Wyoming May be Out to Get Me

Wide open spaces, mountain ranges coming and going in the distance. That endless highway so romanticized in the American mindset. The freedom of the road.

Then of course there is the relentless wind. Plus blizzards, sudden dust storms, and hail.

My first trip there as an adult was with some college mates, driving to spend a wild New Years in my sister's new home town. Suddenly, truly without warning, the clear dry pavement gave way to deep slush. I lost control and slid off the road - way off, out into a field where the snow went up to the window and scraped some necessary parts off the bottom of the car.

Since then, there have been multiple flat tires, numerous car-sliding-on-ice events, and several near misses with deer and trucks.

I don't think I'm exaggerating when I say that Wyoming is out to get me.

Because both my sisters live there, I've had the opportunity to visit many times, often over Labor Day weekend. I love my sisters very much and enjoy seeing them, but I have an uneasy relationship with the Equality State.

Home to some beautiful places such as Yellowstone National Park, Wyoming is, by population, the smallest state in the U.S. But when you're driving for hours through the endless, treeless plains, it's surely one of the largest. The great distances between towns make parts extremely isolated so if something happens, you might be stranded for a while. Cell phone coverage is sparse along some stretches, so you truly are at the mercy of the elements.

For example, with the nonstop wind, if there's any snow on the ground, even if it's sunny above, chances are you can't see the road because of ground blizzards.

It's not just the landscape and weather that make Wyoming a challenge for me. There seems to be some, well, bad luck whenever I go there. A couple of years ago my dad came with me. The Saturday night of Labor Day weekend, we had to rush him to the nearest hospital which was 70 miles away. He recovered. I was a mess.

Sometimes my health acts up as well. Another Labor Day, I had to pull off the interstate at Terry Bison Ranch near Cheyenne to deal with sudden and severe nausea and muscle pain. It was the first flair up of what turned out to be West Nile virus. I spent the next several months fighting fevers and holding ice packs on my arms to decrease the pain. I can't really blame that on Wyoming, but isn't it odd that the symptoms first appeared there?

I have to take full responsibility for some of the disasters I encounter, like taking a wrong turn outside of Lander and accidentally going hundreds of miles out of my way to Rock Springs, which is not the loveliest place to be.

Unusual things happen to other people in Wyoming as well.

My sister once hit a deer in the dark on the road near her house.

Let me make that a little more clear. She wasn’t in the car. She ran into the deer. In the dark. With her body. While she was jogging.

In addition to the plethora of wildlife on the road, domestic animals can also cause inconvenience.

A cattle drive blocking the highway is always fun to see - for the first half hour. Who says traffic jams are limited to urban freeways at rush hour? When stuck behind real honest to goodness cowboys on horses herding cattle, I struggle to repress my mile high road rage and focus on the natural beauty of muscular denim-sheathed legs firmly working a saddle. Sometimes they drive little 4x4s instead of horses and it’s not quite as sexy.

The locals aren't always friendly to people from Colorado. Their view is that we’ve ruined our state with population and pollution and now want to ruin theirs. I don't doubt they have a point. But I try to go the speed limit and dispel whatever stereotypes I can about my home. It’s unsettling to hear snarling behind your back along the lines of, "Greenie go home," while gassing the car or visiting a rest area. "Greenie" refers to the color of our Colorado license plates.

My mother was out walking one time when a neighbor of my sister’s fired some shots at her. To my knowledge, she’s the only member of my family who has ever been shot at, and some of us have lived in some pretty scary neighborhoods.

It sounds like I don't like Wyoming, but I do. The people who live there are generally warm and friendly (greenie-haters notwithstanding). The time we slid off the road, for example, a trucker stopped within minutes to tow us out. My sisters' friends are colorful and interesting and come from all over the world to live in the wide open west. My niece and nephew grew up trusting just about everyone in their community, absent of crime and urban misery. There aren't many kids who can have horses in their back yards or who can leave their belongings on the sidewalk in front of the local shop without worrying they'll get stolen.

I just personally don't have good karma there.

Next week I go up for a Labor Day visit. I have new tires on the car and snow is unlikely (but not out of the question). Dad's in good health. I'm in good health. Hunting season will have started, so most folks itching to shoot will be out in the boonies. I think it will be ok, this time.

Denying Reality – Revering Falsehood

So is President Obama a Muslim or not? I don’t know who to believe. Glenn Beck, or everyone else?

Of course the President is not a Muslim. It is a proven, indisputable fact. It’s been demonstrated over and over again that he is a practicing Christian and has been for a very long time. Yet, new polls this week show an increasing number of Americans believe he’s Muslim.

Let’s quickly brush over the question of whether it would be such a bad thing if he were. He isn’t.

What is wrong with people in this country? Are we that stupid or do we just believe what’s convenient to believe?

Selective knowledge is convenient. How easy it is to forget the First Amendment when a house of worship is being built in a location that makes us uncomfortable.

No matter how we harangue Supreme Court nominees about following the Constitution to the letter, it’s very easy to switch gears and casually suggest changing that hallowed document when it inconveniently challenges our prejudices about who should be a citizen.

We are the most information saturated people of all time, but so many of us believe incredible lies in spite of overwhelming evidence:

• Global warming is a hoax
• The holocaust never happened
• The earth is flat
• Evolution is just a theory
• Barack Obama was not born an American citizen
• FOX News is fair and balanced

Perhaps I’m overly preoccupied with the truth. I seem to dwell on scientifically viable fears that most people just ignore.

While most other American viewers were watching America’s Got Talent the other night, I watched a two hour program about the seven top ways the human species might be wiped out. Why I opt for this type of programming for my evening entertainment, I can't say. But that list included:

• Gamma rays from outer space
• Passing black holes
• Killer asteroids
• Viral pandemics
• Nuclear weapons
• The super volcano in Yellowstone
• And of course, climate change, which was number one on the list

The fact that I remember all seven off the top of my head tells you something about where my head is (I don’t even remember my own work phone number). But I will tell you this: that program was legitimate science and the evidence was presented by real scientists; not talk show drama queens (Glenn Beck, Rush Limbaugh) who never let the facts get in the way of a good story.

With all the information at our fingertips, why is it so hard for a technological population such as our own to separate the fact from the fiction?

Frankly, the facts are much more sensational. I lose a lot more sleep worrying about that super volcano than about the mosque in my neighborhood.

Howdy from Tourist Country

Colorado is a tourist destination. I know that surprises you enormously, but sometimes those of us who live here forget the close proximity of attractions that many others travel a long way to see.

A couple of weeks ago, for the first time in the 21 years I’ve lived here, I went to the top of Pikes Peak. If it weren’t for friends visiting from Georgia, I would have missed the bluest sky ever, a herd of bighorn sheep, and of course the home made donuts at the top. Pikes Peak was just one of many options within reasonable driving distance that I gave my guests for sight-seeing. Others included the Royal Gorge, the King Tut exhibit at the Denver Art Museum (DAM), and a hot springs near Winter Park.

I haven’t seen any of those other attractions either, and probably won’t unless more friends visit from the east.

I say the east because visitors from the west are generally less impressed with what Colorado has to offer. After all, California has better weather and beaches. The mountains in Washington and Oregon seem bigger (even though they really aren’t) because they rise from sea level. Also, those mountains are arguably more interesting because as volcanoes, they could blow at any time.

It’s the visitors from parts east that seem to enjoy Colorado the most. Families from Michigan, Illinois, and Nebraska plan their entire summer vacation around the chance to see a little scenery, touch some snow in July, and cool off at high altitudes. Iowans a little less so – let’s just say that you had better not be in a hurry if you get behind a car from Iowa in the mountains. At that speed, by the time they get to where they’re going, they’ll just have to turn around and go home.

Visitors from further east are really surprised by what they find here. One of my professors from graduate school heaped praise upon Denver by saying, “I was surprised to see such a bustling little city out there!” His impression was formed on the train from Concourse A to Concourse B while changing planes at Denver International Airport.

Easterners may insult us out of ignorance, but some westerners are pure snobs. While I personally like the Midwest and occasionally fantasize about moving back some day, Californians who think Colorado is part of that region are just asking for a pointy cowboy boot in the behind. And don’t even get me started about being described dismissively as “the great flyover.” Hey if that’s all this is to you, don’t visit. Just fly on over to the stinking cesspools of “civilization” and good luck trying to cool off there.

It’s the folks from the central and eastern time zones that seem to most appreciate being out here.

As one companion from Virginia watched a tumbleweed roll in front of the car near Boulder, he said he didn’t realize there actually were such things. Snapping a picture through the window, he explained that he thought they were just props used in movie westerns.

Years ago a friend visited Denver from New York City. He repeatedly declined offers to go to the mountains, but very much enjoyed what he called his visit to “the country.” I don’t think he left the city limits the entire time. It was enough for the Manhattanite to see green grass and trees through the Starbucks window.

Some friends’ relatives visiting from New Jersey bragged about catching bunches of trout in Estes Park. Turns out they literally stuck their rented lines into a crowded barrel of non-native rainbows. Hey, at least they had a good time and left some of their Jersey dollars here.

My favorite story is about taking a European to Trail Ridge Road in Rocky Mountain National Park. He didn’t realize we would actually drive into and up on top of the mountains. He was just expecting to drive around them, admiring from afar.

Yes, I’m poking fun at people who actually enrich my state by visiting. In fact, when I see Colorado through their eyes, I’m reminded of how great it is to live here. After all, when I lived in the east, where did I go for vacations? You guessed it.

Of course that was before I discovered how much I like San Diego.

Oblivious to Nature? Stay Inside!

Though there’s still plenty of heat left this year, mornings are cooler and the days are getting shorter. Some local schools are already in session. It’s occurring to people that summer is winding down.

This morning as I took my weekly 5:00 a.m. hike out at Cherry Creek State Park, there seemed to be more joggers and cyclists than usual. Surprisingly, out on the water in addition to the rowing club, speed boats with water-skiers and even jet skis were starting to pollute the otherwise peaceful morning quiet with their noise.

By 6:00 I heard booming announcements from a loudspeaker near the marina. Much as I wanted to continue my communion with the prairie grass, cottonwoods, and pelicans, I decided to hightail it back to the car before the race or marathon or whatever it was came my way.

I understand that I have to share the park. Situated smack in the middle of the metro area, CCSP is the most used state park in Colorado. Considering the miles of surrounding urban concrete, it’s remarkable that just 20 minutes away from my house (when traffic is light), I can be in the middle of a forest observing deer (today I saw a youngster with spots), or watching the breeze blow the rushes from side to side as all awareness of the city slips away.

Until about 9:00. Even when it’s too cold to water-ski, the shooting range is open. I’m not even sure where it is, but I definitely hear the “pop” and “boom” of individuals using that part of the park to exercise their second amendment rights.

A little later, a high-pitched whir can be heard. It’s the model airplane people, using their area to buzz and dip their miniature flying craft like prehistoric dragonflies.

Down the road a stretch, dogs joyously run, leash-free.

I guess it’s great that so many can use the park for such varying activities. If I finish hiking and meditating before 7:00 a.m., I can pretend I have the whole place, more or less to myself, and good for all those other people for using their state park the rest of the day.

I do have a question, however. Why do so many joggers and cyclists have headphones on? Why on earth would they listen to iPods when the distinctive sound of meadowlarks echo across the plains? Wouldn’t they be safer if they could hear me driving up behind them as they take up two thirds of the road?

Today I observed a couple run right by a startled deer. These people paid no more attention than they would to a squirrel in the yard.

I was raised to appreciate the sighting of a deer. All through my childhood, if one of us pointed out the car window and said, “Deer!” all conversation would stop. A couple of us would whisper, “Where? Where?” and everyone would look as long as the timid creature could be seen.

Now if one of us had to pee, good luck getting that car stopped, but I digress. Where was I? Oh yes, people wearing headphones out in the woods.

Here’s a thought. If you’re oblivious to nature, just stay inside so it’s less crowded for the rest of us.