12/01/2023
I am fond of saying, "The journey begins at the end of the road."
Crestone is a magical place. Unparalleled in its raw, powerful beauty, stark and sharp and awe inspiring in so many ways. I have never seen or experienced anything like it in my 48 years on the planet. It has this way of drawing you in, making you love it, and then making you think you are special for getting to be here. And we are, maybe not special, but beyond fortunate, for our time here is unique, and real, and only so many people in this whole wide world will get to experience a life of this caliber.
We are fortunate for that, if nothing else.
There is a history here, which only a few surviving residents can remember, and it reveals a sentiment that has so much to do with our current political system, and the structures that purport to manage and care for our community.
And there is a divide here, perpetuated by the assumption of boundaries between which one household resides and subjects itself to governance and authority, or rejects said authority, and hollers injustice and unfairness!
I am attaching a link to a series of interviews we conducted in the summer of 2019, pre Covid, in which we sought out a number of old timers, born and raised in Crestone, Colorado. We also interviewed a number of Baca residents, who came here between the 1970's and early 2000's, during the first influx of modern day homesteaders and urban refugees from all over the country, and beyond.
These stories expose the root of this perceived divide between what some call Crestone, and what some call The Baca. The beginning of the POA, a facade of development, with spray painted roads, a still existent air strip in the middle of a high alpine desert, rodeo clowns walking their monkeys in North Crestone Creek, the rotting, asbestos co**se of the White Eagle, security gates and gourmet chefs and barred access, and so on and so on. There was also a rush of young hippies into the town itself, though few enough to be counted on two hands, who were either welcomed or not by a generation of hard living, winter bearing old timers.
These stories also reveal a deep and profound connection between the people who call this place home, regardless of which side of which boundary any of us live on. A connection that has stood the test of time, and shown that this community is made up of strong, caring, people, who will lay it all down on the table and show up for each other in the darkest and coldest of times, in the hardest and saddest of times, carrying each others bodies to the pyre, throwing handfuls of dust on each others hand dug graves, feeding each other, singing to each other, forgiving each other.
And of course, there is so much laughter and dreaming, and climbing and building. I have never seen a people who have loved to dance like we can and do in C Town. Shaking so many roofs, rattling windows, pounding the earth with our feet and grooves and sweat and joy, it's been one of the things that has helped us all survive here, Celebration and Music and Dance!!! Let's have more of that, please!
So fortunate, we have been, to share in these things together.
The time is near for us to overstep a few illusionary lines, and look to where we intend to be in the years to come.
One community?
Please watch these raw, unedited interviews. There's a lot of content here, laden with jewels of wisdom, experience, laughter, and love, amid the monotony of growing old in a small mountain town.
Take what you will to build upon a cohesive future, knowing that there are heroes amongst us who were here long before many of us knew about this mountain.
Thank you!!!!
Special thanks to Doug Beechwood and Shoshannah Asha for their contributions to this project.
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