The Arkansas River rushes through Scout Wave 2.0, a new river surfing feature christened last October. I don't know how to surf rivers (not to mention oceans or sand dunes or even webs for that matter) and would probably drown if I fell into this thing. Tenderfoot Hill, known to locals as "S" Mountain thanks to that giant white "S" installed near the summit, stands in the background waiting patiently for me to fall in and die. Fun fact: S Mountain used to be covered in trees and shrubbery, but all the smelting activity from a hundred or so years ago literally smoked them all into the afterlife. Funner fact: Scout Wave 2.0 was so overwhelmed by high water during last spring's runoff that it morphed into something more akin to a drowning machine than a surfing wave. As far as I know, nobody actually drowned. Probably because I wasn't there to do so.
I've been renting a room in Salida, Colorado for three months now. It's the first place I've lived in years where I think I might be able to settle down and feel at home. I have an excellent job, everything I really need is within walking distance, I've got fast access to world-class mountains from a reasonably healthy altitude, and I'm starting to find it increasingly easy to do something I've always been bad at—making new friends.
The concept of home has been a nebulous theme for me ever since I left Brazil and moved to the US when I was 18. To this day, I have no idea what to say when someone asks me where I'm from. There just isn't any place that feels like home to me.
So when they ask, I might respond with something along the lines of "Well, I grew up in Brazil…"—which is true, because I did, and this approach is a useful way for me to avoid calling Brazil the place I'm from, because I'm not from there, I just grew up there.
But, it's also a problematic approach, because it usually triggers a followup question wherein I must provide an answer as to what in hell I was doing getting myself born and raised in the jungle in the first place. "Well, my parents were Christian missionaries…"—also true, and also problematic. The first domino has fallen, and now the second, and half an hour later here I am still answering questions.
It's much easier to just lie. "I'm from Chicago…"—which is not true, but I did live there for eight years, and I did move directly to Denver from Chicago almost ten years ago now, so the lie is white enough for me to still be able to fall asleep at night.
Salida, by the way, is the Spanish word for exit. For it is at this point on the map where the Arkansas ceases flowing south from its headwaters in Leadville and exits to the southeast, running down Bighorn Sheep Canyon toward the Front Range and Pueblo, leaving Colorado, crossing the Great Plains, and finally joining forces with the Mississippi.
Looking northwest at old Denver & Rio Grande railroad tracks sitting in disuse along the Arkansas River. They've been decommissioned for decades now, but at one time they played a key role in moving freight and passengers across the entire state. Salida was an important hub on this line, and in times past you would have seen a train depot, a luxury hotel, and an engine roundhouse from this position. The slopes of S Mountain are to the right.
Do a 180, and there's the view southeast toward Bighorn Sheep Canyon. That bright thing in the sky is either the moon or a UFO. Not sure which, though; I didn't really pay it any attention. I've been trying to avoid looking at bright things in the sky ever since my cousin went blind from staring at the sun last summer. What a dangerous world we live in.
A bit farther down the tracks now. We're approaching the old D&RG engine backshop (which you can see better in this Salida Museum photo) and a pair of less-old bins used by Calco for limestone processing (source).
Closeup photo from as close as I could get without trespassing and getting killed by a mob of teenagers wielding spray paint cans and crack pipes:
Now looking back toward Tenderfoot. I'll live to drown another day, thank you very much.
So, where are you from?
Nowhere.
Nowhere? What's that supposed to mean?
It means I don't have a home. I'm not from anywhere.
Come on. Everyone has a home. You've got to be from somewhere.
Not me.
Alright, smartass. Fine. Where were you born?
Brazil.
Brazil? What were you doing down there?
My parents were—you know what, never mind.
But I'm curious! How is your English so good? You don't even have an acce—
An accent, I know. Never mind. How about we go back to that first question you asked and let me start over.
But—
Ask me where I'm from.
Fine, whatever you say, man. Where are you from?
Salida.
Your pictures are lovely. I can almost feel the crispy coolness on my skin and the crunch of gravel underfoot. The pictures look happy.
I forgot this about you. I remember a long time ago this was mentioned, and now I also remember why it always seems like you are family to me, when of course we really don't know each other. My husband has the same back story. He also hates talking about where he is from. I think growing up in a polygamist cult in Brazil is super interesting and a fantastic story...but apparently its less fun to talk about when you lived it. If I recall correctly your story is a bit less eccentric, so hey - it could be worse. Ha. He also makes that uncomfortable brief answer of where he is from, and he is very taciturn by nature, so people sense that and usually shutdown the following questions swarming in their brains.
You sound happy, and I'm so glad.
I'd forgotten about your husband's story, but now that you mention it I remember :) Thanks for the reminder. It's so interesting how we have similar stories. No polygamy in my background, but plenty of other dumb shit to mess with my head.
Yes, true… but I also feel like the older I get, the easier it is to talk. I'm more okay with it now than I used to be.
Yeah, I have fun answering that one too. Lived in Louisville half my life now but I most certainly am not from here. The flip side of that is most people at least have heard of Louisville but nobody's ever heard of my holler. Was born further east in Pikeville but my parents moved right after I was born so it's always been kind of fuzzy.
Christian missionaries, eh? Goddamn. That had to be a lot of things and most of them less than enjoyable. If you don't mind my asking, what flavor or Christian? Between the ones coming in to save us poor Appalachians and the ones heading out to save some other poor people, I ended up with what might be charitably described as a severe distaste for missionaries, can't imagine what it'd be like growing up on the other side of that.
On a totally unrelated note, you ever make it down/over to Ludlow?
Williba looks like the ends of the earth, man. I like little places like that. I went through the Daniel Boone NF not too far from Williba a couple autumns ago when I was living in a tent, and I remember really enjoying the area. Never stopped in Ludlow before, but I'm sure I've driven past it on I-25. Is there something interesting in Ludlow that I need to go investigate? :)
Technically non-denominational, but realistically something along the lines of extreme evangelical Baptist. Literal interpretation of the Bible, the earth is only 6,000 years old, everyone who doesn't believe in Jesus is going to burn in hell forever even if they've never heard of Jesus before, gays are evil, sex is bad, abortion is murder, all that sort of bullshit.
It could feel like that too from time to time but I loved it there. Life's just harder there, which has a lot to do with why I'm in Louisville still. Were you there while they were flying the Blackhawks looking for pot? That's usually closer to August but it's something of an annual tradition. Just a bit of history in Ludlow, there was a massacre there a little over a century ago during the Coal Wars that made things lively in Colorado for a bit.
I'm familiar with the type, there were plenty of those in eastern KY growing up. Somebody'd get put out that their church wasn't strict enough and start up a new one like that. After the divorce my mom dragged us to one for a while. One of my friends was the daughter of a Primitive Baptist preacher, she'd never cut her hair or worn a skirt shorter than her ankles before she moved off to college, fucked her up good for a long time. I'm guessing you got homeschooled? No clue where I was going with this now.
I don't remember seeing any blackhawks. That's hilarious that they flush all that money down the drain just to go on marijuana patrol. Fucking idiots. I don't recall knowing about the Ludlow massacre before… will have to do some reading. I like learning about history in general and especially about things local to Colorado.
My dad was a teacher at a boarding school for the children of missionaries who were out "saving" indigenous people in remote locations. So I attended the boarding school and actually had my dad as a teacher for several classes.
Every year, regular as clockwork. They may not do it anymore but back before places started legalizing it Kentucky was usually #2 or #3 in the country for growing pot and much of that came out of the Daniel Boone. It's also the State Police's annual smoke session, buddy of mine was in the Guard, was telling how once they find it they pile it up and burn it and the state troopers are very careful to stay downwind of it.
Ludlow's one of those bits of history they've been trying to forget just about since it happened. It was a major factor in stuff like child labor laws and the 8 hour workday but you couldn't tell it today. You ever listen to Utah Phillips? Old wobbly/anarchist music, but he talks/sings about Ludlow some.
Ah, gotcha, that had to be interesting. Had my dad as a principal (of the vocational school) which wasn't unpleasant but I don't know that I'd want to have to have him as a teacher.
I'm not familiar with Utah Phillips but it sounds like the type of music I can indulge from time to time. I'll look him up.
Gotta love cops and their double standards. A government-sponsored gang, that's all they are.
So, I’m going to go ahead and assume you can surf snow and ice, since you left those out.
S Mountain reminds me of what I’d call foothills in western Canada Inc.
Salida sounds like the right shoe spot for you. If you decide to come north to test your anti-drowning capability, here’s the ideal spot. Guaranteed drowning.
Next time I feel like dying I will book a flight to Saint John. Thanks for the tip.
I do occasionally surf snow and ice, sometimes boulders too.
You're welcome, it's a well known spot for high dives.
Love the clip and you're wearing what, shorts and some sort of atheletic shoe while doing that? Life on the edge, what a thrill ride. Impressive foot maneouvering, although I find it disturbing seeing how far a tiny bit of snow rolls, steep angle.
Yes, it was shorts weather. Despite the snow the temps were high and when you're so far above the trees like that, the UV index is intense. If you don't use sunscreen and sunglasses you'll get roasted.
You know what I was thinking of? Not freezing cold, since it looks hot and I can tell by the texture of the snow, seeing it move in a particular way that it's wet snow, which means hot sun, if that makes sense. I was thinking that if you fell, rolled like the snow, the boulders would gnash your legflesh to a bloodly pulpy mess.
I have lots of nice boulder scars on my legs already. No plans to add any bloody pulpy messes.
😂 I can imagine, but I think I want to see some photo proof of said leg scars, if that doesn't creep you out, 'course, if they aren't noteworthy scars and are instead just ordinary ones, I'll simply take your word as proof, no photo required.
Not a bad walk there!
I wonder if @davedickeyyall has been to that river in all his road adventures in the midwest. To me it looks like scenes out of Grand Theft Auto 5 where I used to have my weed grow op! ;)
Those GTA and weed shenanigans aren't too far from reality in this case. Someone was doing donuts in that parking lot in photo #2 last night. Plenty of evidence of drug activity along the tracks, too. Oh well, such is life 🤷♂ Thanks for stopping by :)
I love the big sky in these pics. For me that's a sign of a great place. No buildings and what not obscuring the funk out of the blue.
I think I might say I'm from Chicago if people ask in future. It has a nice ring to it!
Do it! And if you really want to lie your way to mad respect, say you're from the south side :)
Post manually reviewed. 😊
it does look cool but so beautiful as well
Thanks for joining the Wednesday Walk :)
Sure thing, thanks for reading! It's beautiful country out here :)
Yay! 🤗
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