Colorado High

45 hours driving within 6 days brought me to Colorado and back. When my Toyota 4-runner at 206,000 miles decides to die on me is undetermined but for these 6 days it preformed the job asked of it. Rob and I go back 31 years to when we met at the Jester Dormitory on the Univ. of Texas-Austin campus as freshmen. He was studying engineering and I attempting a degree in cluelessness. After miserably failing out of UT I maintained contact with Rob and his soon-to-be wife Sue. Both he and she were working for the war profiteering Lockheed Corp. in Austin. When they tired of working on Tomahawk missiles they changed directions in their lives to concentrate on physical fitness and therapy. Degrees in this field took them to Montana, Washington and Oregon. A bold move to Grand Junction, CO resulted in anxious moments of dwindling funds until the Gods of recreation took pity and gave them each a job as Physical fitness instructors at Mesa State University.

Cut to the present. I stayed two days in Grand Junction with Rob as my guide into the mountain range outside the city. Our first hike was downhill and through a canyon for 8 miles. Phenomenal trail therapy allowed me to vent my anger at Dungpileton and the cultural isolation I've endured over the last 11 years. Walking the trails I railed against the lack of intelligent rapport, the wasting of mind and body by the local denizens and their insipid, indolent mentality. I likened my life to that of Robert Neville in the novel "I Am Legend". Robert must endure the onslaught of "vampires" nightly by shoring up the defenses of his house during the day. The vampires are actually creatures induced by a pandemic virus to desire the nourishment of blood. A former co-worker, Ben Cortman, repeatedly calls out for Robert to join him  – "Come out Robert". For years I've shored up my mental house against these vampires I call the zombies of Dungpileton. A mind shored up against the cultural morass, the wastrels that live only to exist on this island of hopelessness. Like Robert I contemplate joining them to end it all, to give in and join the living brain dead. To come home - medicate my body and mind with a myriad of fats and chemicals and listen lemming-like to opinionated faux news media outlets. So easy to just give up and join them I think to myself, so easy to live in utter denial and ignorance. Chelsea offered a brief respite but she was able to escape while I was resigned to maintain my job in the hopes of leaving this cultural wasteland someday. "Come out Thomas" is what I hear every day and my tope consumption of alcohol offers only a momentary escape.

And so the trail helped me vent for a time until I reenter the land of Zombies. We walked for 8 pleasant miles, mostly downhill. The air was crisp and temps hovering around 70 degrees. Very few hikers were on the trail this day as we bonded with Mother Earth. On a detour that added one more mile we came up a canyon that prompted Rob to explain about the geological formations; the layers of sediment and their age.  I quipped that it made sense or a creationists might say God took his finger and swiped out a giant indention in the earth to make this canyon.  I like Rob's answer.  To quote him: “I would rather be a magnificent speck than a grandiose inheritor.   The next day was a little more arduous. This sea level flatlander followed Rob up a steep 2 mile accent up Mt. Garfield. I was up for the challenge although my lungs and legs begged to differ. Nevertheless I was victorious. As you hikers know the decent is sometimes more brutal on the body and my legs paid the price for my endeavor for the next few days.


Back in Zombieland. Pictures when I can find that damn SD card.