Colorado – people not pictures.

We entered through the north, 2 days of desolate scrubby, strip mall Wyoming plains and highways. With static washing out NPRs news of Erma churning southern USA, Nuculer bombs being dropped in the North, scan the waves for lesser dooms day blues, indicate to brighter days ahead, the colourful Colorado flag waving graciously in a light breeze. With no place to stay we get cozy under the lights of yet another Walmart carpark. The whole world seems grey with doubt, political thugs, knuckle dust with those on drugs and early concienious objectors who chose peace and exploration. I close my eyes contemplating above my pay grade, fade and dream im in a better world.

When you think its you vs the world, its a seizable task that casts darkness. But light thrives in this environment and auras burning bright draw together like magnetic swell. Theres always an ecstatic ocean of kindness, realist folks. Fort Collins, Pengree Park, Boulder, Nederland even the far eastern states, hands crafted in excellence, hearts without borders, souls saturated in unthavable solace. Today I went to Walmart under the impression a friendly face was sending a few bucks for trail snacks. Pete and Nancy put more than scroggin in the pocket, you cant correlate digits with un-conditional love, but acts of kindness so incredibly seamless imprint and stain your conscience. Fuji and there un-forgiving relentless no customer service policy. Conversations like circles, a slick fellow on the receiver collects from the rich and steals from the poor. No more Fuji xA2 (my camera is broken and the warranty void), warranties a reminder of materialistic smoke and mirrors. Give me love, friendships, purity, morals, open roads, creation, knowledge and untangable vessles untarnished by monetary influence. Pete and Nancy in our fortunes and misfortunes the timing of your gift has left a timeless impression, awakening a feeling I long to impart on others. This camera debarkle illustrates what ive titled corp-ruption (corporate corruption) and something I vowel to steer well clear of, yet aim for a charitable heart of grass-fruits (grass-roots, fruits or good old giving).

Criss crossing roads, open trails based on open hearts rather than open season. The elements of nature our guiding footstep. Blessed with a full tank of petrol, building black clouds and clashing winds. Pat at the mountain university campus, juiced us up on caffeine, graced us with fellowship, mechanisms of the universe and placing cogs in motion to adopt us into his community, a world where he is king inducing introduction abduction, yeah he took us in, family ties. Wild elk buggles late into the evening from the safety of our wood shack cabin. He woo’d us with mountain victories and travel mysticism. A bandana, vest, leaves to the wind, west is the best, high times in Colorado lifestyle.

The spirit of Chris Mc Candless lies in purgatory but the idea still lives on. I weep in the knowledge that his childhood memories of treks with his father are tarnished by a screen of a self righteous internalised hierarchy. That A younger Chris and Walt made annual trips to Longs Peak, the only 14er (peak above 14,000ft) in Northern Colorado, a father son kinship, a summit to strive towards. Walt insisted Chris was too young, the path beyond the keyhole a dangerous one which requires more skill than pocessed, fatherly love, cautious and wise. Walt acknowledges the early lust for adventure in his son, though castrates and forsakes it. When I read this story I cant but find symbolism in making the summit, that the youthful lust for adventure thats squatted in my soul can summit this peak, Longs Peak.

In the quest for quirks, queens and quintessential Boulder, we swayed from the status cwo, observed the swell of the couch surfing under tow. Denied by the overtly queer and the commune dwelling of the Rad-ish collective. Yeah well radishes have never really been worth collecting. But arms opened by Louiz and Melanie, no felony just auras in melody exuberantly pulsating, entangling a kiwi culture and embracing our linage as theres! They fed us and clothed us in kindness. The rituals of Boulder life presented in the ceremonial love of that of our hosts. The quirks are real amidst the town. Lovers of selves, of the opposite sex, of the feeling of the earth on there naked feet, hold hands and sing with liberating intentions. Expression of speech sprawled on placards, on pavements in the clothes that they wear. But for all those in favour, theres an opposing flavour. Mental depression, racial oppression and self obsession as those without limitations yell profane prophesies. Homelessness and helpfulness thier isnt much in between. Boulders lined with tea shops, pot shops and tea pot shops, just a hop scotch or a stones throw from hip hop. With all my zaniness I still cant decide if I belong or am to be gone. 

I suck change through my lungs, like Crispr arranging DNA. Designer babies for the fall of man. Fall has made the man, and the crisper air, aspen leaves flare, not a care in their DNA. Eyes estranged like DMT autumn gold, forest fires fizzle to frost then flicker lemon and orange amongst a citrus of cinematic corriography, as if to say “its as if it changed right before my very eyes”. Nederland not to be confused with never neverland was next for the lost boys and girls of Evelyn. Laid back vibes for a kombucha or two with hosts Chris and Jayda. A walk through the flames, hell illustrated in paper mashae, but blended with blue skies and white puffy clouds, teal rivers and an ant collective of earth tones, a reminder of God and how great it is to be alive.

Beauty despite bones, rattled by good soul vibration was lost a while after Ned. As the rich and lucrative, the haves, the trendy in vogue stake there claim in real estate gold Telluride. Historic buildings litter a quant valley surrounded in glowing mountain patches of autumn. Theres a reminder of consumerism enlightenment amongst designer shop faces. A rehabilitation of societal practices. Bumper stickers for Evelyn and caffeinated java from Ghost Town Cafe a small injection back into modern expectations, micro dosing alongside natural practises and re-wilding nearby at Priest lake campground, where our tent lay permanently pitched a few nights. One night I woke with a desert thirst and spent hours stumbling amongst the stars, id lost the tent, but before I lost my mind, I found Evelyn. I spent the evening chilled, alone but alive. Id let the wind grow so cold and ignored its bite, like a master that timidly lets its hound wrap its teeth, brushes the scars off as harmless play. While in constant oar of golden leaves, we’d dreamt lucid past extra sleeves. When the sun dipped to oblivion, we sought lithium springs to reenergise the odd wariness a travel companionship endures. The copper bubbling elixir of Coloradan juices, cleansed all open road inequities, seeped deeply through the core of confusing transitions. Then like the turning of a clean white page, a fresh slate of purity fell from the heavens and snow loosely draped like a veil on highly elevated peaks. The seasons have become me and defined the man. 

The Mountain Harvest festival may have been an older hippies mixer. A whispie rainbow gathering, peace and love grape stomp. But a grass search of oddly placed people found us roofed prismatic under canvas. Doug with his drugs and holy blessed teepee, he opened the doors and proclaimed home. So while we partook from the harvest of vegan vanities. Audio-logically basked our ears in melodic Buddhist hums, twangn banging beats of blue grass bandits and a tone death, feminist soloists, man cleanse. We let the rain wash the negativity to the ground, splashed its remains under dancing feet and we twirled our way like whirling dervishes into friendship refurbishes. All the planets aligned to infuse like-minded minds in a tribal drum circle encompassing the tee pee, a final Coloradan evening to whack skin in a primitive feeling of lifes simple pleasures. 
Hikes that added inspiration.

Fort Collins

Horsetooth rock 4km / 2.5mi

North of the Rockies

Big South 20km / 12mi

Cirque Meadows / Emmaline Lake 18km / 11mi

Rocky National Park
Longs Peak 22.8km / 14mi


Diamond Lake 12km / 7.5mi


Jud Weiber Trail 6km / 3.7mi

Bridal Veil Falls 7km / 4.4mi

Bear Creek Falls 7.5km / 4.7mi

Boomerang Trail 3.6km / 2.3mi

2 Replies to “Colorado – people not pictures.”

    1. Haha! Thats awesome 🙂 i miss you guys so much! You know who to call if you need some extra help and im always free to chat 🙂 love and miss you guys


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