I wasn’t born in a small town...

Well I was born in a small town

And I live in a small town

Probably die in a small town

Oh, those small communities

Small Town 

Lyrics by John Cougar Mellencamp 

Unlike John Cougar M, I never lived in a small town, until now in Durango, CO. (Population 19,000). 

In 1978, I chose to take the purported advice of Horace Greeley to “Go West, young man, go West and grow up with the country.” I left the chaos of New York City behind along with its 7.8 million inhabitants. Let it be known I never agonized over my life changing decision to leave the “Big Apple.” 

I moved to Fort Collins, CO where the population was about 62,000. At the time, it felt sort of puny. I remember all the hubbub when it’s first Target store opened on the outskirts of South College Avenue. The common comments one heard was “who’s going to go all that way to shop?” Now it’s location is considered less than midtown. When I moved away in 2009, Fort Collins’ population had grown to 141,000.

Next stop was Tucson, AZ with its 525,000 inhabitants. My furniture were barely in my rental’s door when I knew it wasn’t a right fit. I felt like a small Gefilte Fish in a big pond. On top of that Tucson was far from thriving. The “Old Pueblo” felt... well old, worn and in dire need of a makeover. The streets were rutted, litter was as prevalent as cactus and petty theft seemed to be the rule of the land. I made very few human connections there. (You know who you are.)

Alas, due to a lower than average cost of living and a recession fueled degradation of my 401 pension, I was economically stuck there for four winters of discontent. 

Then in July 2011, the “Poop Happens” dart of fate intervened. Harshly. I was rear ended on my bicycle by a sedan. I woke up in a ditch. I broke eleven vertebrae and sternum. My face was made messier than usual. It took me a year to heal.

Eventually I received a monetary settlement. Financial Freedom. I wouldn’t advise this as a way to bolster your retirement savings. I sold, tossed or donated all my worldly possessions in my final winter of discontent in Tucson AZ. In April 2013, I became “Homeless by Choice.” 

Leaving Tucson wasn’t a decision I agonized over either.

http://jeffsambur.blogspot.com/2016/06/i-never-thought-of-myself-as-a.html

For over six years, I traveled. By the spring of 2018, the rootless lifestyle had lost its new Barley the CamperVan feeling. 

I wisely chose Durango, CO to settle in. 

https://jeffsambur.blogspot.com/2019/08/in-america-if-you-dont-have-address.html

I moved to this regional center of Southwest Colorado primarily for its location to so many square miles of Wild and Scenic places. (All these pretty photos except a few were taken within a few hours drive from my home). The city might be small but the views and surrounding landscapes are BIGLY. 

But there's another thing that’s HUGE about my new hometown. Durango is a petite city where people have San Juan Mountains sized passions. Since moving here, I’ve had the pleasure of attending two meetings of Durango Green Drinks. What’s that you might ask?

Straight from the website: Durango Green Drinks, a fun, informal monthly gathering organized by the Sustainability Alliance of SW Colorado. A fantastic group of sustainability-minded local non-profits sponsor the event and rotate hosting responsibilities. October is being hosted by our friends and partners at Mountain Studies Institute and The Wilderness Society. It is a fun and relaxed opportunity to connect, chat, network, and be inspired. Brief announcements are followed by short presentations by host organizations, which rotates monthly. There is plenty of time to network and catch up with friends. Green Drinks is non-partisan.

After a lively Happy Hour, a handful of people got up on soapboxes and spoke about their passions/causes. Here’s a few examples:

An earnest young Mother was seeking signatures to present to the Durango city council. She wanted to place distance restrictions on how close microwave towers can be to a residence. “My children got sick when a cellphone tower was placed near our home. We moved. Now they want to put another tower near my new home. I don’t want my kids to get sick again.” Whom was I to doubt her? I signed her petition.

An older gentleman was asking for people to participate in a silent protest to raise local awareness of the “Climate Crisis.” 

A member of “Conservation Colorado” spoke at length about environmentally friendly politicians running for office. He held the crowds attention. 

A member of the “Great Old Broads for Wilderness” talked about the non-profit’s advocacy program pertaining to wilderness preservation issues. She went on to state the GOBOW aren’t all talk. They sponsor hands-on mitigation projects as well. I’m a dues paying member of this organization.  I attended a fen restoration project. They call me a “Great Old Bro for Wilderness.”

Throughout all these presentations, I sipped my “Yankee Boy Basin” IPA and grinned. I too, have my passions. I burn at a higher than 98.6 body temperature when it comes to these environmental/wild lands sensitive issues. I might have found “my people.” They were speaking my language. 

I’m feeling at home here. 

Just wish Durango had a Target Store.

Cheers from the prettiest part of Colorado,

Jeff

PS. The bartenders in the brewpubs know me by name. They pour me an IPA without me asking. Not sure if this is a good thing!