Agricultural Heritage and Renewable Future at Odds in Norwood

Lone Cone Road crosses Highway 145 just outside of Norwood, and if you turn south it runs straight through pasture land and low shrubs out towards the namesake mountain in the near distance. I meet Terry Lammers there, at a crossroads with a cluster of homes — lambs bleating and chicken scratching in the door yard. 

“My dad moved into that house when he was two years old back in 1936,” says Lammers, gesturing across the street. She continues pointing around the barnyard: “there used to be another trailer here. I lived here. Then we moved there. Then we moved down there when my granddad died.”

Lammers moved away for many years, but returned for retirement and continues to ranch and raise sheep on these family pastures. The land just south of us is the site of a 600-acre solar development proposed by the company One Energy Renewables last May. 

Considering the project, and the land, Lammers says “it would be devastating — at least to my mindset — having that across the road. I mean, just the destruction of beauty, wildlife habitat….there's just so many better suited places for a project of this size.”

This sentiment is shared by many on Wrights Mesa. Outcry over OneEnergy's Project spurred the San Miguel County Commissioners to place a moratorium on all non-residential solar applications in the County until they could write solar regulations into the land use code. The moratorium has stretched on for a year, and Commissioners recently extended it for another six months, promising this would be the last and they'd have rules in place by year’s end.

“We've had Two Joint Planning Commission and Board of County Commissioner work sessions on the draft regulations so far,” explains County Planning Director Kaye Simonson. 

Lammers shows me newspaper clippings which report on those meetings. She pulls out an article from the first work session, which explains the Norwood community turned out en-masse to make public comment, asking that the entirety of Wright's Mesa be removed from consideration for large-scale solar developments.

“So after the January meeting,” Lammers says, “it was pretty much everyone's consensus — or we all thought — that it was a done deal and the Wright's Mesa Rural Ag [Zone District] was going to be removed from large-scale solar.” 

Lammers was shocked when, at the next work session, large-scale solar remained a possibility in the Wrights Mesa Zone District. In the current draft, large-scale is any development over 10 acres although that number is in flux as the drafting process continues. 

Norwood Mayor Candy Meehan says the county’s reluctance to ban utility scale solar in the area has left a sour taste.

“The residents on Wrights Mesa do not feel like the Planning Commission and the Planning Director are paying attention to what we are saying is not a suitable fit for certain pieces of property here on Wrights Mesa and in the town of Norwood,” she says.  

The County has hired Torie Jarvis, a Montrose based land-use lawyer with the firm Sullivan Green Seavy Jarvis to assist in drafting the regulations. 

Speaking of the code-writing process, Jarvis says “the preferred approach would be to develop a set of regulations that protects every possible impact from a development. And if you develop a set of regulations that does that. — where every single impact is addressed and there's no adverse impacts to any neighboring properties, the overall economy, or the environment — then it begs the question: ‘what rationale is there to ban something?’”

Jarvis emphasizes those impacts can be whatever the County may wish. The burden of mitigating impacts will pare down applications until they fit the community's character. Such an approach preserves the essential right of landowners to use their land as they see fit, so long as it doesn't detriment the community as a whole.

“That concept is really getting at that [the idea that] you can do what you want to with your private property as long as you're not impacting anyone else's enjoyment of their land,” Jarvis adds. 

However, whether the county decides to place an outright ban on large-scale solar or go the route of mitigating impacts, says Jarvis, “really will be up to the elected officials”

There's no question: those elected officials are hearing from the Norwood community. Meeting after meeting has been packed with concerned citizens. 

“Mistrust breeds vigilance,” says Meehan. “And I'm afraid that that's something that the Planning Commission, and Director, and County Commissioners are just going to have to accept at this point. Their publications are being watched. Every single meeting is being attended and I don't see that dispersing.”

The conversation here in San Miguel County plays out as the Biden Administration and the State of Colorado are rolling out programs and pledges for a green energy transition. All the incentives for solar are coming into conflict with small communities concerned about the impacts on the ground. This County is not alone, observes Simonson:

“I think this conversation is playing out statewide and nationwide, especially here in the West. Just start researching online; you'll find all sorts of examples, current and recent, where they've had to balance the desire to add to renewables with community sentiment.”

The Colorado Legislature has signaled an interest in increasing state control and reducing local control over solar regulations in order to speed up development. The outcome of those conversations is unclear, but Jarvis notes, as someone working in the field, she suspects there's more to come.

 “I think that this is just going to keep happening and it will be interesting at the Legislature to see if they get more aggressive in having the state have a role in regulating,” she says. 
Back at Lone Cone Road, Lambert says she appreciates the county's efforts to take time and care with the process. She notes meetings have been productive, informed, courteous and well attended. But looking down the street, she feels the outcome may be out of the hands of county residents and elected officials. 

“There's big pushes from the state, that's state owned land…green energy development mandates by what? 2030? I think. So there's just a lot of powers that I don't think we're fully aware of yet, or what we're totally up against.” she says.

The latest draft of the code will be made public by Friday, May 3rd on the San Miguel County website. A third work session will take place on Wednesday, May 8th at both the Norwood Sheriff's Annex in the Miramonte building here in Telluride, coordinated online via zoom.

The meeting starts at 9:30 a.m.

Opposition towards Conservation Effort Brings Senator Hickenlooper to the West End

It's a stormy spring day out in the desert, the kind of blustery weather which might usually keep folks close to home out in the rural west end of Montrose County. But not so on this particular Friday: the gym at the old Natarita High School is packed with residents who have turned out to address US Senator John Hickenlooper.

The Senator's visit is prompted by a growing campaign asking President Biden to name a National Monument along the Dolores River as it carves north through stunning red rock canyons in Montrose in Mesa counties on to the Utah border.  

Earlier this month, conservation groups delivered a petition to Washington, D.C. with over 100,000 signatures calling for a protection of some 400,000 acres of land along the Dolores.

But the tenor out here in the West End is different. Robert Crane says he lived in Dove Creek all his life and has never felt the need to bring protections to the area. 

Put simply, he says “when the government can tell people what to do, it's very tyrannical and I'm against that. So I’m just here in support of halting the Monument. Because we need grazing, we need mining, everybody needs a job, and we need common sense to take care of the planet, not things that we don't have infrastructure for.”

Crane's not alone. Everywhere you look are stickers, signs, and t-shirts calling to “Halt the Dolores.” Making rounds as we await the Senator's arrival I hear concerns that protections would restrict access to these landscapes, rob the area of opportunities for mining and economic growth, and as Nucla resident Lorraine Garvey says, attract a flood of tourists.
“And I truly believe that if it's designated a monument.  That's what we'll get, is a lot of people coming and going on the highways. And we need some people here, and it's not like we're anti-people,” Garvey says. She adds, laughing, “it's just that we're anti too many people! Because we see that as a detriment to the country[side].”

But what I hear more than anything is that these communities were not consulted on the conservation groups’ plan. "Nobody came to us in this country where the Dolores River is and asked us if we wanted a monument, " explains Mark Templeton. 

Dove Creek resident Bill Hampton adds conservationists who have organized to protect the River “keep saying there's tons of local support. And they're talking about people in Durango, people in Steamboat, Boulder. It's not locals supporting it.”

Half an hour before the event begins, attendees file into the gym at the former Naturita High School.

With a flash of fanfare and a bright smile, Hickenlooper arrives and takes his seat at a fold out table covered with a bright yellow cloth in the center of the gymnasium floor.  

The Senator and crowd heard from roughly 50 speakers over an hour and a half expressing their concerns over, opposition towards, and exclusion from the Monument proposal process. 

Sean Pond, a Nucla resident who has organized much of the opposition to the Monument offered opening remarks. “Nobody came to the ranchers, to the miners, to the stakeholders of this community,” he says. “For all the people you see in this room, Sir, I want you to Halt the Dolores National Monument.”   

Only two speakers, it seems, speak in favor of the protections. 

US Senator Hickenlooper seated beside longtime state politician Don Coram (left) who facilitated the meeting.

Hickenlooper keeps his comments brief. In both opening and closing, he emphasizes again and again he wants to hear from the community. “I'm going to listen,” he says. “I'm going to come out here, I'm going to spend as much time with you as you'll give me, and we'll work to the best of our ability to try and find common ground.”

At the session's conclusion, the crowd packs up and disperses into the spring afternoon. 

Senator Hickenlooper moved on to a listening session in Grand Junction, where the City Council has unanimously endorsed the conservation effort. Conservation groups making up the Protect the Dolores Coalition hope to see Biden name a monument before November's election.

But common ground between those calling for protections and those calling for a halt to the monument may be a long way off.

A Vigil for Palestine

Por Julia Caulfield

As dusk falls over Telluride on cool Thursday evening around fifteen members of the community hold a candlelight vigil for Palestine in Elks Park.

“A vigil is an opportunity to come together in a more spiritual way, a more mournful way, to be able to honor and hold sacred space for the events that are taking place right now,” says Lauren Norton one of the organizers of the vigil.

“Candlelight vigils are intentionally peaceful. Candlelight vigils are intentionally an opportunity to grieve our collective humanity and our collective losses. I hope that even though there’s a sign here that says ‘Palestina Libre’, I hope everyone gets the sense that all we want is an end to violence and an end to our dollars being used to fund, in my eyes a genocide, in others eyes a war, in others eyes a conflict. That, for me, has been going on for far too long and caused way too much harm. The opportunity to come together and see people coming together is powerful for Telluride even in these quieter off season moments,” says Norton.

As the group gathers, people share thoughts on why they joined this evening.

“In my eyes, even if this isn’t productive in the sense that we would ideally want it to be, Palestinians also just deserve to be honored and mourned and thought about on a day to day level,” one member says. “I’m doing this for them, even if it has no impact whatsoever. I feel like it’s my responsibility to at least try to have our voices be heard because theirs are not.”

“Anger does have a place and it’s important to feel anger and anger is like a nuclear energy. It can be used destructively, but it can also be used to fuel good. It felt good because I feel anger,” another shares. “Hope is action. When we throw our hands up, there’s nothing we can do, Telluride doesn’t matter. Then we’re not taking action and we’re not engaging in hope at all. As long as we’re doing something, there’s hope to be had for more peace.”

The group takes five minutes of silent reflection as birds whistle springtime songs, cars rumble along.

To close out the silence Norton reads the poem “If I Must Die” by Refaat Alareer.

If I must die, 

you must live 

to tell my story 

to sell my things 

to buy a piece of cloth 

and some strings, 

(make it white with a long tail) 

so that a child, somewhere in Gaza 

while looking heaven in the eye 

awaiting his dad who left in a blaze— 

and bid no one farewell 

not even to his flesh 

not even to himself— 

sees the kite, my kite you made, flying up above 

and thinks for a moment an angel is there 

bringing back love 

If I must die 

let it bring hope 

let it be a tale

The group heads down Main Street, in a candlelight march.

Community members plan to hold more events to show support for Palestine throughout the summer, including a “teach in” to help the public learn more about the war in Gaza.

Telluride Region Works to Adopt Composting

I’m by the bus tubs at the Butcher and Baker Cafe with Rob Kendall, Head of Business Development at Bruin Waste Management. It’s the tail end of Telluride’s winter season and we’re checking out the contents of a compost bucket set up for customers disposing of waste at the end of their meal. 

Stepping outside, Kendall admits the contents are disheartening.

“I mean — there were literally metal forks and knives in there,” says Kendall. “Which tells you a lot about people, right? And tells you that if people see a bin they’ll just throw it out. And training people’s nature is tough especially when they’re on vacation.” 

Bruin Waste is currently running a pilot program to introduce composting to its Waste Management offerings. The pilot is small: Bruin Collects just once a week from three different restaurants in the area — two in Telluride, one in Mountain Village, and also partners with a couple condos and multi-family buildings. 

Compost — a nutrient rich soil which is gold to farmers and gardeners — is made from recycled organic matter: leftover food and coffee grounds, kitchen scraps like an eggshell or an onion skin. In industrial facilities, certain plastic products can also be composted. 

But there is a lot which is not compostable. Napkins, metal, the vast majority of plastic. Educating folks on those distinctions has been difficult. Kendall says they’ve tried a number of techniques:

“Really in-your-face signage, and making— I know it sounds silly — but literally making the compost bucket hard to find. So you really have to make a decision to put something in there,” he says.

As we found, those efforts don’t always bear results from folks absentmindedly bussing their tables at the end of a meal. As such, Bruin has hesitated to introduce composting to the general public — the bucket at The Butcher and Baker was more or less an experiment. They’ve had great success with a more targeted population: the prep cooks, and the kitchen line. 

“For them it’s a lot less decision-making in the back-of-house to throw things away. Versus in the front-of-house they're handling all of the utensils, napkins, things…there are a lot more decisions to be made.”

The benefit of large scale composting is two-fold: it dramatically reduces landfill waste, and food which is properly composted can produce less methane — a harmful greenhouse gas — than it would at a traditional dump. Then, there’s the product: compost can be reapplied in agriculture, creating a closed loop as it powers more vegetable growth. 

It’s catching on. Here’s Kendall:

“One of the major trends in the waste industry is composting. All of the public companies in the major cities are putting in facilities and we’re constantly watching that because our goal is to be a leading waste company country wide. Telluride is the heart of our business and there’s a large appetite for it. So it made sense for us to go into it and we felt like there was an interest in the community.”

Bruin received a number of grants to fund their pilot, including one from the Colorado Department of Public Health and Environment, which takes a tax on landfill waste and directs those funds towards waste reduction projects. Each Friday, Bruin collects compost in Telluride and Mountain Village and trucks it 3xm, an industrial composting facility in Olathe.

“We really want to take our time and get it right,” Kendall says. “So we’re taking our time with baby steps. Where it’s been really strong is in the back of house of restaurants. That is without a doubt the best environment for collecting that waste. Where we’ve struggled to have it take off is in multi-families and in the front-of-house.”

It really comes down to education: how can Bruin teach folks in their own kitchens what is compostable and what is still destined for the landfill? 

The rise of compostable plastics, compostable paper containers, and the difference between industrial compost and a garden or farm compost all make those distinctions more difficult. But, Kendall says they’ve seen enough success to push forward. 

“We’ll continue to add on back of house because that will get us the volume we need to sustain a program. And we’ll continue to work with multi-families to figure out how to make those programs more successful,” Kendall says.  

As the program expands and Bruin continues to truck compostables to 3XM in Olathe, someday your coffee grounds could become next season’s Olathe sweet corn. 

And doesn’t that sound delicious! 

Telluride Art Goes to Washington

Por Julia Caulfield

Photo by Julia Caulfield (KOTO)

Take a trip down memory lane. To March 2020.

In a newscast from March 18, 2020, KOTO News reported, “with coronavirus spreading across the world, local health officials have been moving fast to keep residents of San Miguel County safe and healthy. Over the past week there have been declared local disaster emergencies, schools and libraries have closed, food establishments are switching to take out only, or closing all together. Now we’re being told to shelter in place.

In Telluride, one of the first things to go was the Free Box. But where some saw a beloved town staple gone, one person saw an opportunity.

‘My name is Brandon Berkel. I’m a local artist in Telluride, Colorado. When you see something you really like you have to just move fast and take it.’

What Berkel saw was a mural canvas.

Just days after the free box was boarded up, the original plywood was transformed into a community art installation.”

courtesy of The Smithsonian Institution

Those around in the early days of the pandemic will remember the free box mural. A cowboy with Tom Hanks’ face, covered in a mask, spraying a large green germ. A quote from Toy Story “this town ain’t big enough for the two of us” written at the top.

“Berkel says part of the beauty of the mural is that it won’t be there forever.

‘The mural will be taken down. The Free Box will be open again. The Town will start moving as it always has. It’s still giving little hope that we’re going to make it through this.’” the newscast reported.

courtesy of The Smithsonian Institution

But that mural was just the beginning. Jump to months later in the pandemic, Berkel, along with fellow local artist Molly Perrault-Daniel created a series of posters, encouraging residents to COVID safely.

“If you remember in 2020, at the very beginning of the pandemic there were some very scary public notice graphics around town ‘stay at home’ ‘where a mask’ they looked very governmental,” says Perrault-Daniel.

She says it was Berkel’s idea to take the energy from the mural, and create posters to soften the blow.

She says the idea was “to replace the scary public announcement posters and have a friendlier approach to these very important messages that need to go out to locals, visitors, to politely ask them to wear a mask, make sure public distancing, all the messages that went out over COVID.”

Perrault-Daniel and Berkel – in collaboration with the Telluride Arts District – created a series of collage posters.

“They’re just funny little animal faces that we slapped on human bodies,” recalls Berkel. “Local animals: elk, beavers, bobcats, fun little western animals. People. Animal people.”

courtesy of The Smithsonian Institution

For months, the artwork hung as a banner across Main Street, on signs along the Spur, as posters around town.

Jump even more years in the future, to now, and those posters are part of Smithsonian’s National Museum of American History archives. The Smithsonian is collecting art and artifacts to preserve and document moments of the COVID-19 pandemic.

“It was spring of 2021, I got a phone call from Ellen Kramer,” Berkel says, “She bought out our posters at the Transfer Warehouse in 2020. She saw that the Smithsonian was collecting COVID art, so she thought it would be fun to donate it and see if she can get her name in the Smithsonian.”

In a description of the art, the Smithsonian comments on the United States’ long history of using posters (humorous at times) for public service announcements, noting Berkel and Perrault-Daniel’s work does just that. Reflecting “both a humorous approach as well as imagery which specifically reflects the community and history of Telluride.”

The posters aren’t on display anywhere (at least currently) but Berkel and Perrault-Daniel say it’s an honor to have their art recognized.

“My grandmother is so pumped. She’s been telling everyone. My family is very proud,” chuckles Berkel, “I don’t have a college degree, but by having this thing archived it gives the feeling that I did something with my education, which was art growing up. It’s like a certificate that I did something.”

Perrault-Daniel, who also works at the Telluride Historical Museum adds it’s not just about them, but the future, and the past.

“It’s a cool reminder that we’re history in the making,” she says, “We’re making history as we go. These posters that we made less than five years ago are part of our active history and people are going to look back on that. And we contributed to it.”

courtesy of The Smithsonian Institution

As for what’s next for the artists?

“I’m just going to keep on making collages,” Berkel says “Cutting things up.”

That way they’ll be ready. For the next global pandemic.

Quilters Retreat to Canyon Country

In a courtyard of the grand hacienda-style Gateway Resort, way out in the Canyon Country of Mesa County a group of women have gathered to vote on the ugliest quilt.

The quilts are small — the size of a large doormat, and they are indeed ugly — or at least garish, clashing, slapdash. But that’s the point of this particular session at the Alegre Quilting Retreat, explains Instructor and art quilter Sue Benner:

“In a lot of my classes, when I teach layered collage [my students] do the background — because I want three layers [in the end] — and they don’t want to cover it up because it’s so beautiful. So I’m purposefully having them make something they don’t like so they don’t mind covering it up,” she says. 

Over the next few days, Benner’s students will work to collage over their ‘ugly’ quilts and come out with something intuitive, surprising, and — perhaps — beautiful. 

Benner is an accomplished and widely exhibited quilt artist. Today, she presides over a classroom piled high with fabric, irons pumping out steam, and women stooped over their piecing. 

Each year at the cusp of spring, quilters from across the country descend on this resort in a distant eddy of Colorado’s Red Rock Country to enjoy off-season prices and devote themselves to studying with some of the biggest names in the art-quilting world. 

Many here are experienced quilters, but not all: Tina Ray is 23. How did she come to Alegre?

“Well, I was trying to learn how to quilt. Because there are not a lot of places to learn it. So I ended up looking for workshops where everyone gathers together, so I could sort of learn through osmosis. And this place was on a list of quilters’ favorite places.” 

Participants at the retreat sign up for a single weeklong intensive course. The day is broken by lunch with a lecture to follow. 

Quilters in Sue Benner’s class at Gateway.

And, for anyone seeking inspiration, trails and pathways beckon, leading up from the resort into the scrubby footlands above the Dolores River. 

The question of what exactly is an art-quilt floats in the air. Delivering a lunch lecture, quilter Lisa Ellis addresses the divisions between craft, fine art, tradition, and modernism. 

“These categorizations make me crazy. Studio Art Quilt Associates, our definition is that if it’s original, if it's from your head, its art. This idea that “Oh it’s block-based so it’s not art” — No! There’s nothing that says you can’t make something block-based and therefore it’s traditional and not worthy.” 

Many bring finished work to share, and hanging in the dining room, it makes a collection as diverse as can be imagined. 

Terrie Mangat of Taos has taught at Alegre in the past, but this year she’s simply attending. 

“The lady that inspired me to make quilts was Miss Earl Clay in Carlisle Kentucky,” Mangat remembers. “I got a degree in Art from the U of Kentucky, and she made all these wacky quilts. She lived near a men’s underwear factory and she would make these quilts but she used these wacky fabrics from the factory. And the fact that she put these weird fabrics together made me want to make quilts. 

Miss Early Clay back in Kentucky worked without a sewing machine, hand-stitching every piece. Says Mangat, for decades she turned to modern technology:

“I thought I would never have the patience to hand-quilt. But now I’m seventy-six and I find that I love to stitch every evening, and my work is now mostly hand-pieced.”

The process of working without a machine can produce a different sort of product — less polished certainly. Organic. 

The retreat occurs beneath the dramatic cliffs of The Palisade Butte in Gateway, CO.

Attendee Barabra Pevny, meanwhile, got into quilting with a close friend after retirement. 

“When we got out of private practice together I told her: ‘I need to still see you every week,’ so I went and started quilting with her in her river home on the Animas [River]” she says.  

Pevny, who briefly came out of retirement in order to pay the Alegre tuition, lived for years in Durango, Colorado before moving to Fort Collins. To be back in this Western Slope Country for such study and practice — Pevny is speechless. 

“I have no words…Boy, you’re gonna bring me to tears,” she says. “I’m a red rock girl. It’s beautiful here.” 

Outside, sun mixes with wind and birdsong. There is just a hint of new growth on the overwintering trees and the day is quiet, almost sacred beneath the soaring mesa cliffs. 

But if you listen through open classroom doors, you can the Alegre quilters as they set about their afternoon

"Off the Record" en Español - El Consulado de Guatemala

Por Luis Tavares

El consulado de Guatemala vendrá a Telluride el 20 y 21 de abril. Sintonice a KOTO “Off the Record" en español para aprender más sobre los requisitos que usted necesitará para obtener un pasaporte y otras cosas. Si conoces a alguien de la comunidad guatemalteca por favor hazle saber que escuche el programa.

New Director of Colorado Creative Industries talks the State of the Arts

Telluride’s Art’s District is one of 30 ‘Creative Districts’ across Colorado — they’re sprinkled from Sterling to Grand Junction, Fort Collins to Ridgway. 

Last fall when Josh Blanchard was named the new Director of Colorado Creative Industries — our state agency for the arts — he embarked on a tour of those districts. 

Those travels brought him to Telluride this week and he stopped by the KOTO station to chat about his new role and his background at the intersection of policy and art.

KOTO News: You come from a background as County Commissioner. Do you have a specific arts background? 

Josh Blanchard: I do have an arts background. I started in arts education — performing arts education. Both my undergrad and graduate degrees are in interdisciplinary performance and humanities. And so I do come from a broad arts background and then specifically have a background in performing arts and in theater. I was the Executive Director of a non-profit theater organization in Summit County for a little over a decade. 

KOTO: What was it like to bring your art background to local government?

JB: Artists tend to be resourceful, be efficient, know how to get things done in  a tight timeframe or with limited resources. Artists also are often at the pulse of what's happening within communities. I took office in January of 2021, and so we were in the midst of the pandemic. And so I think it served me well. 

KOTO: What's it been like to come on this new job at the state level? 

JB: It's been exciting for me to be able to be in service to the entire state, all 64 counties, all of our communities.

We have an amazing state. It's beautiful. So many resources. So many folks want to be here. And so I feel it's a great honor and opportunity, but there's a lot of work that needs to be done to support the role that the creative sector plays throughout the state. 

KOTO: One of your signature programs is collaborating with different Creative Districts in Colorado. Tell me about those. 

JB: There are 30 state-certified Creative Districts in Colorado. Certified Districts really serve their communities in different ways, but are meant to be a toolbox so communities have the resources and the infrastructure to support artists, art nonprofits, and the creative sector. Telluride is one of the designated Districts. So we have the ability, of course, to work with the great folks here. 

KOTO: Your visit to Telluride right now, is that part of a broader tour of the different arts districts? Have you visited others and what's that been like?

JB: I have! Coming into this role in September one of my goals was to visit the different Creative  Districts and Art’s Districts across the state to get a sense of the great stuff that's happening. One of the things that I've really been excited about is to see how each community is different.  The Creative Districts really come from within communities themselves.

When we talk about Telluride, Breckenridge, Salida –– it's the integration of outdoor recreation and the arts [which makes them unique]. When I think about rural communities, Eastern Plain communities, we see the arts and service in similar ways. They allow communities to come together, for artistic experiences — for a concert or for an activity. And then, of course, when we look at Art’s Districts in more metro or urban settings — Santa Fe Arts District, RINO in Denver —  these are really exciting districts that are very much defined geographically within a part of those larger metro areas. Certainly, they have broader reach, but really [they show] how those communities come together, defining arts and culture, industry, and the economic impacts that the arts can have.

KOTO: Well, Josh, thank you so much for joining us. Do you have any closing thoughts on the state of the arts in Colorado? 

JB: In Colorado we value the arts. Study after study shows that Coloradans participate at some of the highest levels in making art and attending art. And it's a part of our DNA. It's a part of who we are. It's a part of what makes this state so great. And Telluride is doing an excellent job. So it's exciting to be here and look at the work that's going on and I'll definitely be back. 

That was the director of Colorado Creative Industries, Josh Blanchard, speaking with KOTO News about his new role with the state.

As Term Winds Down, County Poet Looks Ahead

Joanna Yonder has one more year in her term as San Miguel County’s Poet Laureate. But she’s got some plans for the position before she goes. 

Yonder stopped by K-O-T-O this week to talk about her final year as the public bard.

But first, she shared two poems. One is inspired by the recent passing of a cherished community elder.

Says Yonder: “These things land really heavily in our community. And I just wanted to make space for that. Meanwhile, I know a ton of people are feeling the swelling of Spring. In so many ways, poetry can be a vehicle for all kinds of emotions. So I have a poem about loss and a little poem  about what's to come:”

Hearts go on, they say, and it is true that we're still here. 

Lifeblood moving through our bodies one day and one long 

inhale at a time — we miss you 

and the sky, some days, feels like an unfair 

blue because you are not here to see it

all our lives are fleeting as a season.  What spans 

wider than our earthbound sojourn?

Just the bonds we share.  

When one of our own leaves us, we will still, forever, have 

the impulse that you're here

right at our side.  And we will always

have the notion — still — to turn to you and point towards 

the dawn.  ‘Look at that,’ our souls say to each other. 

‘Look at that.’

_____

‘Flight’

This morning hummingbirds are gathering cobwebs 

and lichens a sure sign 

they are soon to nest.  

New chapters sometimes start with building, sometimes destruction 

The nestlings will emerge sometime out yet, but 

their mother has a thing or two to teach us. 

First: that newness comes from unexpected places, 

often smaller than imagined.  

Secondly, though it may take time, flight is both a birthright and 

a miracle.  

Think of this as you are lifting off, 

think of what is burgeoning,  

the beautiful and boundless thing that is 

about to hatch.

While Yonder was at KOTO, she also discussed her ambitions to create an endowment fund for the Poet Laureate position going forward. Below is an excerpt of that conversation. 

Joanna Yonder: For the first time ever, our Laureate could be supported by a modest stipend. This position was opened up through the county in 2008. So, it's been around for quite some time and it’s evolved quite a bit since it first began. 

I think it's very important to note two things: one, you know, it's 2024 and we're not paying artists in exposure anymore.  And number two, when you expect people to do work for free, or even when you offer them the gift of volunteering for free, that work by nature is only available to the people who have the privilege of time to give to it. And I believe in building frameworks that invite in people who haven't traditionally had time free — people who could free up more time if they were paid to do it, you know?  

So my hope is to seek funding for this position. Not for me, but for whoever's next, for the next Poet Laureate. So whoever you are out there, hopefully you're listening and hopefully you know that this is going to be a paid thing and it's not lavish, but it's something to say: ‘we legitimize your art by paying it. And also we invite you to create this art and make space in your life for it. 

KOTO News: You have done some sort of research into other Poet Laureate positions around the country as part of this process. What did you find out and what did you find out about our position in San Miguel County?

JY: Well, I learned that San Miguel County is one of the first County Poet Laureate-ships in Colorado, which is very cool. Here we are, small but mighty! Way to go, San Miguel County. 

I also learned that it's a very different place to place how this works. But in general poets are funded for their time! And in general, the two to three year term is typical.  There are some really beautiful programs, like the new Durango Poet Laureateship involves what they're calling a ‘Rising Poet Laureate.’ So the position builds in some mentorship which I would love to see happen in our county as well. 

KOTO: You say it's been an incredibly positive experience, being Laureate — which of course — but do you have speculations about what it will be like to be a poet who doesn’t have that calling, doesn’t have that duty to be the public bard?  

JY: I think it will change, because I will have a little more space to dedicate to my own poetry projects. Opening up that space, creatively sounds really cool. And I also know I'll miss it in some ways. It's really been such a special experience. 

That was San Miguel County Poet Laureate, Joanna Yonder, sharing a pair of poems and reflecting on her final year in the position. 

Remembering a Telluride Matriarch

Por Julia Caulfield

Wendy Brooks was a matriarch of Telluride. She was a world traveler, a lover of all people, fierce, a north star, a doer.

“My mother created everywhere she went,” says Dylan Brooks, one of Wendy’s sons. “My mother was first and foremost an advocate for children and working people who are raising children. To her, all the people of the world were one community and they should all be brought together to make art and to love each other and to do something interesting. Don’t be boring.”

Wendy Brooks passed away on March 26th at her home in Troncones, Mexico surrounded by family. She was 84 years old.

Brooks moved to Telluride in 1976. Leaving her three sons, Demian, Darius, and Dylan with their grandmother in New Jersey.

“My mom set off to look for the next place we were going to live. She drove across much of Colorado and hadn’t found her place and was heading towards New Mexico. She was driving past Placerville and a barefoot kid of ten, hitchhiked, flagged her down and asked if she would take him to town,” Dylan remembers. “She didn’t know what that meant, but thought sure, I’ll give this kid a ride. She drove into Telluride, fell in love with the quirkiness of the town and the beauty of it at once. She sent for the three of us and we moved out at the end of August 1976.”

That fall, Dylan remembers they had nowhere to live so they parked their VW van in the Telluride campground. The boys registered in school with the address “site #7, Telluride campground”.

Brooks had a can do spirit, a hard worker until the end. Salli Russell, a friend of Brooks, remembers the beginning of their friendship.

“Telluride was a very matriarchal society. If you wanted something done it was usually a woman that was going to start making that happen,” Russell says. “I was in awe of Wendy and what she had already accomplished when she moved here with three young boys.”

Brooks helped create Telluride’s Medical Center, the freestyle ski team, the Telluride Science Research Center. But, to many, she was most known for creating the Telluride Academy, starting “basically in her backyard” according to Russell.

“A place for children to play and yet, have some kind of freedom to be who they were, and to empower them to be who they wanted to be and who they could be,” says Russell.

Brooks’ belief in and passion for those children, was endless. Elaine Demas is a friend of Brooks and former director of Telluride Academy. She remembers when she started the role, asking Brooks to help make sure she knew how to do everything right.

“And she did it without hesitation. Right back in there. Every day with me. Helping me navigate hundreds of families,” remembers Demas. “She had a remarkable memory. She had every family and child in her head. Never had to looking anything up. If I had a question she could answer it at the drop of a hat. She was so generous with her time and her knowledge.”

Brooks’ legacy of adventure, gumption and joy is what current Telluride Academy executive director Jason Merritt says he hopes to continue.

“As the current stewards of Telluride Academy, I think it renews and reignites our commitment to doing the very best we can to continue to realize her vision and to do so with total humility and earnestness,” says Merritt.

While Brooks touched the lives of thousands of children, at the center of that world were her grandchildren, including Julian Brooks.

“My grandmother, Wendy Brooks, she wasn’t mine. She was everyone’s grandma,” says Julian Brooks. “The amount of people I knew personally that have reached out, is such a small sliver of the 84 years that she impacted lives. It’s incredible that a woman can do that much. Seeing her now, at rest, at peace, knowing that she left a world that was lucky to have her, it’s a beautiful thing.”

There will be a memorial service for Wendy Brooks in Telluride later this summer.

The Telluride Academy is setting up a scholarship in memory of Brooks to support children in the program.

Anyone can honor and celebrate Brooks everyday by living a life of love, creativity, adventure.

Heartbreak Inspires Regional Poetry Project

Imagine, working through heartbreak, up late at night wondering about that person no longer by your side.

I lie motionless in my bed, 

save for the swipe of my finger

hoping to catch a glance of a stranger

 turned to a friend

a friend turned lover

a lover turned back to a stranger

silently waiting for sleep to take me away. 

That's ‘Motionless,’ a poem by Telluridian Mat Zaremba, which is included in ‘Volume III’ of Poems for Ex Lovers, an anthology of anonymous works collected from a community of broken hearted writers flung across mountain towns in the West. 

The editor, compiler, and designer of this latest work is Emma Renly, who is based in the Pacific Northwest and here in the Four Corners region. Renly and Zaremba sat down with KOTO News to chat about this latest volume of Poems for Ex Lovers and the peripatetic community of writers who brought it about.

Emma Renly: So, ‘Volume I’ took place almost entirely in Moab, Utah, and then the second book took place in Telluride! And this is where Matt also came on to the project. 

KOTO: And Mat, was this your first foray into poetry writing? 

Mat Zaremba: Yeah, exactly. Writing these poems where you have heartbreak, or you have these pent up feelings was, for me, a purge: a cathartic letting go of everything that had maybe been pent up and built up. And then just moving forward. It was actually a really good release. It was nice. 

KOTO: Are you writing right now? Have you continued to write poetry? 

MR: No, I'm actually very happy right now. I have a loving girlfriend of almost a year and a half and I've tried to write happy poems, but it's almost like I don't want to lose or purge those feelings that I had when I was writing sad poems. So I kind of want to stay in the moment. I want to stay in the happiness and not lose that feeling.

KOTO: In this third book the community of writers is wider spread than in the first two editions. What ties all of these soul searching people together? 

ER: I think the common thread, other than myself, is that we all come from these very small, mountain, outdoorsy towns. Whether it be Telluride, whether it be Moab, Jackson Hole, Hood River, Bozeman…I think that leads to a lot of different experiences in terms of love and loss. 

We do live in these very extreme towns, and perhaps that also pulls out extreme emotions too. The pendulum swings quite strongly in one direction or the other, and I think like Matt was saying, you're gonna see your ex or boyfriend around, and so I think the emotions are much more up close and you can't ignore them. 

KOTO: Talk about the decision to keep these poems anonymous.

MZ: You're reading the book, it's kind of great. You attach yourself to the poem, you think of your own interactions with other people and feel ‘Oh this poem really resonates with me, even if I don't know who wrote it….’ Because you start thinking about other people — interactions that you've had in the past.

KOTO: For all these heartbroken writers, what's next for them? Is there more heartbreak? Is there a ‘Volume IV?’

ER: I absolutely want to do another book of collective work of anonymous poetry. But no more ex-lovers! This is the third book we've done — we're over it! You mentioned, you know, soul searching and outdoor towns…and I'd love to look more into that question: why do we travel? What is home? Is it a place? Is it a person? Is it a community?

You can order a copy of this latest work, and prior editions, at sockeyepublishing.com or you can check one out at the Moab, Utah, Library.

Telluride Celebrates Hockey State Champions

Por Julia Caulfield

“We are a ski town with a hockey problem,” proclaims Telluride Mayor Teddy Errico from the steps of the San Miguel County Courthouse.

It’s a classic spring day, with skies moving from bluebird to overcast in the blink of an eye, and the Telluride community showed up to celebrate its two hockey state champions with a parade down Main Street.

Telluride High School Students, who play on the Durango Demons Hockey Team and make up half its players, became 4A State Champions after winning 4-2 over Summit, the Lizard Head U12 PeeWee defeated Vail 4-3 in double overtime.

Telluridians young and old line the streets, cheering, as players parade through town, followed by a bright green Zamboni.

Grayson Fertig, Executive Director and coach of the Lizard Head Hockey program, says he couldn’t be more proud. “This is what a wild success looks like for recreation approach to community hockey,” he says.

Fertig is excited to see hockey become part of Telluride’s culture.

“Hockey’s happening in Telluride because people are figuring out what a fun game it is. You can’t even imagine, high fives all around,” he explains looking around the parade crowd. “These kids thrive when they’re working together and that’s hockey.”

Fertig is joined in that sentiment by Jereb Carter, a proud hockey dad.

“It bonds the community even stronger. It’s all about community strength and I think it’s going to encourage a lot of younger kids to come up in the program. These kids are going to have a lifelong bond out of this,” Carter says. “Even if they don’t play starting tomorrow, from here on out they had this moment. Look at all the younger kids in the parade following around their state champions, they’re all smiling, their parents are smiling. Everyone is happy.”

Following the parade, from the steps of the San Miguel County Courthouse, flanked by the Championship teams, Mayor Errico says it’s a good day for hockey, but a great day for Telluride Hockey.

“For a town of our size to compete with some of the big boys is something we can all be very proud of,” he says.

Hockey coach Jesse DiFiori highlights the win isn’t just felt by the teams themselves, but the community as a whole.

“Today’s victory is not just a win for the team. It’s a win for every single one of us. It symbolizes what we can achieve when we come together, united by a common goal and a shared passion,” DiFiori says from the steps. “It’s a reminder that no dream is too big, and no challenge is unsurmountable when we stand as one.”

With spirits high, Mayor Errico speaks into existence what many on Main Street are feeling.

“What I’d like to see, and what I think everyone here would like to see is, someday soon, Telluride competing under its own flag, under the Telluride High School,” Errico exudes.

The season might be over, but by all accounts it’s just the beginning for Telluride hockey.

New Fund Honors Beloved Teacher, Community Member

A new scholarship fund for students at the Ah Haa School for the Arts honors Tami Huntsman (Nov. 1951 — Feb. 2024), a beloved art and special education teacher who long called Telluride home. After speaking with friends, students, and colleagues of Huntsman, KOTO has this profile of the new fund, and the remarkable life which inspired it.

Music is “Chimes,” by Adrianne Lenker.

Telluride Region Plans for an EV Transition

23% of emissions here in southwest San Juan Mountains come from transportation. As Mountain Village, Telluride and San Miguel County as a whole have pledged to slash emissions in the coming years, the transition to Electric Vehicles beckons:

“When we think about how to tackle that in rural and remote communities it’s going to look a lot different from urban communities. Because we are so spread apart, vehicles are still going to be a part of our lives, so the EV readiness plan looks at electric vehicle adoption in our region,” says Kendra Held, Climate Coordinator at EcoAction Partners, a non-profit which organizes and advocates for clean energy across here in the state’s southwestern San Juan mountains. 

The EV readiness plan she references is one of EcoAction’s latest projects: it’s a colorful and engaging 70-page document which acts as a roadmap for Electric Vehicle adoption in the region. Who should pick it up? 

“It is for anyone who is interested in purchasing an electric vehicle. Some of the other plans in Colorado haven't included that, but we felt it was important to include those informational materials in the beginning,” Held says. 

The plan contains information for local governments as well, both on electrifying their own fleets, and analyses of current EV infrastructure and future needs. 

The plan lists some 15 current EV chargers in San Miguel County, far higher than its neighboring Ouray and San Juan Counties — and seemingly ample for the 50 EVs currently registered in the county. But many of those chargers are private, difficult to access, or a bit slow. 

EV adoptees in the area express a mixed experience so far. Martin Owens lives in Telluride and bought a Rivian last year. He loves driving it, he says, but “the big problem is I don’t have a place to charge it overnight. We have a garage but it’s full of bikes and gear. Probably similar to a lot of other folks in Telluride, we can't fit a vehicle in our garage, so we have to search around town trying to find a place to charge it.” 

Owens says he often turns to the chargers at the Silver Jack Parking Garage, located in the core of Telluride’s downtown.

Those, says Owens, “are pretty slow chargers so a lot of times I have to leave [my vehicle] overnight and they charge an overnight fee and an hourly fee. So you kind of get punished for charging overnight which is unfortunate.”

Held says the plan does address the need for additional chargers, but mostly from the perspective of visitors. 

“People who live in town or live nearby, usually those people have charging at their home. They want to make sure they have that available to them, that they’re ready to go in the morning — that sort of thing. I think what we’re experiencing right now and what we’ll be experiencing until we have more public chargers is that visitor gap — where we have people driving to town and wondering where to find chargers,” Held speculates. 

Kris Kwasneiski lives in Placerville, and got an EV two years ago. She commutes, she says, “so I drive from Placerville to Telluride everyday and back, and gas is really expensive. And two years ago it was really up there. So an EV made sense.”

Kwasniewski captured the ample tax incentives and rebate offerings to install a charge in her home, and she works near Silver Park, where she park for the ol’ 9-5.

“I am super lucky because I get to charge right below my office everyday,” she says. “I think town is doing a great job with the transition to EVs, and with providing people places to charge.”

The plan includes information on potential new charger locations, equitable and fair rate structures, and ways to beef up the area’s EV infrastructure.

For Owens, that all can’t come soon enough. With the number of renters in town, and the number of street-parkers, those changes will be critical in making the EV pitch to Town residents. 

“We have to support more overnight and longer term charging for people who street park, which is a lot of people here. And until we see that, I think people are gonna stick to gas,” he says. 

The state as a whole has pledged to transition to 100% electric vehicles by 2050, so eventually it will need every EV convert it can get.

La reñida carrera electoral atrae a una multitud al Caucus Demócrata

Es 9 de marzo. Los demócratas del condado de San Miguel llenan la sala de programas de la Biblioteca Wilkinson, derramándose de vez en cuando por el pasillo. Al ver las masas, muchos se maravillan de la multitud reunida en una hermosa tarde de sábado.

"Quierodar las gracias a todos por estar aquí en un sábado tan bonito. Muchos de mis amigos están aquí en su equipo de esquí, así que gracias por salir de la montaña para venir a apoyar",abre Geneva Shaunette, miembro del Consejo Municipal de Telluride y candidata declarada a Comisionada del Condado. Los demócratas, muchos -sí- con botas de esquí, se reunieron para su caucus de 2024. Este primer paso en el proceso electoral establecerá la papeleta para las primarias del partido del 25 de junio. Pero antes de llegar a la toma de decisiones, los candidatos locales están invitados a hablar.

Galena Gleason se presenta para ocupar el puesto de Kris Holstrom como Comisionada del Condado por el Distrito Tres, que comprende Norwood y el West End. Observando a la multitud y mirando por el estrecho pasillo, o quizás tobogán, en el centro de la sala, Gleason continúa con la metáfora del esquí: "Esto da miedo y es estimulante", dice. No sé si alguien ha esquiado alguna vez en San Joaquín, pero esto es lo que se siente". 

Gleason habla de los valores del Condado: "Lagente del condado de San Miguel tiene una conexión con la tierra y se ha inspirado en la asombrosa belleza de nuestra zona. En mi distrito, me gustaría que la agricultura desempeñara un papel más importante en nuestra economía. Esto creará una sólida columna vertebral económica y permitirá a la gente prosperar al tiempo que devuelve a la tierra."

Gleason no se enfrenta a un contrincante demócrata. Su carrera vendrá en las generales de noviembre, contra el alcalde de Norwood Candy Meehan, que se postula para el asiento del Distrito 3 como independiente. 

En el primer distrito del condado (Telluride y Deep Creek Mesa), Shaunette se enfrenta a la actual comisaria, Anne Brown.

Shaunette presume de su trayectoria en el Ayuntamiento. "Latoma de decisiones en colaboración es más que una palabra de moda", dice Shaunette. "Esun principio que guía mi forma de gobernar. Me centro en dar prioridad a las necesidades de la comunidad, desde encontrar viviendas y opciones de guardería hasta abordar el coste general de la vida en la región. Quiero que todos: desde los inmigrantes a los jubilados, pasando por los recién llegados y las familias generacionales, sepan que sus necesidades importan."

En su discurso, la Comisaria Brown habla de su experiencia como titular. Brown es Comisaria desde mayo del año pasado, cuando fue nombrada tras la dimisión de Hillary Cooper. 

"No te preocupespor el tiempo que he invertido en esto", dice Brown. "No es asunto suyo. Lo que sí les preocupa son las horas que han dedicado el personal remunerado y los cargos electos que han invertido en mi educación y formación. Creo que sería un despilfarro dilapidar esta inversión de la comunidad, cuando francamente creo que estoy haciendo un trabajo sólido."

La conversación rara vez tocó temas de política concreta. Sin embargo, Brown, que vive en Deep Creek Mesa, quiso aclarar las cosas sobre el tema candente de la construcción de viviendas que ha tomado por asalto a la comunidad.

"No estoy en contra de Diamond Ridge. Repito, no estoy en contra de Diamond Ridge. Como ciudadana particular en el momento [de su recalificación]", dice, "insté al BOCC a esperar más información. Lo que digo es sí a un proceso público abierto para decidir el futuro de Diamond Ridge".

Los asistentes hablaron durante casi una hora a favor de ambos candidatos. Muchos empezaron su intervención diciendo cuánto tiempo llevaban viviendo en Telluride. Olivia Lavercombe observó una división en la sala entre un grupo de más edad y más establecido, y un grupo más joven que navega por las presiones de la economía de Telluride. 

Insta al futuro comisario "escucha a ambas partes y sé la voz de la gente que no tiene una vivienda estable. Respeto a la gente que lleva aquí mucho tiempo, y pido que la gente de aquí", dice Lavercombe, señalando a los más jóvenes, "también reciba apoyo, porque necesitamos vivienda. Necesitamos apoyo más allá de la conversación". 

La Presidenta del Partido, Eleni Constantine, señala que la participación demuestra el alto nivel de compromiso y preocupación de los votantes, incluso con una única contienda, la que enfrenta a Shaunette y Brown.

"Es un caucus muy, muy concurrido. Creo que el único caucus similar al que he asistido fue cuando Bernie Sanders y Hillary Clinton competían por la candidatura presidencial", afirma.

Tras las intervenciones, los asistentes votan a los delegados que les representarán. Para figurar en la papeleta, un candidato debe recibir el apoyo de al menos el 30% del total de delegados. Tanto Brown como Shaunette superan ese umbral. Según el Partido Demócrata del Condado de San Miguel, Brown recibió 16 votos. Shaunette recibió 13.

Telluride se solidariza con Palestina

Por Julia Caulfield

Es una mañana de sábado ventosa, con el viento azotando el cañón.

Una treintena de telluridanos, jóvenes y mayores, permanecen frente al Palacio de Justicia, cantando, compartiendo historias, mostrando su apoyo al pueblo de Palestina.

"Tenemos que conectar con nuestra humanidad porque se trata de una cuestión de derechos humanos", afirma Tabassum Siddiqui, una de las organizadoras de la marcha. "Están pasandohambre. Se les aterroriza. Este es el acto y la función del sionismo. Este es el acto y la función del colonialismo de los colonos blancos. Es la supremacía blanca. Esto es capitalismo racial. Si crees que esto tiene algo que ver con el judaísmo, en absoluto".

Telluride se sumó al Día Internacional de la Solidaridad, en el que millones de personas protestaron en todo el mundo para apoyar a los palestinos y a los habitantes de Gaza.

Lauren Norton, otra de las organizadoras, afirma que es importante que Telluride mire más allá de sus montañas.

"A veces sentimos que estamos separados del resto del mundo en nuestra caja cañón. Podemos encerrarnos y mirar mucho hacia dentro, lo cual está muy bien", dice. "Pero hay momentos en los que tenemos que levantarnos y decir que formamos parte de un sistema mayor, del mundo en general, que todos estamos conectados. Y tenemos que formar parte de esto tanto como los demás".

Aunque la marcha se centra en los bombardeos en Palestina, Siddiqui, y muchos de los miembros que se reúnen, establecen conexiones con otras partes del mundo.

"Haití está bajo la ocupación de este tipo de sistema. En todos los países posibles que se te ocurran", dice Siddiqui. "En el Congo, en Sudán, en Yemen, en Irak, en todas partes".

"Mi abuelo escapó de Alemania y del genocidio de allí. Mi abuela dejó una dictadura en Chile, respaldada por Estados Unidos y el imperialismo estadounidense", subraya un manifestante. "El cambio puede producirse. La gente lucha por ello todo el tiempo. Es la gente más desfavorecida la que lucha siempre por ello, y la gente más privilegiada la que lo ignora, siempre. Lo llevamos en los huesos. Está en nuestra sangre. Y si no lo sientes, has perdido tu alma. Los indígenas hablan de la pérdida del alma. Has perdido tu alma. Necesitamos cambiar el mundo", dice, "es posible. Yo sé, porque vive en mi sangre. En mi sangre, la guerra".

A lo largo de la marcha, los manifestantes subrayan la importancia de la conexión y la humanidad compartida con los habitantes de Gaza.

"A veces siento que estoy alejado de muchas de las cosas que ocurren, aunque las veamos en Internet todo el tiempo. Incluso con pequeños actos de protesta y haciendo oír nuestra voz", afirma Ian McMullen, manifestante. "Defender a personas que están al otro lado del mundo, a las que ni siquiera conocemos, es como establecer una conexión humana más profunda".

Es una marcha pequeña, pero eso no desanima a los reunidos. Para Siddiqui es un punto de partida.

"Estamos aquí porque queremos construir un mundo diferente para nosotros. No queremos un mundo de sufrimiento. No queremos un mundo de opresión", afirma Siddiqui. "Ese no es el mundo en el que quiero vivir. Ese no es el mundo que quiero para nuestros jóvenes".

Manifestantes marchan por Main Street con pancartas que dicen "Financiemos las comunidades, no el genocidio", "Estoy con Palestina". Los organizadores aún no tienen previsto otro acto, pero dicen que habrá más.

La comunidad crece en torno a una gélida zambullida

Es la mañana siguiente a una tormenta en Telluride. El cielo sigue siendo de un azul tenue en las primeras horas. Los primeros rayos de sol en las laderas occidentales aún no han descendido hasta Town Park. Y aquí abajo, junto al río, aún está oscuro. El aire es gélido. No es el tipo de día en el que uno iría naturalmente a nadar.

Pero reunidos en las rocosas y heladas orillas del San Miguel, una docena de personas se desnudan para hacer precisamente eso.

Con un grito ahogado y una mueca de dolor, cada una de estas zambullidoras polares se agacha en el caudaloso San Miguel para sumergirse durante tres minutos. Alex Ward emerge, empapada, abrazada a su toalla.

"Me siento con energía", dice. "Y fría. Siento que empiezo a sentirme cada vez mejor. He estado de baja una semana y media o semana y media, y por eso hoy hacía un poco más de frío."

Ward es uno de los primeros miembros de este grupo de zambullida polar, que ha crecido a lo largo del invierno hasta convertirse en una docena de asiduos que se reúnen todos los martes y jueves a las 8 de la mañana en punto. Ashley Shupp también fue una de las primeras suscriptoras del movimiento de zambullida polar de Telluride. 

Dice que su inspiración "fue en realidad mi amiga Lina. Vive aquí y lo hacía. Su marido lo hacía durante 10 o 15 minutos en verano. Y empecé a hacerlo, y me encantó, y luego estas chicas empezaron a unirse a mí".

Aunque en un principio era una práctica veraniega entre dos o tres amigos, Lauren Ross afirma que, a medida que bajaron las temperaturas en noviembre y diciembre pasados, ella y sus compañeros de zambullida empezaron a abrazar el frío.

"Y se volvió adictivo, y se convirtió en esto". dice Ross, mirando a la multitud. "Esuna gran comunidad de personas que se reúnen de forma positiva y sin prejuicios".

La natación en aguas frías tiene una rica tradición en los países nórdicos y en toda Europa. Algunos la practican como ejercicio diario para aumentar el vigor y el ánimo. Sutton Shuler empezó a zambullirse este invierno por invitación de un amigo.

"Al principio da miedo, pero luego es una de las cosas más estimulantes quehe hecho nunca", dice. "Me encanta. Soy totalmente adicta, y quién hubiera pensado que una rutina de tres o cuatro minutos podría tener un impacto en todo tu día."

¿Esos impactos?

"Aumento del ánimo, del metabolismo, de la energía...", enumera Shuyler. "Y sinceramente, ¡esta comunidad increíble! Gente que no conocía hasta que nos pusimos todos semidesnudos en el río. Animo a todo el que esté interesado a que venga y lo pruebe. No tienes que hacer tres minutos o cinco minutos, pero creo que venir y estar aquí y ser vulnerable y estar nervioso es realmente importante para todos nosotros."

Con la misma rapidez con la que llegaron, los zambullidores empiezan a recoger: meten los pies en las zapatillas y se marchan a pasar el día con los ojos brillantes y las mejillas sonrosadas. El cálido amarillo del sol naciente se desliza por la calle principal hacia el parque de la ciudad.

Reflexiones sobre una posible ciudad hermana

Sonido de archivo.

El DJ Jimmy Jazz de KOTO, Jim Berkowitz, entrevistó a Ben Jaffe, director creativo y tubista de la New Orleans Preservation Hall Jazz Band antes de la actuación de la banda en el Festival de Jazz de Telluride 2021. 

El Preservation Hall es un célebre local de jazz del Barrio Francés de Nueva Orleans, y Jaffe es uno de las docenas de artistas musicales, entre los que figuran Trombone Shorty, Etta James, Mavis Staples, etc., que han actuado tanto en el Festival de Jazz de Nueva Orleans como en el de Telluride.

"Para mí y para mucha gente de Telluride, la música es muy cercana", reflexiona Steve Gumble, productor del Telluride Jazz Fest y del Telluride Blues and Brews. 

"Lasbandas de metal, el funk, los Meters en el [Festival] de Jazz, todo eso... todo tiene que ver con la música y el Festival de Jazz de Nueva Orleans es probablemente el festival más antiguo y longevo y, ya sabes, allí es donde fuimos: fuimos a Nueva Orleans al Festival de Jazz y esa música resuena en mí y parece resonar en la gente de Telluride", continúa Gumble. 

El amor por los festivales y el aprecio por la música de tradición jazzística son sólo uno de los muchos rasgos culturales que comparten la extensa ciudad del pantano de Nueva Orleans y nuestra pequeña ciudad de Telluride.

Con motivo del Mardi Gras, empecé a preguntar a un puñado de habitantes de Tellurid con vínculos con Nueva Orleans qué opinaban de la afinidad de nuestra ciudad con el "Big Easy". ¿Podría ser Nueva Orleans una especie de ciudad hermana? 

"Rasca entre los suelos empapados de cerveza y las cuentas y los huracanes y, ya sabes" , dice Gumble, "creo que hay una conexión cultural, una conexión culinaria y, definitivamente, una conexión musical" .

MarK Izard, residente en Telluride desde hace mucho tiempo, ha estado en 31 festivales de jazz de Nueva Orleans con su esposa Janet y es el DJ responsable del programa "New Orleans Road Trip" de KOTO. Señala que muchos restauradores de Telluride nacieron en Nueva Orleans. Además, comparten el valor de la conservación histórica. Pero, según Izard, todo se reduce a un medio de expresión personal: 

"Puedes ser quien quieras ser", dice Izard. "Puedesponerte el disfraz que quieras. Nos gusta disfrazarnosen Telluride y nos gusta disfrazarnos en Nueva Orleans; y no es sólo disfrazarte, es [el hecho de que] si eliges actuar de cierta manera o tener cierto aspecto o ciertos valores, estás abierto a expresarlos."

Izard continúa: "Enrealidad, se trata más bien de experimentar la vida; de intentar llevarlo todo al máximo".

Katherine Bonnaeu, organizadora de bodas y empresaria creativa que vive en Telluride, creció visitando Nueva Orleans y trabajó durante más de una década en el equipo de producción del New Orleans Jazz Fest. Empezó allí en 2006. "Fue un año muy duro para formar parte de su equipo de producción a causa del Katrina", dice Bonnaeu.

Recuerda la ciudad devastada, reconstruyéndose lenta y dolorosamente, y aún reuniéndose para su amado Festival de Jazz. "Fue una experiencia increíble estar en el festival, ¡por el hecho de que ocurriera! Bruce Springsteen reunió a una banda increíble y juro que durante la actuación fue tan potente y emotivo que no creo que hubiera ni una sola cara seca entre el público",recuerda Bonneau. 

Al reflexionar sobre sus frecuentes visitas, Bonneau señala las diferencias. "Vivimos en una burbuja aquí en Telluride", dice Bonnaeu, "y eso me parece una gran diferencia. A Nueva Orleans intento ir al menos una o dos veces al año, sólo para tener mi dosis de cultura, ya sea comida o simplemente estar rodeada de diferentes grupos de personas. Y tengo muchos amigos y familiares allí. Eso me hace volver". 

Camilla Choa se trasladó a Telluride poco después de licenciarse en Tulane, y recuerda que quedó encantada con la ciudad cuando se matriculó por primera vez en la Universidad. 

"Sucultura", dice Choa, "es realmente un crisol de culturas. Y cuando llegas a Nueva Orleans, puedes sentir la energía, esa energía antigua e inquietante. Sentí que estaba en una ciudad mucho más antigua, sabia y grande que yo. Fue una lección de humildad".

Para Choa, ¿una diferencia destacada entre las dos comunidades? 

"Sinceramente, la disparidad de riqueza entre Telluride y Nueva Orleans es muy evidente", afirma.

Izard también se dio cuenta de ello. A medida que Telluride se ha enriquecido, su cultura se ha alejado de la expresividad abierta del estilo de vida de la "Big Easy". 

"A medida queha entrado dinero", observa, "no tenemos tantos personajes únicos e interesantes como solíamos tener... pero sigue ahí".

En este sentido, Choa reflexiona sobre la posibilidad de que Telluride aprenda de Nueva Orleans y"adopte más formas de celebración. Y eventos comunitarios que incluyan a todo el mundo, sea cual sea su nivel impositivo".

Pero a pesar de todo lo que Telluride puede parecer un lugar cambiante, difícil e insostenible para vivir, Steve Gumble dice que todavía hay un trasfondo de Nueva Orleans. 

"Si miras más allá de las tensiones miopes a corto plazo de vivir en una pequeña comunidad de montaña y de la política, y de la falta de vivienda, y de todas esas cosas que crean tensión... superas todo eso y sigue habiendo realmente un denominador común de, ya sabes, el gran ambiente fácil", dice.

Pat Bailey, pastor de Christ Church desde hace muchos años, se jubila

Pat Bailey ha sido pastor de la Iglesia de Cristo aquí en Telluride durante los últimos 15 años. Este invierno, anunció que el Domingo de Pascua sería su último al frente de la congregación. 

Bailey se detuvo a charlar con Gavin McGough de KOTO; tocan en sus años como pastor, su fondo espiritual, y su tiempo de trabajo como capellán en el ejército. Bailey comienza recordando la primera vez que vino a Telluride, el día en que él y su esposa se mudaron.

Pat Bailey: Yo todavía estaba en el ejército como capellán. Vivíamos en Alaska, en Fort Richardson, así que volamos, alquilamos un coche en Durango y fuimos hasta allí. Era octubre. La anécdota que cuento a menudo es que, mientras conducíamos, nos detuvimos en Lizard Head Pass, nos bajamos y Deb y yo estábamos llorando. Era tan hermoso. Así que nuestra primera impresión de esta región y de Telluride fue positiva y ha sido positiva desde entonces. 

Gavin McGough: Así que has estado trabajando en el ejército, ¿cómo encontraste Telluride? ¿Cómo llegaste a Colorado y cómo fue la entrevista? 

PB: En realidad, yo estaba en Irak en ese momento. Así que estaba en una tienda telefónica llena de soldados hablando con sus amantes ¡y yo haciendo una entrevista de trabajo para una iglesia para ser pastor! En ese momento ellos [Christ Church] ya llevaban un año y medio en el proceso de búsqueda, y todavía faltaba un año más o menos para que yo me retirara del ejército. Así que dijeron que no podían esperar tanto, ¿sabes?

Cuando regresé [de Irak], empecé a presentar solicitudes en distintas iglesias mientras estaba en Alaska, y vi que este puesto seguía vacante. Así que les llamé y me invitaron. Deb y yo fuimos a entrevistarnos. Son una congregación mucho más progresista y yo soy un ministro muy progresista e inclusivo. Así que ha sido un gran ajuste para.

GM: ¿Podría hablar un poco más sobre eso? La comunidad eclesiástica y esta tradición de inclusión. 

PB: Ya sabes, no estamos en contra de nadie. Estamos a favor de la gente, ya sabes, y mucha de nuestra gente creció en lugares muy conservadores como yo. Muchos de ellos habían renunciado a la religión y descubrieron que en nuestra comunidad podían tener una conversación, y nadie les iba a decir exactamente cómo tienen que pensar o hacer o ser. Así que encontraron un lugar donde revigorizar su vida espiritual. 

GM: En ese sentido, háblame de tu trasfondo espiritual.

PB: Me involucré con la comunidad cristiana en España. Estuve en las Fuerzas Aéreas antes que en el ejército. Y formé parte de un centro de militares cristianos, pero era muy fundamentalista. Era muy evangélico y también pentecostal, pero me ofreció un nuevo... un nuevo tipo de visión de la fe y una nueva entrega de mí mismo.

Por aquel entonces, Bailey sufrió una lesión durante un entrenamiento que le apartó de la carrera militar. Mientras tanto, recuerda:

Fui a Alemania y había un conjunto de libros que un capellán católico había dejado un par de años antes, y no habían podido ponerse en contacto con ellos ni nada. Me dijeron: 'si alguien quiere estos libros, puede quedárselos'. Así que me llevé todos los libros a casa. Eran todos los grandes clásicos de la espiritualidad cristiana. San Juan de la Cruz; Teresa de Ávila; Thomas Merton. Era increíble. Y, ya sabes, yo estaba en una especie de lugar funky debido a mis lesiones y todo ese tipo de cosas.

Aquellos textos realmente me tranquilizaron, pues me dijeron que esto formaba parte del camino espiritual que a menudo parte de una herida o de un dolor. Y a partir de ahí empecé a estudiar a los místicos cristianos y a los maestros espirituales cristianos. Y fue entonces cuando me dediqué a obtener más títulos, postgrados relacionados con esas cosas.

GM: Y una vez que fue capellán del ejército, ¿cómo fue eso? ¿Cómo era ese trabajo?

PB: Realmente sentí un llamado a eso y realmente, - pensé que era un gran ministerio. El ministerio de capellán es sobre todo un ministerio de presencia. Es simplemente estar donde están los soldados, estar dispuesto a compartir sus dificultades y compartir el peligro, y estar presente para ellos. Y ese es mi sentido de cómo Dios está presente; ya sabes, sin intervenir. 

GM: Así que para la gente que está escuchando esto y diciendo: "Oh, no, Pat se va, ¿qué puedes decirles; lo que te espera? 

PB: Tengo que alejarme de la iglesia durante un tiempo, porque tenemos que - la siguiente persona necesita una oportunidad para establecerse sin el viejo dando vueltas, ¿sabes? Pero con el tiempo podré volver y, desde luego, seguiremos participando en la comunidad eclesiástica de aquí.

¡Y vamos a estar en Rico! Tengo una casa allí desde hace 14 años, y es un lugar acogedor para que Deb y yo nos establezcamos, así que estoy deseando que llegue. 

Era Pat Bailey, reflexionando sobre su vida espiritual y su carrera. El último día que Bailey dejará la Iglesia de Cristo de Telluride será el 31 de marzo, Domingo de Pascua.

Un par de esquís para Hilaree

En la acera de enfrente de la estación de la telecabina, en Oak Street Plaza, me encuentro con Grayden Stanley O'Neill junto a una taquilla de esquí para echar un vistazo a su último equipo. Son un par de Blizzard lanzadas el otoño pasado, que muestran un brillo rosa y azul con los tonos moteados de la acuarela. En las puntas, asoma el pico de una montaña.

"No estoy seguro al 100% de cuál es la montaña", dice O'Neill, "pero creo que es la montaña Lhotse, que es la cuarta más alta del mundo, porque hay un couloir muy obvio a través de su cima en uno de los esquís".

La aclamada esquiadora de montaña Hilaree Nelson, y su compañero Jim Morrison completaron el primer descenso en esquí de ese couloir en 2018. Para muchos, la montaña es sinónimo de Nelson y su legado. 

"Creo que fue uno de sus mayores hitos y uno de sus momentos más felices", dice O'Neill. 

Nelson, la madre de O'Neill, murió en septiembre de 2022 mientras esquiaba en el monte Manaslu, en Nepal. Los esquís Blizzard son un homenaje a Nelson y un monumento conmemorativo. En el esquí de la derecha, un solitario aúlla en el aire de la montaña. 

O'Neill señala hacia abajo, hacia las puntas de los esquís, donde hay dos lobeznos acurrucados, mirando juguetones hacia la pendiente. 

"Me parece que nos representarían a mí y a mi hermano. O podría representar su pasión por las montañas. Los colores -el rojo- podrían ser su pasión por las montañas". 

Los esquís han causado sensación en Telluride, y aunque se trata de una edición muy limitada, con menos de 200 unidades, bastantes de esos pares han llegado al Cañón Box, el hogar de Nelson. 

"Cuando volví a casa para las vacaciones de invierno, vi que la mayoría de la gente que la conocía esquiaba en ellos, y me pareció genial y muy afortunada de formar parte de ello", dice Maia Coe, que creció en Telluride y ahora estudia -y esquía- en Bozeman, Montana. 

Muchos de los habitantes de Telluride que buscaban una pareja conocían personalmente a Hilaree, ya fuera como amiga íntima o como alguien de la ciudad que era una inspiración: encarnaba el espíritu de la vida en la montaña. Nelson era amigo de la familia de Coe cuando ella crecía, pero, dice, Hilaree también era simplemente Hilaree. 

"Es la mujer más increíble de la historia, ¡por supuesto! Y mi madre me contaba todas esas historias sobre ella, y veíamos todas esas películas sobre ella, y yo también me sentía muy afortunada de conocerla", dice Coe. 

Este sentimiento resonó en muchas de las personas con las que hablé sobre los esquís y el legado de Nelson. Fern Garber es una lugareña de Telluride que conocía a Nelson por la ciudad y que oyó hablar de los esquís por primera vez gracias a su trabajo en Jagged Edge. 

"Siendo una esquiadora, y estando en las montañas, y teniendo esos esquís bajo mis pies, me hace sentir como si la tuviera conmigo" , reflexiona Garber. "Además, como mujer, poder representar lo increíble que era como atleta y lo mucho que se esforzaba y lo que fue capaz de lograr durante su carrera, me enorgullece representarla y continuar con esa parte de su legado".

Las acuarelas que adornan los esquís de edición limitada son obra de Malia Reeves, pintora y esquiadora de Taos, Nuevo México. No le sorprendió oír que muchos se sentían identificados con el poder femenino que encierran los cielos y el legado de Hilaree.

"Como patrullera de esquí profesional a tiempo completo en un espacio oscuro dominado por los hombres, pienso todo el tiempo en las mujeres que han abierto ese camino antes que yo, y Hilaree es sin duda una de ellas. Algunas de ellas son mujeres de mi propia vida, como mi madre, que fue patrullera de esquí en los años 80, y otras son mujeres como Hilaree, que han demostrado no sólo a mí, sino a todo el mundo, lo que es posible", afirma Reeves.

Como parte del proyecto también se publicó un libro ilustrado en honor a Nelson titulado Leader of the Pack. En colaboración con Reeves, la artista Soleil Patterson y la escritora Kimberly Beekman, todos los beneficios de la venta del libro y de los propios esquís se destinan al Hilaree Nelson Fund, creado por Blizzard para financiar proyectos de empoderamiento de la mujer en las actividades al aire libre. 

Reeves dice que al principio diseñó los esquís sólo con el lobo solitario, pero le pareció demasiado austero: demasiado solitario para encajar en la historia de Nelson. Añadió una manada de lobos, y en el diseño final dice

"Decidimos poner dos lobeznos a lomos de los esquís, que en cierto modo representan a su familia y a sus dos hijos, pero también a todos los que seguimos bajo su liderazgo".
Grayden O'Neill, de vuelta en Oak Street Plaza, opinaba lo mismo: los esquís le daban una sensación de resonancia, de proximidad a su madre. 

"Es una especie de recuerdo que se encierra en la gente que la conocía y la quería. Además, cuando están en la montaña esquiando es muy bonito tener un recuerdo de ella e imaginar que estás esquiando con ella."

En Telluride, y laderas más allá, esos recuerdos de Nelson siguen vivos y ardiendo.