The Fort Collins Syndrome...

“You can observe a lot by watching.”  Yogi Berra.

When I moved to Fort Collins, CO in 1978, the population was around 59,000. Old Town was a mess of shuttered storefronts and a spattering of dicey dive bars. One could buy a nearby house for far less than a pittance. The city was considered by many Coloradoan’s to be a “cow town.” In fact the University had a bull farm within the city limits, so it wasn’t too far from the truth. At least there were no cattle drives down College Avenue.

Fast Forward to the present. Now the population stands at 162,000 and gaining. Old Town is now the cool place to see and be seen. Gone are the shuttered storefronts. Gourmet restaurants, groovy bars and boutique stores for people and pets complete the scene.  My 1902, 1000 square foot home in Old Town would now fetch about half a million. I bought it for $72,000 in 1992. Fort Collins is making the “Best of...” lists cities drool to be on. 

I’ve now been on an extended road trip in the National Parks, Monuments, Preserves and State Parks of America’s Southwest. I’m seeing a naturalized version of the Fort Collins Syndrome in wild places. 

Joshua Tree National Park (which lacks the majesty of a Yosemite or Zion)  is  packed to the point where anarchy reins. I had squatters set up tents on my campsite without asking! Drunken revelers party on till 1:00 am. All these people for a park where the highlights are multiple piles of big rocks and funky shaped “trees.” 

When I visited Joshua Tree starting in the late 90’s the place was devoid of people.

After Joshua Tree, I headed north and east to the Mohave National Preserve. Five years ago, I discovered the “Hole in the Wall” campground. A sanctuary set in a spartan desert landscape where Happy Campers made an effort to distance themselves from each other. I was more than OK with that. Peace and quiet prevailed. 

This year the Hole in the Rock campground filled to capacity each night. Thankfully the clientele were still peaceful. 

Last year, I camped and hiked in Snow Canyon State Park in Utah. It was a nice enough experience to warrant another visit. A few days ago, I phoned about getting a campsite. The Ranger laughed, “We are booked solid for the next few weeks!” 

So...I found an RV Park in St. George, UT. The campground resembled a Walmart parking lot minus the store. In other words, it sucked. After a cruddy night of sleep, I drove up to Snow Canyon to hike.

The trails I had to my lonesome last season were NYC subway packed. I had to use my tried and true method of passing people. “Excuse me! Coming through! Hot soup! Hot soup!”  It works. 

“Nobody goes there anymore. It’s too crowded.” Yogi Berra

So Jeffy! What’s your point? 

Our wild regions are being visited in record numbers. Places that once weren’t considered worthy of a look-see are now scoring visitors. In other words, the Wild Land equivalent of a “Cow Town”(the  Fort Collins Syndrome) are now on people’s must-see lists.

It’s  only going to get worse. In 2016, 430,000 brand new RV’s were sold in the US. Those buyers want to take them to pretty places other than a Walmart parking lot. This is the pressure of population growth. 

Now my point: The Diminisher in Chief has eviscerated two of Utah’s National Monuments. Both Bear Ears (Obama) and Grand Staircase/Escalante (Clinton) have had their acreages vastly reduced. (Of course, the Courts will decide the final outcome). 

America the Beautiful is coming under attack for the short sighted monetary gains of a few. Possible mines, logging camps and oil rigs would replace scenic and archaeological wonders. The resource extractors would scar the land. Waterways might get contaminated. (Google Uravan and Summittville, CO). Worse still, that will be so many acres of lost wandering available for future generations. The very idea is shameful. 

Beauty may be skin deep, but it lasts a whole lot longer than a mining operation. Joni Mitchell summed it up this way. “You don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone.” 

My advice? Let’s Drain the Cesspool in 2018 and 2020 to overturn these ADD land management schemes. Your grandkids would approve.

From stormy (not Daniels) Zion National Park,

Jeff

PS. For further readers,  please check out: (there’s pretty pictures too.)

http://jeffsambur.blogspot.com/2017/04/utah-national-monument-status-isnt.html

http://jeffsambur.blogspot.ch/2017/06/in-june-1864-abraham-lincoln-signed-act.html

“Homeless by Choice”

is how I describe my current address. On April 1st, I’ll be beginning my sixth year of this lifestyle that most people try to avoid. Being homeless. 

If you’ve been following along  you might have noticed lately I’ve hit a washboarded and potholed stretch of road. I’m having so few Eureka! moments to offset subjecting myself to 66 square feet of living space, the dubious at times toilet and shower facilities, the endless dinners of less than gourmet cuisine and the constant challenge of keeping my IPAs cold. Things I never thought much about, now feel strange and strained. 

One might guess correctly, I’m questioning what this is all about. You can say that lately I’m going through the motions of being in motion. 

Maybe it’s the incessant winds bearing  a “Damn the Torpedoes” attitude.

Maybe it’s a stubborn cold that refuses to unfurl the White Flag after two-plus weeks.

Maybe it’s because I feel like I’m floundering along instead of Wandering with a laser-like precision.

Maybe ( I can write this because I’m proud to say this is the Bigliest honest blog in the World ) it’s starting to get lonely out here. 

Maybe it’s a combination of all four.

However! With all that said, I’m not thinking of placing a “For Sale! Make Me An Offer,” sign on Barley the Van. I haven’t looked at Real Estate guides either. 

I’m more than half way through this road trip. Soon, I’ll make the big turn north and east towards Colorado. I’ll stop along the way: Zion, Grand Staircase/Escalante, Bear Ears ( what’s left of them after they’ve been drawn and quartered by an environmentally insensitive Administration ), Canyonlands and maybe a few others. 

My long range plans are to spend a few months in Colorado. By August I’ll head toward the Northwest and work my way down towards Fall. I’ll spend Thanksgiving in Colorado. Scottsdale after that. January 2nd, 2019, I’ll climb aboard a big plane kangaroo bound for Australia. 

All these plans are subject to change. Maybe I’ll meet a woman who not only lusts for me, but shares my Wanderlust. Stranger things have been known to happen like a Racist Commander in Tweet. 

 Which reminds me, I’m still running for President in 2020. 

http://jeffsambur.blogspot.com/2016/11/my-2020-presidential-campaign-begins.html?m=1

In the meantime I’m hoping to get my being in Motion Mojo back. I’ll continue to look for a sign. I’ll keep my eyes open for that Pink Barleian Van. 

From Joshua Tree National Park where the campground resembles a noisy Cancun Spring Break crowd minus the wet T-shirt contests and MTV. 

 Happy Passover!

Happy Easter!

Cheers!

Jeff

Final Photo: this is my Joshua impersonation for asking for Divine Intervention.

“Goodbye Death Valley!”

supposedly was the parting words of a of prospective prospector who got lost with other “49ers” in the winter of 1849/1850. One of their members died in that Valley. They thought they would all perish there. 

The name stuck. 

A few months ago, I decided to try something new and completely different. I vowed to spend a month in the Death Valley National Park region. I based this decision oh past visits there. The temperatures usually follow the Goldilocks Principle. They are not too hot, not too cold, but just right. (Normally it feels like being on the receiving end of a touchless massage). 

This year that wasn’t the case. Of course, I mentioned this in a blog.

http://jeffsambur.blogspot.com/2018/03/being-cold-weenie.html?m=1

However despite Mother Nature turning a cold shoulder to this WW J, the month went by. It wasn’t the best of times nor the worst of times. It just was. I’ve come to realize no matter how poor a day I’m having eventually the clock strikes Happy Hour. 

Death Valley National Park is still my good Buddy. It’s the largest National Park in the lower 48. (A whopping 3.37 million acres. That’s a lot of Rhode Island’s). It’s mostly Wilderness. Elevations range from below sea level to above tree line. It’s the home of the pupfish and other hardcore survivalist. It’s beautiful in a raw, cerebral and unforgiving way. It’s a place where you can easily escape the other 39.5 million people who call California home. All it takes is a pair of trail runners, a willingness to explore and enough food and water to get you through the day. 

Hint: the further you venture the less people you see.

Its one of my favorite places on Earth. 

One day, I’ll return to say “Hello! Death Valley” once again. 

Chillin’ with a cold germ in Borrego Springs, CA. 

Still haven’t found my stride on this current road trip. I’m hoping for a change of

Mojo. 

Cheers

Jeff