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.
- A HIV research Doctor for the CDC
- A cable guy
- A pilot for a commercial airline
- A librarian
- A High School principal
- Two managers from Fortune 500 Insurance companies.
- A massage therapist
- A liquor store manager
- An accountant
- One Jewish firefighter
- 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.”
