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Colorado Less Traveled, by Jim Steinberg and Susan J. Tweit

Review by Martha Quillen

Colorado – May 2006 – Colorado Central Magazine

Colorado Less Traveled – Journeys Off the Beaten Path
Photographs by Jim Steinberg
Text by Susan J. Tweit
Published in 2005 by Portfolio Press
ISBN 188349883X

AS COFFEE TABLE BOOKS GO, this one is exactly the right size, weight, and volume. It’s not so large that it’s cumbersome, nor so heavy it’s unwieldy. It’s sturdy and beautifully designed. Likewise, the pictures are lovely, the cutlines well done, and the text is admirably clear, and brief, which is a major but frequently ignored asset in a book designed primarily for viewing. (Books of this size just aren’t conveniently positioned on the arm of your chair or next to your pillow for extended reading.)

The text is by Susan Tweit of Salida, a regular columnist for the Mountain Mail and the author of nine books. Tweit is a poetic writer with a flare for controversy, and she’s well-known locally for her pro-Christo, protect-predators, and anti-housecat views. Her columns are well-crafted, opinionated, invariably interesting, and occasionally maddening. Her prose in Colorado Less Traveled, on the other hand, is informative, prettily written, and totally tame, which makes it highly readable but not particularly compelling. There’s not a lot of personality or attitude in this text to keep you reading, but that’s entirely befitting — and even admirable. This book is basically calendar art without the calendars, so it wouldn’t be appropriate to eclipse the photography. But due to the explanatory and supplemental nature of the text, one suspects that a lot of buyers won’t even bother to read the print — and that’s a shame.

But Steinberg’s photos are definitely gorgeous enough to stand alone. Some, however, seem preposterously vivid — with texture, line, and shades that are beyond belief. Steinberg’s greens tend to be greener than life, his reds redder; his skies bluer; his sunsets gaudier, and his shadows deeper. Generally, I prefer more subtle photography. But there is purpose behind the flamboyance. Although Steinberg’s photos don’t always show Colorado the way it actually looks, they portray our state’s scenery the way you frequently envision it. For instance, there’s a really breathtaking picture of some boulders in the Phantom Canyon area near Fort Collins that looks grainy, muted, old-fashioned, and idyllic — much like the scenic shots in 1940s and ’50s tourist brochures.

Some of Steinberg’s photographs display the same kind of dreamlike beauty you see in Hudson River School paintings. And his photos of Colorado canyons frequently resemble the Monument Valley panoramas featured in John Wayne movies. In Steinberg’s photographs, the reds and yellows and textures are not particularly true to life, but they evoke stirring Cinemascopic memories of yesteryear.

Likewise, Steinberg’s Colorado often displays the same lush coloration seen in Hobbit villages in recent Tolkien extravaganzas. In fact, when you peruse this book, you may forget that Colorado meadows are generally less florid than Kentucky pastures — because there is no grass greener than the variety captured in Steinberg’s shots.

In Colorado Less Traveled, Steinberg’s vision is frequently more true to fantasy than reality. But no matter how much you appreciate the real Colorado, some of his photos are sure to impress you — because he has a knack for presenting mood-laden dreamscapes: crimson sunsets; emerald tundra; golden autumns; winsome wildflowers; and lonely prairies.

So what’s not to like?

Well, the title — Colorado Less Traveled: Journeys Off the Beaten Path — bothered me a little, because it seemed to suggest the sort of questionable marketing that inspires cheesy articles about “Top-Secret Vacation Destinations.”

Locals frequently complain about such crass promotions; yet the line between what’s contentious and what’s not isn’t always clear. In fact, on many occasions I’ve fretted because I felt that Colorado Central had stepped over that line, yet readers have never seconded my qualms with letters or comments.

So clearly, this is a debatable issue. But even so, I couldn’t help but wonder if highlighting scenes from “Off the Beaten Path” mightn’t encourage people to rush out to beat those places down.

The first section of this book, however, isn’t problematical. In fact, the prairies, grasslands, lonely roads, and remote parks it features could probably use a little more tourism — if only to assure that our National Grasslands don’t attract attention when it comes time for the next federal budget cuts.

Likewise, Dinosaur National Monument, Great Sand Dunes National Park, and Mesa Verde are all developed sites administered to accommodate tourists without causing undo environmental damage.

The section on Colorado’s high peaks was a bit more troubling, though. Pictured among them are the Maroon Bells, Colorado’s most photographed peaks. The text says, “Wilderness now attracts such crowds of visitors in summer that access to the most popular trailheads is by shuttle bus only, and solitude is scarce — but not completely unavailable.

“Across the divide from Aspen and the crowded Crystal River Valley, trails climbing into the back side of the wilderness from above Crested Butte are quiet, even during the popular Wildflower Festival in July, when flower lovers cruise back-country roads, hummingbirds arrive to feed, and researchers settle into a nearby biological field station. Few people trek to the alpine basins high above these visitors.”

So is this text proposing that more people tromp across our fragile tundra?

It’s hard to say. But this book doesn’t sink to the lows of SUV ads that promote four-wheeling over snowy tundra and pristine meadow. Nor is it in the same league as adventure magazines which aggrandize conquering the last undefiled reaches of wilderness.

In fact, Colorado Less Traveled features scenery that can be viewed from developed roads and trails — and that, I think, is a very good thing. The book is gorgeous, solidly constructed, and beautifully composed, and would make a great gift (especially for older relatives who would never consider ascending above 12,000 feet to muck around in alpine meadows).