Back in the Land of the Superfit...

Yep! Boulder, Colorado home to the single digit % of body fat folks and Über athletes. 

Atop 8,144' Green Mountain, I was scoring side-long glances from the wiry trail runners and double-quick-time hikers. I could almost hear their thoughts. "Man! That guy needs to push himself away from the table. What a fatty!" 

It's true. There's been too many breakfast burritos, brews and a slothful existence the past few weeks. I need to get back into somewhat Boulder shape. It's so embarrassing when those gifted physical specimens point at me and snicker. 

If I don't lean up the local BMI (Body Mass Index) Police will be on my case again.

Just like last time only the same...

http://jeffsambur.blogspot.ae/2014/08/busted-in-boulder-colorado.html

Excuse me while I drink a gluten-free smoothie. 

Final photo: The Sambur clan celebrating Brother Mike's 21st birthday (again). The diet starts today. 

The Samburs meet the...

Ancient Ones. 

The Old Timers were gone but their cliff dwelling homes remained. It's all there (what the NPS allows the citizens to see) in Mesa Verde National Park. 

Brother Mike and Robin survived the obstacle course of Balcony House Ruin. Climbing up a 32 foot ladder? No sweat. A crawl through a narrow twelve foot tunnel? No biggie. A very angled uphill ascent along an old trail? Bring it on! These are two tough Long Islanders. 

Now the ultimate question still remains concerning Mesa Verde. Why did the residents wander away from their pads around 1300 AD?

Glad you asked.

The Eggheads have many theories: drought, degradation of resources, the threat of invasion from not-so-nice tribes and the "I'm tired of looking at the same old Mesa. Let's go somewhere else" theory. 

They are all wrong. It's all about the beer.

Here's my thoughts.

The Ancient One brewmasters  had a few years of disappointing barley and hops harvest. Their beer production was nil. They needed to resort to trade to score a few good IPA's. The cliff dwelling elders sent the young bucks off to exchange pottery beer mugs for the liquid itself from the southerly faraway brewmasters. Unfortunately, the youngsters drank all the brew while journeying back to their cliff dwelling clans. 

Here's how the sad arrival scene went.

Cliff Dwelling Elder. "OY! The beer is gone? You didn't leave us any? Are you stupid in the brain?" 

An Elders meeting was convened. The tribes needed a solution to this beer dilemma. 

The wisest Ancient One thought for a moment and exclaimed. "Let's not me schlimazels. Let's move to the brew! Besides, I'm tired of looking at the same old Mesa anyway. In a few centuries, this place will make a great National Park."  

And that's how it all went down.

Cheers.

In photo number one, our brave New York explorers discover Spruce Tree Ruin.

Final Photo. An explorer must eat a proper breakfast before taking on the challenges of the ruins. We got our fill at the Durango Diner. That's Gary the owner and all around nice guy too.

Our Intrepid Explorers....

took on the rigors of the rugged San Juan Mountains of southwest Colorado. They summited three mountain passes and have photos to prove it. 

And just like Lewis and Clark, they survived and "We will proceed on." 

Robin wanted to shoot more photos of the high altitude skyline. I patiently explained that Colorado has many mountains. There's 54 peaks over 14,000 feet and 600-plus mountains in excess of 13,000 feet. You can take lots of pix here without snapping the same mountain twice.

This is what I love about this state. 

After a hard day of adventuring, our globetrotters retired to the Steamworks brewpub in Durango for serious sustenance. That's right, a Colorado Cajun Boil. 

Today, we'll take on Mesa Verde. 

Watch out Ancient Ones, here we come.

BEWARE! Samburs...

Unleashed! 

I am now an official Colorado tour guide for brother Mike and bestest  sister-in-law Robin. 

No road trip of Colorado is complete without a stopover at the Turntable Diner in Minturn. It's the home of the World Famous Boo! (AKA the best breakfast burrito in the Centennial state.) 

http://jeffsambur.blogspot.com/2014/08/there-will-never-be.html

My family members concurred the four bonus miles of driving was well worth the detour. There are many (like nephew J-Man) who can't handle the Boo. You are wimps. Period. 

Our post Boo breakfast was spent at the Glenwood Hot Springs. (The world's largest hot springs pool)

Surf's Up! Dude! 

Next stop. Ouray. 

PS. My Colorado guide services can be obtained at a reasonable rate. A few IPA's and maybe a breakfast burrito is all the payment I need. 

Such a deal!

Come on Summer!

Jeff

I still miss

my Mother.

Clara Sambur exited this world when she and I were both too young. She was 52 and I was 17 at the time. In that short period she left an everlasting positive impression on me.

 

Funny thing is, she pulled it all off in subliminal manner. 

My smile came directly from her. No doubt about it. My affectionate and nurturing side too. In other words, she made me what I am today. A male Jewish Mother! 

Whenever Clara wasn't involved in hugging one of her three "boychiks" she could be found lounging around with an open book. She passed her love of the written word onto her baby boy. 

It wasn't like she ever sat me down and told me, "Jeffy! Read! It's good for you!" No. That wasn't her style. I guess when I saw her reading with a perpetual grin on her face, I figured it must be a good thing. So I began to inhale books too.

http://jeffsambur.blogspot.com/2015/04/kosher-for-passover-bagels-and-beer.html

Losing her at the between age of 17 (not a child, but not an adult either) was the defining moment on how I turned out to be. Without her subtle guidance I developed an independent nature. Now I consider myself a sociable hermit. 

My brother Mike has come the closest to filling the mentoring void in my life. 

http://jeffsambur.blogspot.com/2014/07/my-brother-mike.html

I might not always do what he says, but I do listen to him. 

So...Mom thanks for all you've generously given me. I wish you didn't leave Earth so soon. 

From soggy and now White Death Boulder, Colorado 

Happy Mother's Day!

Photo One: Brother Mike and I and Clara's Great Grandchild Dylan. 

Photo Two: I'm doing a bit of nurturing at a tykes Tea Party. 

It's more than a huge litter box...

The Great Sand Dunes National Park is another "What the Heck!" is going on here oddity of the San Luis Valley. This high valley (average altitude 7,600 feet) is home to an alligator park, a UFO viewing platform, the legacies of the Spanish Land Grants and numerous farms growing red potatoes, alfalfa and Barley. In certain towns, English is a second language. Green chile and breakfast burritos are standard fare in the cafes and diners. The SLV is one of my favorite regions of Colorado. 

Back to the Dunes: The San Luis Valley is hemmed in between the San Juan and the Sangre de Cristo mountain ranges. The winds here are relentless and don't believe in time outs. The more-than-never-ending breezes vacuum up the topsoil as it rolls along the valley floor. Boom! The winds strike the obstruction of the Sangre de Cristo mountains. The earthy grains drop out. Wallah! Instant (geologically speaking) Great Sand Dunes National Park. 

That's your lesson for the day.

Great Sand Dunes park is another Colorado wonder. Visit it. Make an effort to spend some coin in the nearby communities. This is one of the poorest regions of the Centennial State. But, thats another story. 

Final photo: I don't always hike alone, I had Ladybug company. 

Happy Friday,

Jeff

You Meet the Nicest People V...

at the Durango Diner.

Meet Dean, he was the other Assistant Boatman on our June, 2014 Grand Canyon raft trip.

Unlike me, Dean knew what he was doing. He was able to discern the bow from the stern. He knew what an Eddy is. I kept thinking it was a guest I haven't met yet. He was a pleasure to be around and fit in perfectly in the overall scene. He's a new buddy of mine.

Here's my pre-blog post I wrote about my experience. It was a tough voyage for this old guy.

Assistant Boatman II

In 2011, I acted (right word) as an assistant boatman. The experience was positive enough that I decided to give it a go again.

Lynn (boatman extraordinaire) invited me along for Round Two.

Sadly, the times they are a-changing on the Colorado River. The new generation boatmen are half my age, nimble, experienced and crazy fast in getting chores done.

The next generation also views the Grand Canyon as one vast sleep-away camp featuring swims through rapids, cliff jumping, tug-of-wars and other X Games diversions. All this complete with a "last one in, is a rotten egg" attitude.

Silly me, I thought National Parks were a place to seek solitude, beauty and serenity.

For the first time I my life, I felt like a doddering old man. (I was the oldest crew member among seven). I was humbled and intimidated at the same time.

So... I'm announcing my second retirement. I'll go back to doing what I'm good at. Being a gainfully unemployed retiree.

See, I even have a stone La-Z Boy throne for my non-work space.

BTW. The Grand Canyon is still one of the best places on the planet. In my future, I'll see it at my own pace and schedule. It'll be quieter too. 

And I did go back, just last month. 

http://jeffsambur.blogspot.com/2015/04/why-do-you-think-it-named.html