Now I Get It.

In my rookie month (August 2019) of residing in Durango, Colorado I was on the fast track of exploring my new neighborhood. I headed up nearby Kennebec Pass knowing Barley the Van (this was before my purchase of Sanctuary One) wouldn’t make it to the top. 

I juddered along as far as possible, parked then hoisted my backpack and started hiking uphill. 

Sitting above the Mighty La Plata River at 11,683 feet is Kennebec Pass (which offers up some of Colorado’s best views.) It’s also part of the 567 mile Colorado Trail linking Denver to Durango. After two hours of sweat labor I earned the Pass. Why not mosey up the Colorado Trail toward Denver? So that’s what I did. Of course it was all quite beautiful with a bouquet of wildflowers augmenting the rugged La Plata mountains. Once I crested Indian Ridge, I knew it was time to head down. Kennebec Pass is a dead end road. Knowing this I decided to hitch back down to Barley the Van sparing my arthritic knees a round of aspirin. 

I noticed a gentleman accompanied by two octogenarians women. They just finished their scenic picnic lunch. I asked politely if they had any spare room in their Toyota Tundra. The gentleman said “Sure! But I hope you’re not in a rush.” I wasn’t so I piled in.

As we bounced our way down, every once in awhile a duet from the back would exclaim, “Stop the truck! There’s wildflowers here.” So the nice gentleman pulled over. Out (very slowly) the women would emerge. They’d wander over to the wildflower display, take photos and discuss the particular arrangement. They were in the zone. When this particular spot had satiated them, we moved down. That was until the next, “Stop the truck!”

Now almost four years later, I get it. I’m not as spry as I once was. I’ve lost a few quick steps on the uphill. I’m well aware I might be close to the two minute warning of my active life. I’m noticing my surroundings more with the notion of “how many years can I keep doing this?” Recently I’ve been  looking at hikes and campouts in a new light. 

I’m collecting data now  as I wander around the incredible Four Corners region, Is there a clean, quiet US Forest Service, BLM or National Park campground nearby? If not how are the “boon docking” options (free dispersed campsites on Public Lands) OK? Is there sufficient sunlight for my solar panels to charge the batteries? (Very important consideration for keeping my IPAs cold ) Lastly, are there gentle amble hikes instead of brutal calf burners? 

In other words I’m creating a future game plan. All these thoughts are geared toward extending my outdoor career. I know by now whatever befalls me, my passions lie in being outside (except in winter and inclement weather!) After all how difficult will it be to cook a few meals, pack plenty of IPAs and books and go? 

And yes, I will “Stop the truck!” whenever I come across a particularly beautiful  display of wildflowers.

Cheers,

Please don’t  forget to stop your truck, just so nobody is tailgating you.

Chasing Memories.

Chasing Memories…

It had been over 1.5 years since the Wandering Wondering Jew last touched down on the Front Range of Colorado. A Sambur family reunion (just like an Irish Catholic family reunion only heaps smaller) was the reason. With this in mind, I made a game plan for my return to the flatter and more populated part of the Centennial State.

In order to break up the long drive I decided to stop for an overnight in Salida, CO. 

Salida is a cool mountain town which sits on the banks of the Mighty Arkansas River. It’s a artsy community with a youngish liberal bent. It’s also home to the Victoria Tavern. 

Ahh! The “Vic” was a notorious, famous/infamous dive bar made legendary by Team Bar2Bar on Ride the Rockies. RTR was the Denver Post sponsored bicycle tour through the passes and mountain towns of Colorado.

Team Bar2Bar was a collection of drinkers with a cycling problem. Before you think “what a bunch of low rent dirt-bags.” (Well maybe just a little). Let me tell you about a few of our members.

1. A HIV research Doctor for the CDC
2. A cable guy

1. A pilot for a commercial airline 
2. A librarian 
3. A High School principal 
4. Two managers from Fortune 500 Insurance companies.
5. A massage  therapist 
6. A liquor store manager 
7. An accountant 
8. One Jewish firefighter
9. Two Cybersecurity experts who worked on “if I told you, I’d have to kill you” projects for the Gobment.

I was the CEO and social director.. From 1988-2008 I rode each and every mile and drank pretty much whatever decent beer was handed to me. 

They were simpler times. People got along despite educational, political and social differences. All it took to become a member of Team Bar2Bar was to buy a round and not be a putz. See? Simple. 

With a feeling of nostalgia for those Good Ol’ Days, I stopped at the “Vic.” Alas, it was shuttered. It too, had made an untimely departure from this world. BTW. Three of the original Team Bar2Bar members have started a heavenly version of Team Bar2Bar.

RIP:

Jack:The High School Principal

Joe AKA “Trauma”: The liquor store manager.

Paul the Pilot

Next stop was Boulder, home to my nephew Keith and his effervescent wife Courtney. They lead frenetic lives centered around their children Sydney and Dylan. This being a Sunday was no exception. Dylan was acting in a play to a sold out audience. Cortney scored the last ticket for me.I was expecting scalpers when I arrived, but fortunately not. The mini Meryl  Streep’s and Robert De Nero’s  were extremely talented. The crowd of mostly adoring parents went wild at the curtain call. I’ll admit it, I really enjoyed the show. Afterwards we all went out for Happy Hour and dinner. That for me was the real standing ovation.

Next stop was Fort Collins. For a little over three decades, the “Choice City” was where I worked, purchased two residences, threw huge parties in them, made friends and acquaintances and fell in love a few times. As a life-long restless by nature kind of guy, Fort Collins came closest to that elusive concept (for me) of “Home.” 

In 48 hours, I met former colleagues and buddies at a Happy Hour gathering. The venue  wasn’t conducive to deep conversations. Although I did manage to ask each and every one of them. “Sure you don’t want to move to Durango? I could use a few buddies there.”

On the second day, I had more in-depth  visits with Nelson (for a hike) and Paul and Robin for dinner and Happy Hour. Between the three of them that’s over a hundred years of friendship. That’s not easily replaceable. Before these meetups, I made breakfast for my nephew Justin. A whirlwind stopover.

Remember the reason for me being on the Front Range? A family reunion! 

The best brother and sister-in-law in the World (AKA Mike and Robin) were flying into DIA. I happily volunteered to be the Uber driver, concierge, bellboy and guide for the inaugural “Tour de Acclimatization to Thin Air.” (No need to go into details, but fortunately the end result was positive).

Yes! We’d be turning our backs to those boring mountains, high altitude passes (with a view) and brewpubs to the west. 

Our goal was the lower Oxygen laden tablelands of eastern Colorado where’s there’s grass! And cattle hanging out in stinky cow-pie rich feed lots! And windmills! And tornado watches! And a few pockets of humanity where the locals call home like Sterling (3,875 feet) and Fort Morgan (self proclaimed “Oasis of the Plains” at 4,324 feet.)

Yes! Those were our vacation destinations.

All kidding aside, this was my 72 hour adult quality time visit with Mike and Robin. We made the best of the situation, had some laughs, caught up on family gossip, visited the revitalized downtown of FM (Paris! Rome! New York! Fort Morgan!) and ate way too many breakfast buffets at our hotels. 

You see when M&R are with their children and grandkids, they morph into the best parents and grandparents in the world. A gig they take seriously and which I fully understand.

My mission was complete when I dropped Mom/Dad, Grammy/Grampy off in Boulder (5,318 feet).  My chasing memories tour was at its end. As usual, I’ll miss them all. 

Now back in Durango, my new memories have been place based instead of people based. The Four Corners region has superseded my wildest expectations of beauty and interest. Sadly for me, the social scene has been lagging behind. Between trips, I’ll keep plugging away and putting myself out there. 

Wish me luck!

Cheers to all your fine memories whether they are old or new,

Jeff

PS. Before I left the Fort, I made a quick stop at my former Old Town home. I was shocked by what I saw. The landscaping I lovingly planted and nurtured had gone feral and overgrown. The house itself was painted over replacing the bright sunny yellow and blue trim with a military olive green low lighted by poop brown trim. The insult was the new owner never asked me for permission! The overall vibe was dark and menacing. I imagined this is what Boo Radley’s  pad looked like in “To Kill a Mockingbird.” I sulked off feeling sad.

The author Thomas Wolfe was right, “You Can’t Go Home Again.” 

“Jeffy writes a lot better than he speaks”

Statement from my sister-in-law Robin Sambur

I’m not a public speaker. My comfort zone is one on one/small group conversational communication or just plain silence. 

I’m the kind of guy who when asked about a campout will gush. “The hiking and weather were perfect. I didn’t speak to anyone for a week. It was great!”

So why would I leap an intergalactic distance beyond my comfort zone with a Holocaust Awareness presentation at the Durango Public Library? Because of the recent rising trifecta of White Supremacy, Nationalism and Anti-Semitism. Because a former president is honky dory with breaking cheeseburgers with two avowed Anti-Semites and Holocaust deniers. That’s why.

The full title of the program was “Holocaust Awareness: A unique perspective from a son of Holocaust Survivors.” 

Honestly, children of Holocaust Survivors in NYC are as prevalent as pizzerias.  There’s heaps of each. BUT in Durango, CO land of Anglo American descendants of the Mayflower,

I knew my family history would stand out. 

As one long time resident opined, “Durango is a pretty sheltered town.” 

I launched the idea to Daisy the library’s programming director. After a few emails and a synopsis of my talk, I got the green light. That was about six months ago. OY! Now I was committed. I’d eventually have to stand up in front of strangers and speak. 

The plan was to use my family themed blogs as a template for the talk. I’d intersperse historical events as well. For the visual part, there was black and white family photos. Easy! Right? (except for the speaking part).

I purchased an old fashioned lined school kid notebook and started writing my spiel.. No problem with that. After a few drafts, I had my thoughts and ideas on something solid and tangible. Now I needed to vocalize the story since Spock-like Volcan mind melds are a rare talent.

At home, I stood in front of a sunny side window and began to read the story from the notebook. Bad idea! This was too distracting and caused too many “Ummm” and other stuttering moments. I memorized the talk.

Three days before “Program Lift Off” one of my few buddies in Durango granted me an audition. Sarah even fed me! It didn’t go well , my talk not her meal. I had to take it from the top twice before I got through my speech. Sarah was kind enough to give me encouraging words, although I knew I had to elevate my game. 

I was nervous. I couldn’t sleep or eat! Although Happy Hour IPAs went down well. Then! A lightning bolt struck nearby, the Red Sea might have parted once again. A Sambini original idea was formed. I’d feed the audience.After all food is the universal ice breaker.

Armed with two Crockpots of vegetarian Minnesota Soup and two bags of “Cutie” oranges,

I met each and every audience member at the door. I introduced myself, slipped them an orange, “cuz there’s a lot of scurvy going around” and pointed them to the soup. I urged them to “Eat! Eat!” bringing out my Jewish Mother in a man’s body instincts. I made a connection. Ice Broken.

I flew through the presentation without the need to dodge any rotten tomatoes. The spectators was estimated to be from 55-60, (which is a Super Bowl crowd for Durango.) 

Special shout out to my neighbor Tanya Spielberg who filmed the talk and fellow Member of the Tribe Nadine who shot the photos. 

Here it is on YouTube: 

https://youtu.be/JqHc4kAAuzs

Read all about Minnesota Soup:

http://jeffsambur.blogspot.com/2020/01/

Last photo:

Everyone except my father (standing in the middle) were murdered in the Holocaust. Yes, there’s four children in the family photo too. 

Get the word out, the Holocaust happened. Nick Fuentes and his ilk are wrong. Humanity can and should do better than this.

Let’s perform more acts of Tikunn Olam (repair the world) and less acts of death and destruction.