By George Sibley
I sometimes sort of joke, in these pages and elsewhere, about the 21st century, wondering in 2016 if we will ever get to the 21st century, and what it will be like if we do.
I do argue – seriously, not jokingly – that “a new century” will not really begin until we actually start doing a lot of constructive work (not just “regulatory”) to address the challenges we began to bicker about in the late 20th century.
Donald Trump claims he can “make America great again,” but when did it stop being great? The United States is the richest, mightiest nation on earth. It has the highest GDP and most powerful military. Yet the 2016 presidential races are exposing a dark, depressing aspect of American supremacy.
By John Mattingly
or the last 30 years, I’ve written for various ag trade publications on topics ranging from salt to bears, estate planning to bindweed control. After reading Elizabeth Kolbert’s The Sixth Extinction, I started a five part series on extinction: the history of human understanding, the process, what we know of prior mass extinctions, the clues to the current mass extinction, and the consequences.
By Forrest Whitman
Freight Train Wayne and I were talking with a group of Jicarilla Apache folks in their supermarket recently. We were in Dulce, New Mexico and were wondering how we’d get any further on our quest following a ghost railroad. That ghost was the Denver and Rio Grande Western narrow gauge.
In the northern San Luis Valley, southeast of Villa Grove, are two remote and obscure cemeteries: the Cotton Creek and the Mirage. At one time, the area was home to a small settlement of Hispanics who worked at the nearby Orient Mine and also raised sheep. The Cotton Creek Cemetery is where many of them are buried.
By Brian Rill
Petals as an anthology is a testament to travelers, who after returning from a long pilgrimage are stunned by the difference time has caused to familiar surroundings and begin asking aloud, “Hello who’s there?” They implore, “Has anything changed, or are we all still the same?” Indeed much is new with the maturity that comes after a long journey. The addition of steel guitar and cello adds to Elephant Revival’s lineup. This is the fourth studio album, with Bonnie Paine on washboard, cello, musical saw and stomp box; Bridget Law on fiddle; Charlie Rose on pedal steel, banjo, upright bass and guitar; Dango Rose on upright bass and mandolin; and Daniel Rodriguez on lead vocals, guitar and percussion.
By Craig W. Leavett and Thomas J. Noel
University Press of Colorado
290 pages, 173 color, 8×10
ISBN 978-1-60732-419-5 (paper), ISBN 978-60732-420-1 (ebook)
Reviewed by Virginia McConnell Simmons
Readers who are interested in Colorado’s art and history will welcome this cornucopia of paintings and drawings by Herndon Davis. Although he might not have gained renown in the highest circles of art or society, this prolific artist won honor in his lifetime for evoking Colorado’s cultural story and for sharing it with skill, affection and his notable drinking companions.
By Mike Rosso
Some old-time Salidans still refer to it as the Clifton Ranch. It was Clarence Clifton who sold the vast ranch on the eastern end of Salida to Harold Vandaveer in 1957.
Chaffee County records indicate that Clifton had purchased some or all of the ranch from Theodore and May Driggers in 1948, but records before that grow cold. It was in 1947 that the new “interstate” highway, U.S. Hwy. 50, split the ranch in half in an effort to create a direct route from Maryland to California.
By Kim Marquis
Shortly after moving to Salida in 2008, Fred Klein and his wife, Vicki, purchased a lush triangle of land fronting the South Arkansas River in Poncha Springs.
The property became a getaway for the couple, where they remodeled a one-room cabin and relaxed among soaring cottonwoods, listening to the river rush by. After decades living in prickly, drought-ridden Santa Fe – where water is so scarce they’d put a bucket in the shower to water outside plants – their acreage on the “Little Ark” seemed like a romantic dream come true.
First Published in Colorado Central Magazine, May 1998
By Ed Quillen
Samuel Hitt Elbert, whose name adorns Colorado’s highest peak, was born in Ohio on April 3, 1833. He grew up in Iowa and was graduated with honors from Ohio Wesleyan University in 1854. He then studied law and was admitted to that state’s bar in 1856.
By Nancy Walters
In September 2006, my husband Ken and I signed papers to purchase a lot in the Buffalo Hills subdivision of Chaffee County, Colorado. At the time, I was chafing at the local pronunciation of the county name, with a long ?. My family always pronounced the surname of my maternal grandfather, Arthur Chaffee, with a short vowel æ. That’s the phonics rule, right? A vowel before two consonants is pronounced as a soft vowel. I asked Gordon Sloat, our realtor, about this, and he assured me that locals always pronounce “Chaffee” with a long ?. Over time I adapted to local custom, not wanting to be heard as an outsider.
By Virginia McConnell Simmons Equal opportunity to work was unending on family farms and ranches for males and females, young and old. Branding, done before cattle were put out on pastures for the summer, is being handled in this photo by the Becker sisters east of Alamosa in 1894. A Colorado Cattlemen’s Association publication (1967) …
By Mike Rosso
Readers sometimes ask how we come up with our cover art. There’s not one particular method for this. Often we seek out the artwork, scouring the Internet for photographs or other mediums by the many talented artists who live and work in Central Colorado. Sometimes it’s luck: we run across a striking image in a gallery or on a website, or meet an artist who offers their work to us. On rare occasions, folks submit artwork for consideration, but those rarely end up on the cover.
My love for being outdoors began with growing up in rural Michigan, where playing in the woods was the main source of entertainment. That love was further nurtured being a Girl Scout for 10 years. As a Parks and Recreation major at Central Michigan University, I took the opportunity to come out to Colorado for a backpacking class. I instantly fell in love with the Rocky Mountains and decided I was coming back. On graduation day in 1985, I had my pickup truck piled high like the Beverly Hillbillies and left that very day!
By Hal Walter
T.S. Eliot wrote that “April is the cruellest month,” but then he was not referring to a calendar for autism awareness.
Each year I greet the proclamation of Autism Awareness Month as a source of amusement and with a sense of duty. The fact is, every day is about autism awareness around here.
Actually, I have been doing my best to avoid using the term “autism,” though this is nearly impossible when writing about it. Instead, I prefer “neurodiversity.” It is more accurate for one thing, less of a label and more inclusive.
I do not hide my son Harrison or his neurodiversity, as some parents do. I put him, and it, right out in the open because I think it’s important for him to move freely through society, and also for people to know about this issue and have at least some small understanding of it. It may make some uncomfortable. It makes me uncomfortable too, but anything worth doing at all always pushes the comfort zone.
By Tina Mitchell
While birding in Arizona, we had been searching for an hour or so, scanning among the treetops for warblers. Whenever I’d look down to give my neck a break, I’d notice colorful butterflies wafting lazily along. Why were we working so hard to see tiny flitting birds when butterflies – equally colorful, less frenetic – were practically tripping us? Stunning colors, bold patterns, frequent pauses at or below eye level – how hard could identifying those lovelies be?
Yeah. Well. I couldn’t have been more wrong. Forewing, hindwing; upperside, underside; male, female – each different, often dramatically so. Once you try to get a good look, you realize that butterflies are hardly slow. Add the fact that our binoculars, so wonderful for birding, couldn’t focus close enough to provide even the slightest chance to ID a butterfly, and you have a recipe for mega-frustration.
So why did my husband and I volunteer as butterfly monitors on a three-mile trail through a variety of habitats last summer? I really can’t tell you.
By Chris Rourke
With a sound as sweet as their name, “Free the Honey” blends three-part harmonies and traditional stringed instruments, while telling listeners about the simple goodness of life.
Yet this time the Gunnison Valley-based acoustic band has a new song to sing, as it returns to its roots as an all-female trio.
Its members – Jenny Hill, Lizzy Plotkin and Katherine Taylor – first formed the band three years ago. Each a talented musician in their own right, they learned of one another through the grapevine of a small community. Once joined, the magic began to happen, combining the best that the south has to offer with the support of a western community. Despite the demands of travel and their insistence upon professional excellence, the group has no intention of slowing down.
“I read a quote today … that compared music to fuel,” said Plotkin. “It’s the fuel of our lives right now, and it would be a shame to ever stop. It fuels us, it keeps us going and it keeps us authentic.”
By Vince Matthews
One hundred and twenty-five years ago, Leadville was Colorado’s second most populous city and was being touted to become the State’s Capital. Indeed, the ridge on the north end of town is called Capitol Hill, and one of the old scenery flies in the Tabor Opera House depicts Colorado’s future Capitol as residing there. Great wealth was being accumulated by folks such as Guggenheim, Tabor, Routt, Chaffee and others. And they had a light rail bringing folks to and from the terminal to downtown. Denver finally caught up this April with the opening of its light rail from DIA to downtown!
