Hippies and Cowboys
Late Thursday afternoon (July 6), I joined Sally, Liza and Emma on an excursion to see the Rainbow people. This was the 35th gathering of the Rainbow Family: 15,000-20,000 hippies in the forest north of Steamboat. You can learn about them at www.welcomehome.com/rainbow.html. Their arrival was a subject of much consternation amongst the Steamboat townspeople, but in the end their presence in town was not disturbing -- just added some different color to the tourist influx. We did hear stories of clashes with the Forest Service, perhaps due to overzealous enforcement, and we saw many police cars on our drive up and back.
We took the same road as when Sally, Mark and I went to Mad Creek, but continued much further up, around Hahn's Peak and along a series of dirt forest roads. The Rainbow people were encamped near the edge of the Mt. Zirkle wilderness. Their cars lined both sides of the forest road for quite a distance. Despite the interest of seeing people with dreadlocks and tie-dye shirts, we became caught up in looking at the license plates -- we saw every state except Vermont, Delaware, Hawaii and Alaska, and also saw several Canadian provinces. After driving to the wilderness boundary to confirm we'd reached the center of the gathering, we returned and parked the car and walked into the meadow where all the activity was. It was a blast from the past. The '60's live! The next day was to be the last day of the gathering, and many people were already leaving, so we were swimming upstream. It reminded me of the scene in Fiddler on the Roof where they must abandon the town, since people were pushing and pulling all sorts of wheelbarrows and wagons loaded with their camping equipment along the dirt path.
Many people wished us "Welcome Home" as we passed, as did the big banner at the "entrance" to the gathering (a canopy over the trail). Most Rainbow people picked up on the fact that we were gawkers rather than participants (as Sally pointed out, we were the freaks there), but were either friendly or ignored us. Despite the concerns about that many people camping in one area and the common towny perception that the Rainbow people were dirty, we saw absolutely no litter, and did see several signs admonishing respect for the environment. The 4 of us regretted that we had not joined Mark and others who came up on July 4 to witness the entire group of thousands holding hands and chanting Om in the high mountain meadow. As we drove away, a long hair declared several times that he was "loving you". The phrase became our standard parting salute for the next few days.
My half-hearted determination to leave the next day was thwarted by a combination of electronics woes on Friday and Saturday, culminating in the loss of all my pictures on the Treo. So I won't be posting the Russian onion town hall building or the live bait vending machine from Ohio. I still hope to someday figure out how to add pictures, however.
My half-hearted determination to leave Saturday was thwarted by grief over the Treo pictures combined with the fact it was raining. Sunday it still was raining, but I decided to leave anyway -- it had been a full month since I arrived in Colorado! So I went back up Rabbit Ears Pass (the way I had come from Denver), and turned north to Walden.
The weather forecast had seemed to indicate the rain would back off to sprinkles, but instead it became stronger -- nearly blinding at points. Sally had told me this route was pretty, but Mark dryly added "if you can see the mountains". I couldn't, except for one impressive glimpse of a snow covered peak where the clouds had temporarily lifted a bit. Instead, I saw lots of range land. I am in serious cow territory -- have seen several signs advising that I eat beef. With the skies pouring, I stopped for lunch at the River Rock Cafe in the Antler Inn at Walden. It had a beautiful interior with walls variously consisting of river rock, logs, and plaster above wainscot. Down the middle of the dining room were several columns made of huge cedar trunks turned upside down, so that they flared near the ceiling into the rippling circumference created by the roots. The trunks stood on square pedestals of river rock. In the bar, there was a huge chandelier made of antlers. Very western chic. Lunch was a delicious chicken fried steak. Beef. It's what's for dinner.
North of Walden the road splits to the right and to the left around a mountain. I had thought of going left so I could take a scenic route through the mountains, but it looked like I would only see clouds, so I took the more direct route to Laramie to the right. The road wound through the Medicine Bow National Forest, and then straightened out as it entered the edge of the great northern plains. It stopped raining, but stayed thickly overcast.
Laramie appears to be doing well -- the historic downtown is lined with boutiques rather than boarded up shops. I am writing this in a fine Internet cafe (The Grounds), perhaps due to the University of Wyoming being here. It is clear that Wyoming considers itself THE cowboy state and the apotheosis of the West. The logo of a cowboy on a bucking bronco was on the Welcome to Wyoming sign (along with Devil's Tower). The news hour featured a story on Wyoming's very fine Bighorn Sheep herd, and on the fact Wyoming is one of only 5 states where Bush's favorable rating is above 50%, with the majority of the state supporting the war in Iraq. People on the street attributed this to the Western ethic here. One of the major advertisements was for a rodeo, and one of the cable channels was carrying coverage of a rodeo.
So, buckaroos, I'm going to go ride the range. Loving you.
We took the same road as when Sally, Mark and I went to Mad Creek, but continued much further up, around Hahn's Peak and along a series of dirt forest roads. The Rainbow people were encamped near the edge of the Mt. Zirkle wilderness. Their cars lined both sides of the forest road for quite a distance. Despite the interest of seeing people with dreadlocks and tie-dye shirts, we became caught up in looking at the license plates -- we saw every state except Vermont, Delaware, Hawaii and Alaska, and also saw several Canadian provinces. After driving to the wilderness boundary to confirm we'd reached the center of the gathering, we returned and parked the car and walked into the meadow where all the activity was. It was a blast from the past. The '60's live! The next day was to be the last day of the gathering, and many people were already leaving, so we were swimming upstream. It reminded me of the scene in Fiddler on the Roof where they must abandon the town, since people were pushing and pulling all sorts of wheelbarrows and wagons loaded with their camping equipment along the dirt path.
Many people wished us "Welcome Home" as we passed, as did the big banner at the "entrance" to the gathering (a canopy over the trail). Most Rainbow people picked up on the fact that we were gawkers rather than participants (as Sally pointed out, we were the freaks there), but were either friendly or ignored us. Despite the concerns about that many people camping in one area and the common towny perception that the Rainbow people were dirty, we saw absolutely no litter, and did see several signs admonishing respect for the environment. The 4 of us regretted that we had not joined Mark and others who came up on July 4 to witness the entire group of thousands holding hands and chanting Om in the high mountain meadow. As we drove away, a long hair declared several times that he was "loving you". The phrase became our standard parting salute for the next few days.
My half-hearted determination to leave the next day was thwarted by a combination of electronics woes on Friday and Saturday, culminating in the loss of all my pictures on the Treo. So I won't be posting the Russian onion town hall building or the live bait vending machine from Ohio. I still hope to someday figure out how to add pictures, however.
My half-hearted determination to leave Saturday was thwarted by grief over the Treo pictures combined with the fact it was raining. Sunday it still was raining, but I decided to leave anyway -- it had been a full month since I arrived in Colorado! So I went back up Rabbit Ears Pass (the way I had come from Denver), and turned north to Walden.
The weather forecast had seemed to indicate the rain would back off to sprinkles, but instead it became stronger -- nearly blinding at points. Sally had told me this route was pretty, but Mark dryly added "if you can see the mountains". I couldn't, except for one impressive glimpse of a snow covered peak where the clouds had temporarily lifted a bit. Instead, I saw lots of range land. I am in serious cow territory -- have seen several signs advising that I eat beef. With the skies pouring, I stopped for lunch at the River Rock Cafe in the Antler Inn at Walden. It had a beautiful interior with walls variously consisting of river rock, logs, and plaster above wainscot. Down the middle of the dining room were several columns made of huge cedar trunks turned upside down, so that they flared near the ceiling into the rippling circumference created by the roots. The trunks stood on square pedestals of river rock. In the bar, there was a huge chandelier made of antlers. Very western chic. Lunch was a delicious chicken fried steak. Beef. It's what's for dinner.
North of Walden the road splits to the right and to the left around a mountain. I had thought of going left so I could take a scenic route through the mountains, but it looked like I would only see clouds, so I took the more direct route to Laramie to the right. The road wound through the Medicine Bow National Forest, and then straightened out as it entered the edge of the great northern plains. It stopped raining, but stayed thickly overcast.
Laramie appears to be doing well -- the historic downtown is lined with boutiques rather than boarded up shops. I am writing this in a fine Internet cafe (The Grounds), perhaps due to the University of Wyoming being here. It is clear that Wyoming considers itself THE cowboy state and the apotheosis of the West. The logo of a cowboy on a bucking bronco was on the Welcome to Wyoming sign (along with Devil's Tower). The news hour featured a story on Wyoming's very fine Bighorn Sheep herd, and on the fact Wyoming is one of only 5 states where Bush's favorable rating is above 50%, with the majority of the state supporting the war in Iraq. People on the street attributed this to the Western ethic here. One of the major advertisements was for a rodeo, and one of the cable channels was carrying coverage of a rodeo.
So, buckaroos, I'm going to go ride the range. Loving you.
posted by Annventurer | 10:10 AM
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Historical Note: The Rainbow People are of the genus Passium Thebongus, a branch of an ancient tribe that migrated from Central Asia to North America on boats made of hemp. (The validity of the theory having been recently demonstrated by the famous explorer Woody Harrelson during his epic voyage on “Kon-Puffy”). Once feared to be on the verge of extinction after decades of hunting by conservatives, the Rainbow People have made a remarkable comeback in recent years and may soon be removed from the protected list. Best known for their colorful plumage and unique gait, the Rainbow People are generally docile, although caution should be used when approaching them during the mating season.
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