Bears in Yellowstone

Scared Babies

Scared Babies

In the 1950’s there were lots of bears in Yellowstone National Park.  Despite warnings, people fed them, got out of their cars to photograph them, and listened to the campground garbage cans being raided.  I saw hundreds of bears in Yellowstone, but have seen only one in the wild elsewhere.

I was never in danger there, but did have a few experiences.  We traveled with a nineteen foot travel trailer, which made camping a lot easier.  On one trip we were in a campground near the Firehole River so my father could fly fish.  A sow and her two cubs had established residence close to all that food in the trash cans.  The Park Service decided it was dangerous to have them in the campground and decided to trap them.  The trap they used was mounted on a trailer.  It was made from a ten foot section of galvanized 48″ culvert, closed at one with a trap door at the other end.  They put bait up near the closed end with a trigger arrangement that closed the door when moved.

It worked.  It trapped mom, but the cubs were outside.  What a noise!  She sent the cubs up a tree and they cried.  Mom roared.  I don’t remember when she was trapped but it was still dark, and there was no more sleeping for anyone in the campground.  The Rangers showed up around 8:00 AM and stood around trying to decide what to do.  The usual procedure was to haul the bears to a remote area some distance from the capture point and release them there.

Bear in Trap

Bear in Trap

This would not work here, with two howling cubs up a tree.  Why hadn’t they thought of this beforehand?  Three bears making enough noise to be heard at Old Faithful and a couple dozen campers standing around watching the fun.  The Rangers thought about moving the trap across the creek and releasing her there.  Would she charge back on a rampage?  Would she stay there with two cubs across the creek afraid to come out of their tree?  Would she cross the creek, collect the kids send then go on a rampage?

The Rangers were reluctant to release her right there, afraid of a rampage.  Dilemma.  Lots of standing around and talking.  They finally chased all the campers away some distance away and let her loose.  She called the cubs out of the tree but they were reluctant and even noisier, then they came down, and all three left the campground in a hurry.  Everyone was relieved to not have a berserk bear in their midst.

1955 Nash

1955 Nash

On another trip my friend Mike was along.  There was a bear visiting the campground each night.  My parents were in the trailer, and Mike and I slept on the reclining seats in the 1955 Nash (shudder).  We decided to leave the windows down and shoot the bear with our slingshots when he came around.

We had a metal cooler with lunch food that we kept in the car when traveling.  It was on the ground outside the car with good smells coming from it.  We slept, than something woke me up.  I heard something outside and poked Mike to wake him up.  We loaded our slingshots and looked out.  A BEAR!  Just out the window.  A big bear!  Never have hand cranked windows gone up so fast.  No shooting bears that night.

Backpacking in the San Juans

Getting Off at Needleton

Getting Off at Needleton

My backpacking days are over.  I’m old, I have a titanium knee, and I hurt in lots of places.  The inspiration for this piece is Reese Whitherspoon’s Wild.  The movie is about a woman who decided to pull her life together by backpacking the Pacific Crest Trail.  She did it and found herself on the way.  I didn’t find myself backpacking, but had some experiences that are still with me.  I even had some parallel experiences, the main one being: don’t go on a long backpack with boots that don’t fit unless you enjoy pain.

On a long trip through the San Juans, my boots were too small.  We took the narrow gauge train from Durango to Needleton, just a stop on the line halfway to Silverton.  We got quite a few looks from the flatland tourists as we got off for a trail into a canyon a long way from anywhere.  From the trailhead it was several uphill miles to Chicago Basin in the heart of the Needle Mountains, where we planned to spend some time.

Don't Buy Them Too Small

Don’t Buy Them Too Small

About halfway, we came across some guys helping their friend with a badly sprained ankle to get to the railhead.  He was in serious pain, unable to put any weight on his ankle.  His friends were looking pretty strained.  That first trail is where I began learning about my boots.  It was the seventies when you had to have those massive European climbing boots for a walk in City Park.    I think I spent something like $200.00 for them.  I was determined they would fit OK once they were broken in.  Hint: those things could be so worn out the soles are falling off, but they won’t be broken in.  There was only one thing to do, keep walking.

Chicago Basin

Chicago Basin

Chicago Basin was miraculous.  It is a large glacial basin ringed by mountains, three of them fourteeners.  Windom Peak, Sunlight Mountain, and Mt. Aeolus.  The area is full of thirteeners, not as famous, but challenging.  It is steep country.  Most of the San Juans are volcanic, but the Needles are the cores of ancient mountains, much older than the relatively recent volcanos.

In the 1970’s, the United States Geological Survey was changing from 15 minute topographical maps to 7 1/2 minute maps.  The map for the Needle Mountains was somewhat behind in the revisions.  It was published in 1900.  No color, no modern changes to man-made features, but still useful for navigation. 7 1/2 minutes is roughly 7 miles.  It is possible to walk through the area covered in one day.  The Needle map was 15 minutes with a note to add eight feet to each elevation.  No GPS in those days, just triangulating from one peak to another.

The Needle Mountains are one of the most remote mountain ranges in Colorado.  A big glacier once sat in that basin at the foot of those mountains and ground away for a long time.  There are lots of places in the Rocky Mountains with great views, and Chicago Basin is right up there.  The other good thing is that it is hard to get to.  Keeps the riffraff out.  We had the basin to ourselves, even during the backpacking boom.

Columbine Pass

Columbine Pass

As a bonus, the weather was good.  When it was time to leave, we thought a good breakfast was in order.  Pancakes and coffee.  Lots of both.  We struck camp and headed over Columbine Pass.  The trail switchbacks up that glaciated wall to a summit over twelve thousand feet high.  Hint number two: don’t climb a steep trail at high altitude with a stomach full of pancakes.  They didn’t feel like pancakes, they felt like lead in there.  I guess suffering is one of the aspects of backpacking.

The descent led us to Vallecito Creek, and a long hike to Vallecito Reservoir, where my father gave us a ride to the car in Durango.  Now, it is day hikes or four wheeling.  The knees are the first to go.

Colorado Rain, Ritual

Denver floodRain for a month.  In Colorado!  The climate change deniers must be having second thoughts.  It rains on the unrighteous (Republicans) as well as the righteous (me).  The upside is that we have been finishing up our landscaping project which began with our new garage last summer.  There are just a few loose ends, a little planting, support for the raspberry bushes, and cleaning up after the hailstorm.

Some of our new plants are a bit ragged, but I don’t think we lost anything.  Our neighborhood does not seem to get quite the weather extremes as other areas in the metro area.  We have a lot of leaves down I will rake up if it ever dries out.  I had sense enough to put my pickup in the garage before Thursday’s hailstorm.

Climate change.  It seems like this area will be wetter with more extreme events than in the recent geologic past.  Our front range mountains are good at catching moisture brought in from both gulfs by a low pressure system south of here.  Some call it the Albuquerque Low.  Unfortunately, it doesn’t bring much rain to California.

This area may become something of an oasis in a growing desert.   What is clear is that we can no longer count on the status quo.  Humanity has to drastically reduce the amount of carbon dioxide we pump into the atmosphere.  Of course, the earth seems to have self-correcting systems that restore a balance.  It takes a long time however, and may mean the extinction of the species responsible for disrupting things.  Once again the adage is proven true:  “In the long run, we are all dead.”

On a completely different subject, I am I the coffee shop right next to the Denver University campus and today is graduation day.  There were all these people all dressed up at 8:00 in the morning.  The woman across from me at the table flew in from L.A. Last night for her best friends graduation.  These rituals were on the wane for lots of years.  I did not even entertain the idea of add ending my graduation from CSU, but of course it was the sixties.  The only important ritual was passing the doobie.

Preschool

Preschool

Now ritual seems to be returning.  The Masons and the American Legion are dying out, but preschoolers are wearing caps and gowns to graduate.  Ritual brings us together, and we need more.  I don’t know what will replace the obsolete organizations, but something will probably happen.  People need one another, and have to come together to reaffirm that need.  Which reminds me, my 55th High School reunion is in September

The Dentist Part Two

 

Dentistry

Dentistry

I wrote in March about my dental phobia.  I home with a temporary crown.  The last three months has been a dental black hole.  I haven’t flossed, hardly brushed, and stuck with mouthwash.  My cleaning last month wasn’t too bad, but only because Barb, my hygienist, is the best.  I made an appointment for the crown after stalling for five months.

Thursday was the day and I have been something  of a mess for a week.  Worse, I was scheduled to have it done two weeks ago and came down with a bad cold and had to reschedule.  That prolonged my agony.  In defense of the dental office, everyone there is just great.  They are nice, competent, and do their best to make every visit as painless as possible.  I have been a patient there for over twenty years.

Steve Law is the dentist.  A Minnesota boy, he went to St. Olaf College in the same town as Carleton College, that Susan, my stepdaughter,attended.  He is a nice guy and a musician as well.  Today he had trouble getting the old crown off.   He drilled, pried, pulled, drilled, pried, and drilled some more.  After he got all the gear out of my mouth I asked him why he didn’t use Channel Lock pliers instead.  He said something about making it more comfortable.  I do not equate the dentist’s office with comfort, despite their apologetics.

The assistant was also good, and funny as well.  I just do not remember her name.  I should remember, she has worked there as long as my tenure as a patient.  I have a temporary crown she installed which will fall out before the next appointment.

I have lived with dental post-traumatic stress disorder for almost sixty years.  Carol is a therapist and has offered to help, but I just cannot face dealing with the anxiety of reliving dental agony.  At least the suffering is a good contrast with the good times I usually have.  How can we know the good without experiencing the bad?  Why does it have

Four Wheel Drive Equipment

Willys Jeep Wagon

Willys Jeep Wagon

I have been involved in four wheeling since childhood.  Stuck up to the axles and high-centered in Utah, Colorado, South Dakota, and Wyoming.  I like to get out where the country is wild and there aren’t too many people around.  My favorite places are mountain passes in Colorado and the vast red rock country in Utah.  I am not a hard core rock-crawler with a vehicle jacked up in the air with near tractor tires whining and rumbling down the street.

I have had International Scouts, Nissans, Dodges, and my current Toyota Tacoma.  There is a long succession of Jeeps I have ridden in and driven.  I have also been stranded in them.  So, no Jeep for me, I just don’t trust them.  There are lots of choices in four wheelers, but not as many choices for cheap four wheelers.  I’m cheap.

1953 Chevy 2wd

1953 Chevy 2wd

I buy base model vehicles.  I even bought one without air conditioning.  4x4s aren’t particularly cheap, but it is not necessary to spend $50,000 for a nice rig.  My Dodge pickup had a small engine.  Oh, wait, it wasn’t even four wheel drive, although I treated it like it was.  I guess my willingness to use a two wheeler goes back to my youth, when we had a 1953 Chevrolet pickup.  That was in the days when the only 4x4s were old military Jeeps and the venerable Dodge Power Wagon.  Both were capable, but slow and fairly unreliable (35 mph in the Jeep, about 50 in a Power Wagon).  Dad and I went hunting and fishing in that old Chevy.  Dad was an amazing driver in the bad stuff.  He used to maintain the telephone line from Fruita to Cisco, Utah across that adobe desert in a two wheel drive pickup.  Up in the Bookcliff area, there used to be a pile of rocks at the bottom of a bad hill.  If it was muddy or snowy the driver would stop, load the rocks in the back of the pickup, go about his business, and unload the rocks at the bottom of the hill on the way out.

Two times we went places in that old Chevy where no sane person would go without four wheel drive.  Once, we were deer hunting up in the Douglas Pass country after a storm.  The road was muddy with that slick stuff Western Colorado is famous for.  We drove down into a saddle that was steep at either end.  We couldn’t get up the hill.  A newer pickup came by that had a limited slip differential, new at the time, and went right up the hill.  We had to put the tire chains on.

Battlement Lakes Road

Battlement Lakes Road

The other adventure was going fishing at the  Battlement Lakes road on Grand Mesa.  That road wasn’t steep, but was full of big rocks and mud holes.  It was narrow, with little room to maneuver around obstacles.  Dad put that old pickup in second gear, not even the granny gear, and mostly idled along thar road with that old Chevy six lugging along.  The rocks in back rolled around and smashed my good spinning rod.  We met some guys in there in a Jeep.  They could not believe we got in there with a two wheel drive pickup.  I don’t think the fishing was very good that day, but no matter.

Scout I

Scout I

After he retired, Dad got into four wheeling.  His first one was an old Jeep station wagon with a 283 Chevy V8.  That thing was good in the bad stuff, but leaked oil and had some ignition problems.  The next one was an International Scout I.  Pretty primitive, but capable with one exception.   There was a place on Elephant Hill in Canyonlands named Scout Slot.  It was narrow, in solid rock with a ledge that was in just the right place to break the transfer case of a Scout.

After that was an older model Jeep Cherokee.  It was pretty good, and it went around the White Rim Trail with some friends.  Next was a Scout II.  It was good, but one night coming off Elephant Hill it quit.  Dad and I walked to the Canyonlands Resort and got the owner to tow us with his Ford pickup.  We bounced a short distance and the Scout started.  The carburetor float must have been stuck and bounced loose.  I sold the Scout for the Dodge pickup.

2009 Tacoma

2009 Tacoma

I did two wheel drive for a while then bought a Nissan Frontier.  It was capable, lasted quite a while, then I crashed it on ice in Glenwood Canyon.  Now it is the Toyota.  It is good, but I gave it a dent on Pearl Pass.  Now I have a Detroit Trutrac limited slip differential which should help.  Summer is coming, and I’m ready to get out there.

 

 

 

Our Little Planet

Mt. St. Helens showing a Lahar, a mud and ash flow that ran 50 miles downstream during the eruption.

Mt. St. Helens showing a Lahar, a mud and ash flow that ran 50 miles downstream during the eruption.

Stephen Hawking says we need to have to develop means to get off the planet when the Big One, whatever it is, is about to strike.  That is not terribly realistic, relocating several billion people to a place light-years away.  In other words, life on earth is toast.  Someday.In the meantime, life goes on.  It is spooky how we are fouling the planet.  We humans may create the need to get off this little ball without the means to do so.  In other words, life on earth is toast.  Sometime, maybe sooner.So, let’s deal with what we have while we can.  There are things we can do, but the means to act are part of a political process.  As long as politics is motivated by greed at the level it is currently, we are likely toast.  Maybe sooner.

The cliff that collapsed into a massive mudslide is seen covered with felled trees in Oso, Washington March 31, 2014. Recovery teams struggling through thick mud up to their armpits and heavy downpours at the site of the devastating landslide in Washington state are facing yet another challenge - an unseen and potentially dangerous stew of toxic contaminants. REUTERS/Rick Wilking (UNITED STATES - Tags: DISASTER ENVIRONMENT) - RTR3JE4A

The cliff that collapsed into a massive mudslide is seen covered with felled trees in Oso, Washington March 31, 2014. Recovery teams struggling through thick mud up to their armpits and heavy downpours at the site of the devastating landslide in Washington state are facing yet another challenge – an unseen and potentially dangerous stew of toxic contaminants. REUTERS/Rick Wilking (UNITED STATES – Tags: DISASTER ENVIRONMENT) – RTR3JE4A

As individuals, we must do what we can, and get along with our lives.  We can help, and maybe stave off the inevitable to some degree.  We can respond to natural events.  Floods, earthquakes, tornados, landslides, hurricanes, those things we can react to and help.  We must do more than sit in the Lazy-Boy looking at the screen eating Doritos.  We can give money away, stir things up in meetings, vote, and give some time.

Well, we can do things until Yellowstone blows.  It is surprising how resilient humans are.  Ice ages, cataclysms, droughts, they may kill some and move others around, but the species has struggled on through it all.  We haven’t been around very long, however, and haven’t had to deal with any Really Big Ones in the blink of time we have been around.

The Yellowstone Caldera

The Yellowstone Caldera

The Park Service says the Yellowstone super-volcano is pretty safe, that most eruptions are limited lava flows.  But, someday, it will be like the last big one that created a caldera almost as large as the park.  The Snake River Plain in Idaho with all those lava flows is the track of the Yellowstone hot spot as the North American Plate traveled west.  The plate moves at about the rate your fingernails grow.  As it moves, it erupts.  It just takes a while.

Hurricanes, tornadoes, floods, drought, all interest me, but I am most interested in geologic cataclysm.  One of my favorite potential geologic disasters is climate-related.  Years ago I read an article proposing that sea level rise could lead to the Gulf Stream moving over the continental shelf and invading the Arctic Ocean.  Europe would cool off with the loss of that warm water and the Arctic Ocean would thaw.  With all that open water in the north, evaporation would increase, snowfall would increase in the Arctic, precipitating a new ice age.

I haven’t seen much on that hypothesis lately.  Researchers seem to be concentrating on the rapid melting going on without Gulf Stream migrations, although the Gulf Stream does seem to be weakening.  There are just so many variables to consider.

Ash From a Yellowstone Eruption

Ash From a Yellowstone Eruption

With respect to the Yellowstone super volcano exploding and killing most life in North America, there is only one variable: when.  A couple of years ago I was on a ramble in Wyoming.  Fort Laramie was my destination, but on the way I looked for the Oregon-California trail wagon ruts along the Platte outside Guernsey.  The ruts are dramatic, going up from the river bottom to some higher ground.  They are axle-deep in some tan colored rock that looks like sandstone at first glance.  It is volcanic tuff from the last time Yellowstone blew.  The layer is four or five feet deep about 200 miles from Yellowstone.  That is a lot of stuff blown into the atmosphere.  All that material along with the CO2 and SO2 would kill most everything for many hundreds of miles.

The most recent volcanic eruption in Colorado was about 4500 years ago at Dotsero.  The entire San Juan mountain range is volcanic.  Huerfano Butte near Walsenberg is a volcanic neck.  There are eroded lava flows on Trail Ridge Road in Rocky Mountain National Park.  There are lots of hot springs in Colorado.  Where is all that heat coming from?  Will the Glenwood Hot Springs Pool erupt?  Will Steamboat Springs’ boiler explode?

Landslides.  There is even one not far from Fruita on I-70.  Debeque canyon on the Colorado River is famous landslide country.  That landslide that killed three men outside Collbran last year is the same geologically.  Green Mountain in Lakewood has a landslide that destroyed several houses.  The Vail/Eagle River valley is good landslide country.  All it takes is a lot of moisture in spring. The canyons incising the front range are landslide prone.  All that rock will eventually find its way to Louisiana as mud.

The upside of all that landslide country is that it gives geologists and earthmoving contractors work.

There is a radioactive isotope of radon gas that is common in some of our Colorado rocks that houses are built on.  Basements become carcinogenic.  There is an anthropomorphic cause of radioactive basements as well.  In Grand Junction, uranium mill tailings were used as backfill around basements is some subdivisions.  More work for geologists, and a Superfund site.

Debris is strewn over an area affected by an earthquake and tsunami in Miyako, Iwate Prefecture, March 14, 2011. REUTERS/Aly Song (JAPAN - Tags: DISASTER ENVIRONMENT)

Debris is strewn over an area affected by an earthquake and tsunami in Miyako, Iwate Prefecture, March 14, 2011. REUTERS/Aly Song (JAPAN – Tags: DISASTER ENVIRONMENT)

Earthquakes.  Again two causes, natural and human-caused.  All those earthquakes in Texas and Oklahoma caused by injecting fracking water back underground have a Colorado history.  Rocky Mountain Arsenal outside Denver was used to manufacture poison gas for military use and later poison gas for agriculture.  They pumped a lot of the toxic wastewater down wells and set off earthquakes.  They stopped that.  The oil companies are not stopping.  Yet.

Colorado is earthquake country.  Making mountains, shoving rock around to make room for more rock shakes things up.  The Flatirons outside Boulder used to be flat.  North and South Table mountains are capped with basalt from lava flows.  These processes are still going on in lots of places.

The Rio Grande Rift is a Rift Valley stretching from Southern New Mexico to north of Leadville.  The earth is pulling apart.  Look at the San Luis valley, that is a lot of pulling.  It is still going on, but slowly in human terms.  There will be earthquakes.  The biggest quake-causing fault near Denver is the Golden Fault, formed when the Rockies were uplifted.  That uplift has happened about three times.  The mountains come up, get eroded down, come up again, get eroded again.  Will it happen again?  There seems to be some weakness in the crust around here.

What the Meteor Looked Like Impacting off Yucutan

What the Meteor Looked Like Impacting off Yucutan

There are asteroids out there that have orbits that coincide with the earth’s orbit.  It has happened before, could again.  I saw Charlie Rose interviewing Neil DeGrasse Tyson, and he mentioned the possibility.  We have the technology to deal with the the threat, but it will take a lot of money and cooperation.  Will it happen before we need it?  Will it be too late when the danger is imminent?  Ask a Republican.  I hope you sleep well tonight.

 

 

 

In the Path of Destruction

 

Mt. St. Helens Before Eruption

Mt. St. Helens Before Eruption

I started a post last week about volcanos, then I got sick, so here it is now.  I was inspired to write this because I follow the United States Geological Survey (USGS)and  the American Geological Society on Facebook.  The 18th of May was the 25th anniversary of the Mount St. Helens eruption.  Both organizations ran daily posts about the most violent volcanic eruption in the continental United States in recorded history.

The USGS quoted extensively from In the Path of Destruction, a book about the events around the eruption.  That eruption in1980 was the most violent volcanic eruption the United States has experienced in recorded history.

Start of Eruption.  Landslide

Start of Eruption. Landslide

Close to some big cities but relatively isolated, only about 56 people were killed.    The low death toll was also a result of the Forest Service, the local county sheriffs, and Weyerhauser Timber restricting access to the area around the mountain, a popular recreational area.

In the Path of Destruction has two sections, narratives of events before and during the eruption, and many eyewitness reports collected by author Richard Waitt, a USGS geologist present at Mt. St. Helens starting in March 1980, when the volcano started coming alive and throughout the eruption and aftermath.  Three weeks after the eruption he was in a bar talking to a man who had lived through the eruption and realized the stories of witnesses could add to scientific knowledge of the event.

This book is one you lose sleep over.  Do you remember May 18, 1980?  Those people do, their memories are as vivid now as my memory of the day Kennedy was shot.  Waitt interviewed a wide range of people from USGS geologists, pilots in the air nearby when it blew, campers, loggers, and local residents who survived.    Their stories are why the book kept me awake.  The author’s narratives are well researched and written.  He puts the science, events, and the human story into a book that will hold even those who are not geology geeks.

The Big Boom

The Big Boom

In fact as a geology geek, I found myself wanting more science.  That is probably good for most readers.  A big part of the story is the unusual behavior of the volcano before it blew.  There were hundreds of earthquakes in the two months before the big eruption, accompanied by venting, minor ash falls, and the formation of a small crater.  The strangest phenomenon was the formation of a huge bulge on the north side of the mountain.

The bulge grew about five feet every day, accompanies by swarms of small earthquakes  some of the USGS people thought were from magma intruding into the bulge.  The bulge grew, with vertical cracks forming on its face.  Some thought a major eruption was imminent, others thought it would be a relatively minor event.  Politics kept moving the roadblocks back and forth, with logging being allowed outside the immediate danger zone.  It’s tough enforcing a roadblock with logging trucks coming out of the closed area.

In 1980, eruptions could not be forecast.  In 2015, earthquakes can’t be forecast.  People wanted in the closed area to go to their cabins, to hike, camp, and fish.  We think of volcanic eruptions going up from a crater at the summit.  On May 18th, a magnitude five earthquake caused the bulge to slide.  That caused the mountain above the bulge to slide.

View of Mt. St. Helens from Mt. Margaret, July 27 1980 Devastation

View of Mt. St. Helens from Mt. Margaret, July 27 1980
Devastation

The accounts of the survivors and witnesses of the eruption are what make the book so gripping.  For me events thirty five years ago came alive.  I won’t go into any of the stories.  Read for yourself.  The photographs and maps provide a useful context and show the eruption as it happened.  I continue to be astounded that one plate smashing into another at the rate your fingernails grow can produce events like volcanic eruptions and earthquakes like the one in Nepal.  There is lots of really hot stuff down there in our Earth, and if the crust gets weakened, here it comes.

 

A few weeks ago I was headed east from Gunnison up the Tomichi Creek valley.  The rocks looked sort of like sandstone, so common here in Colorado, but they just didn’t look right.  It dawned on me.  Volcanic tuff, just like the ash that blew out of Mt. St. Helens.  It happened here and in geologic terms, not that long ago.  Maybe 65 million years ago, give or take.

 

 

My Music

Buddy Holly

Buddy Holly

I was growing up when Rock and Roll was born.  Prior to rock and roll, popular music pretty much defined banality.  Then, the blues and the beat.  Early rock and Roll was not always great either.  There was a lot of bad stuff out there.  The radio stations had to fill their space, and Buddy Holly, Elvis, and the Everly Brothers would not stretch far enough.  The music was born out of the blues, and there were black musicians who kept the tradition alive with some innovative infusions.  A lot of the trash came from Phil Spector, with his wall of sound.

Like most things In our culture, the real stuff got co-opted by white men in suits.  The real stuff stayed alive, but you didn’t hear it on top 40 radio very often.  There were some musicians far away who did listen to the real stuff, and they infused it with their own culture.  The British Invasion began, and music changed again.  A tremendous burst of creativity came forth, almost world wide.  Today, it’s called classic rock.  The suits, however, got to sell their schlock alongside the good stuff.

There was a parallel trend during all this change.  The folkies were alive and well, with the real stuff, Judy Collins (From Denver), Joan Baez, and others. We also got the Kingston Trio-like commercial music.  The king of the folkies was a Jewish boy from Hibbing, Minnesota.  Not blessed with a great singing voice, he developed a huge following because his lyrics managed to define the mood of a restless generation.

Bob Dylan

Bob Dylan

Then, he went electric.  Bob Dylan and his legion of followers and contemporaries created music that inspired and motivated many of my generation.  There also was this war lots of people did not like.  The music led and we followed it into the streets.  It wasn’t just the music that created the cultural shift of the 60’s; the civil rights movement probably started it all.

There were some parallel trends in music during all this.  People still listened to big band standards, the Burt Bacharach’s were out there, commercial bubblegum polluted the airwaves, and Jazz stayed alive through it all.  The 50s and 60s were probably the golden age of jazz, taking its roots in the blues to entirely new places.  I left rock and roll for a while around 1959-1961 for jazz.  I guess I needed the blues.  Today’s jazz seems like Muzak with chords.

Classical music.  There was not much of a classical music scene when I was a kid in Fruita.  My introduction came from the Brumbaughs.  They had a piano, and used it.  Tedd, the older son, was my age, and two blocks away.  The Brumbaughs took me to a violin concert at Mesa College in Grand Junction.  Tossy Spivakoski was the violinist. (How can I remember his name?  It must have been around 1956.).  He was a well-known concert violinist, but I think he thought he was casting pearls before swine in the middle of nowhere. .  He hated any coughing or other noise while he was playing, and scowled at the culprits.  I liked the concert.

J. S. Bach

J. S. Bach

After my mother died, I listened to a lot of classical blues.  Tchaikovsky’s Sixth Symphony is the probably the best musical lament of all time.  Classical, especially Baroque, is now my favorite genre.  Baroque seems to appeal to people with ADD. I can’t connect with the new stuff, pop is as insipid as always, and country is pop with a steel guitar.  The scene is so fragmented I can’t track it.

I am sure there is good music, I just don’t know where.  One place of genuine creativity that channels 60s protest music is Hip-Hop.  I don’t connect with the sound too much, I guess I am too old and white, but if you want to know what is going on in Baltimore, listen to hip-hop.

Yo Yo Ma

Yo Yo Ma

I can’t listen to classic rock, I have heard every song several hundred times.  Pop and country suck, so it is classical for me.  Recently Carol and I went to a Yo-Yo Ma concert at DU.  He is the most famous cellist in the world, and most of his program was Bach.  I was transported.  I have some old R&R in my truck, Bonnie Raitt, Dylan, the Cranberries, but it is mostly classical, mostly Baroque.  I am content with listening to music that has been around for centuries.  I am still a bit of a folkie, so that music is OK as long as there is no John Denver.

Rock and Roll in the Sticks

1958 Chevy

1958 Chevy

Western Colorado in the late 1950s and 1960s was a cultural backwater of the first magnitude.  I-70 did not exist, making travel to Denver at least two hours longer than now.  In Grand Junction, there was one television station and two radio stations.  The Junction had the Daily Sentinel newspaper, and Fruita had the Fruita Times, a weekly with stories about the bridge club.

Things were on the move in the land.  Rock and Roll had appeared, but not in our neck of the desert.  The only contact we had was the Ed Sullivan Show, which introduced Elvis to the world.   The local radio stations weren’t interested.  They were making money playing Patti Page, the Andrews Sisters, and Doris Day.  The raciest they got was letting Johnny Ray cry.

At first, we found Lucky Lager Dance Time on KNBC in San Francisco, but you needed a good radio, and there better not be any lightning between the Junction and California.  Then, salvation!  KOMA!  As soon as the sun was down, KOMA boomed in from Oklahoma City.  Rock and Roll ruled the sticks.  And the sticks were extensive.  KOMA dominated Oklahoma, New Mexico, Rural Colorado, Kansas, Nebraska, South Dakota, Wyoming, and neighboring boondocks.

That radio station was our lifeline to the rock and roll youth culture developing in the country.  This was not the Beatles and the Stones.  It was Buddy Holly, Elvis, the Everly Brothers, all those Phil Spector bands, and some R&B, like Chuck Berry and Little Richard.   KOMA was top 40, no obscure bands, just the big stuff.  Yes, there was country and western, and Grand Junction even got a station later, but country was mostly confined to the pool halls and beer joints around 1960.

There was the KOMA band circuit.  There were several rock and roll bands that traveled the region, playing in small town Grange Halls, Legion Halls; anywhere the band could rent a hall.  Sterling, Roswell, Scott’s Bluff, Colby, Torrington, Hot Springs, Alliance, Garden City, Trinidad, all those little towns starved for anything from the outside world.  The only band on the circuit I remember was Spider and the Crabs.  They advertised their gigs on KOMA and kids came to the dances from all over.  KOMA made money from the ads, and bad rock and roll ruled the boondocks.

Several of us would buy a case of Coors bottles, go to Grand Junction, listen to KOMA, cruise all evening drinking beer, and throw the empty bottles at highway signs on the way back to Fruita.

Was that youth misspent?  No, not at all.  I am writing about it now, aren’t I?  Rock and Roll survived, and all was well until the mid-1960s. Here’s to KOMA in Oklahoma!  The station is still in business, still playing rock and roll.

Decay

Old Mine Building

Old Mine Building

My friend and I have coffee fairly often.  We have many common interests, from DU Lacrosse to politics,spirituality, motorcycles, and bicycles to name a few.  He plays pickleball, I don’t.  I write, he doesn’t.  We have fun.

We do find ourselves discussing our health care issues.  He is coming off his second knee replacement.  I have only had one.  He needs a prostate ream job, I had one.  He has had bypass surgery, I have high blood pressure.  Even though he is fairly nuts, I don’t think he has ADD.  Poor guy.

He is a year younger than I am, but I look better.  We are both getting a bit on in years.  Both retired, we have active, engaged lives.  It’s good to share this time of life with another old dude.  That health care thing does loom.  Things do not work as well as they used to.  The night before last I sustained a sleeping injury.  I rolled over and Ow, Ow.  My bad back did not like that particular motion.

Now what is that about? A stupid sleeping injury!  Hiking, motorcycling, bicycling, home maintenance projects, at work, yes, but sleeping?  Carol had a reading injury (wrist) but at least she was awake doing something.  This is getting serious.  Should I just stay in bed, not get up?  Well, no that’s where I hurt myself.  If I walk I might fall.  If I drive, I might get a ticket.  If I stay in my chair, I’ll get fat.  There is no way out.

How did I get myself in this fix?  I have always been something of a risk taker.  I climbed fourteeners.  I did both dirt and canyons on my motorcycle.  I scrambled around in the slickrock desert alone.  I jeeped over 13000 feet high passes alone.  I bicycled in ten degree temperature weather on the ice to get to work.  Now I hurt myself sleeping.

I am going to leave this coffee shop, drive up to Gilpin county, and go hiking.

Later.  I went to Gilpin County, hiked and jeeped.  I whacked my head on a low door frame in an old mine building, so now I have a scalp laceration.  Some days.

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