Guess that’s my answer for right now.

     


  • New Possibilities

    Samain                                                                  New (Closing) Moon

    An odd part of the process. I’ve been taking my novel manuscripts off their shelves and putting them, plus their research, into banker’s boxes. I get to find the occasional rejection letter, see proof of past effort, wonder about writing. After hearing Ursula Le Guin’s speech at the National Book Awards (posted below), I found myself getting excited about writing again.

    The whole commercial aspect of writing just does not appeal to me. Writing, on the other hand, does. So, when I get the study in order in Colorado, that leather chair and Chinese character green rug positioned in front of the window overlooking Black Mountain, a new novel will get going. Probably not a continuation of the Unmaking trilogy, but you never know. We’ll see what happens once I’m in the new environment.

    Travel stimulates my imagination and I’m sure Colorado will do the same, probably over a sustained period of time since it will be all new places, with other new ones not far away. Also, being alone. Kate’s found a perfect place for me, a sort of aerie, a loft space on the second floor with a mountain view. The combination of new places and spaces. Wow.

    At last all the pragmatic, git ‘r done energy can shift toward new possibilities. We’re not moved, no. And, we’re not 100% ready, but it’s clear we will be and we know where we’re going. Everything else feels marginal.