Denver, but not a lot of it…

Denver Art Museum in Denver, Colorado

Having spent maybe too much time with the other exhibits, we needed to return to the Denver Art Museum today for more of the Spun exhibit and two others, one of which carried an extra charge I wasn’t willing to pay, but Caroline was quite interested. With no photography allowed, I had little interest in visiting while Caroline busied herself exploring things.

Rothko piece at the Denver Art Museum in Denver, Colorado

Figure to Field was the title of the exhibit featuring work by Mark Rothko out of the 1940s. Clandestinely, I was able to snag a couple of photos of the Rothko works.

Rothko piece at the Denver Art Museum in Denver, Colorado

I’m surprised either of these images turned out as it’s never easy with a DSLR to be discreet and quickly snap the photo when security is out of eye and earshot.

Denver Art Museum in Denver, Colorado

I hung out in front of the museum while Caroline was inside visiting the Nick Cave: Sojourn exhibit, and that’s not the Australian Nick Cave from The Birthday Party or Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds fame but the other Nick Cave the American sculptor, dancer, performance artist, and professor. Again, no photography allowed, but Caroline managed to get a couple, so to tell you more, I’ll turn the next image and paragraph over to my wife.

I was surprised and delighted by the Nick Cave exhibit. I had never heard of “this” Nick Cave, and his work is phenomenal, especially the sound suits, which are incredibly detailed costumes often used in dance performances. Each one is unique, and many involve painstakingly arranged buttons and other decorative items. Unfortunately, the single good photo that I was able to sneak appears to be lost on my hard drive. By the way, I remember desperately digging through the Art Museum’s gift store for a sound suit memento or a postcard, and they had nothing other than an expensive book. 

Caroline Wise at the Denver Art Museum in Denver, Colorado

While Caroline was busy appreciating the art and I was outside grinding my teeth about these silly rules about photography, I spent my time writing until she emerged, and instead of hugging me, she went right for the steer. Oh well, I probably wasn’t all that sweet after stewing in my grump.

Sunset in Denver, Colorado

Dinner was at an incredibly wonderful place called Root Down that we’ll remember for years; it was a big wow.

Spun Out in Denver

Denver, Colorado

Boarded a jetplane shortly after sunrise out of Phoenix for an early arrival in Denver, Colorado. We have business of sorts to deal with here.

Denver, Colorado

We are not on hand for this street fest, though it’s an interesting prospect. The location we are looking for is not far from the Denver Civic Center, and the Taste of Colorado Festival just happens to be going on this weekend.

Caroline Wise at the Denver Art Museum in Denver, Colorado

Here we are at the Denver Art Museum, and can you guess why? Caroline had learned that an exhibition titled “Spun – Adventures in Textiles,” which had been running since May 19th, was coming to a close in a few weeks on September 22. If we were going to see the exhibit, it was now or never.

Denver Art Museum in Denver, Colorado

This a hint of things to come because we’ll not be visiting all of the Spun exhibits yet, plus, there is no photography allowed of the textiles.

Denver Art Museum in Denver, Colorado

Well, now, I’ve seen The Four Seasons Summer by Giuseppe Arcimboldo with my own eyes.

Indra Riding His Royal Elephant at the Denver Art Museum in Denver, Colorado

The sculpture is titled “Indra Riding His Royal Elephant” and arrives as a 1,000-year-old piece out of Thailand or Cambodia.

Gujarat Shrine Doorway at the Denver Art Museum in Denver, Colorado

A Gujarat, India, Shrine Door from 1600.

Section of Palace Facade from Pakistan at the Denver Art Museum in Denver, Colorado

In the world of art collection, one has to wonder about how a palace facade from Pakistan is collected and shipped off.

Denver Art Museum in Denver, Colorado

Seated Eight-Armed Durga from Madhya Pradesh Province, India, about 1,000 years old.

Cross-eyed Head Hacha from Veracruz at the Denver Art Museum in Denver, Colorado

Apparently, the Olmec people left an impression on those who would follow them in the Veracruz region of Mexico for making head sculptures. The person who made this Cross-eyed Head Hacha must have had a sense of humor. As far as I can tell, hacha is Spanish for ax, so is this a cutting tool?

Denver Art Museum in Denver, Colorado

I believe this is an Aztec sculpture by the original creators of cosplay.

Peruvian Tasseled Tunic at the Denver Art Museum in Denver, Colorado

From Peru, we ogled this Tasseled Tunic of the Chimu Culture that is estimated to have been created between 1300 and 1450 AD.

Ancient Meso American Spindles at the Denver Art Museum in Denver, Colorado

Unfortunately, we didn’t note the provenance of these beautiful spindles, but they are probably also from ancient Peru.

Ancient Meso American Spindles at the Denver Art Museum in Denver, Colorado

These spindles still held spun fibers. The intensity of the red threads was astounding.

Denver Art Museum in Denver, Colorado

Mayan terracotta vase possibly used during ritualized drinking of chocolate medicine

Mayan Incense Burner with Sun God Face Denver Art Museum in Denver, Colorado

I don’t know about my wife, but I could use one of these Incense Burners with Sun God Face at our place. It doesn’t have to come from the Guatemalan Highlands and be more than 1100 years old; I could make do with one that’s only 500 years old. If anyone has a lead on one in good shape for less than a couple hundred dollars, hit me up.

Caroline Wise at the Denver Art Museum in Denver, Colorado

For just a moment, I thought this giant sculpture from Roxanne Swentzell had Caroline thinking about becoming a mom, but I was wrong.

Inupiaq Suit of Armor at the Denver Art Museum in Denver, Colorado

This Inupiaq body armor is made of walrus and seal skin; I vote for this to become a new line of casual daily wear so I can retire my aging Chilkat wrap we picked up a couple of years ago. [Update: Caroline informs me that I’m full of you-know-what as we could have never afforded that wrap and that it’s too hot to wear walrus in the Arizona desert.]

Spruce Root Tlingit Hat at the Denver Art Museum in Denver, Colorado

You might never guess what this is that I’m showing you if I didn’t explain things; it is the close-up detail of a Tlingit hat made of spruce root.

Denver Art Museum in Denver, Colorado

The Inupiat, Chilkat, and Tlingit all share the commonality that they are indigenous people living in different areas of Alaska.

These exhibits are some of the treasures of being alive in this age where people can explore the art, history, and culture of people from different geographic regions and eras in a single air-conditioned facility and then turn around and research the most current available knowledge about the subjects on a device in their pockets.

What else was explored over the rest of the day into the evening is long lost as there were no notes taken during this trip, and the reality is that this post wasn’t assembled until mid-2023, nearly ten years after the experiences were gained.

The Workshops

Caroline Wise at the Intermountain Weavers Conference in Durango, Colorado

Here she is, my fiber-addicted wife, Caroline Wise. Metamucil, you ask; maybe oatmeal or whole wheat bread is her fiber of choice? Heck no, all that would be cheap compared to someone who has joined the flock of weavers, spinners, basket makers, dyers, knitters, and other assorted people who enjoy the hobby that takes over all of your space. Fiber artists don’t have anything like Knitters Anonymous; they have the exact opposite: Fiber Guilds.

— Please Take Note: well after this was all posted, I decided to merge some of the workshop images onto their date-appropriate pages so things coincided with when they were happening. I chose not to delete this post, which is mostly duplicated now, as this page has received so many visits that I don’t want it to just disappear from the search engines.

Intermountain Weavers Conference in Durango, Colorado

And what do guilds do? They organize workshops, retreats, and classes. They write books and magazine articles and produce videos. Bands of merchants selling the hot wares follow this tribe around to encourage further consumption and great new projects yet to be spun, frogged, carded, and strewn about as dozens of UFOs – Un-Finished Objects.

Intermountain Weavers Conference in Durango, Colorado

Ever heard of dyeing fabric with mud? Forget your Dolce & Gabbana; we’re going stone age and wearing mud again. I’m not even sure then why we must first put it on fabric instead of just rolling around in the stuff. To be fair, this method of dyeing with mud is called Bogolanfini, a traditional African method – albeit one modified by Judy Dominic. Judy particularly enjoys the inspiration of the designs used by the people of Mali.

Intermountain Weavers Conference in Durango, Colorado

Try pronouncing Katazome or Shibori. Katazome is a paste-resist dyeing method using rice paste, soy milk, various pigments, and a lot of indigo. It was this class given by John Marshall here in Durango, Colorado at the campus of Fort Lewis that brought us to the Intermountain Weavers Conference. Every other year, IWC hosts a fiber hoedown that attracts members and non-members alike to spend three days trying new fiber drugs. Trust me, it is not uncommon to hear someone asking to borrow a needle.

Fabric coming out of the indigo dye bath still green - IWC in Durango, CO

John Marshall teaches his students this old Japanese art of Katazome that is quickly disappearing as modern manufacturing processes and the desire for inexpensive clothing make this a dying craft. After the students applied pigments and paste resist materials and probably some other processes in an order I have no clue about, they would dip their work into a vat of indigo. As the cloth is pulled from the indigo, it is still green, as were the leaves that went into the vat that makes indigo.

Intermountain Weavers Conference in Durango, Colorado

The magic of indigo happens as the materials are exposed to the air; they begin to oxidize. This oxidation process is what turns the fabric that familiar blue we are all aware of. Depending on what is being dyed, the fabric can turn deep shades of blue, as do fingers and even the hair of one of the ladies in Caroline’s class. Hey Nancy, not sure what I think of blue bangs on white hair, though it wasn’t bad. Maybe this will inspire this grandmother-aged sweet lady to now consider a tattoo of an alpaca with crossed shears. Argh.

Intermountain Weavers Conference in Durango, Colorado

The other word I introduced you to was Shibori. Shibori is an ancient Japanese fiber art similar to the Rajashtahni and Gujarati craft of Bandhani. These two styles of dyeing can involve an incredible amount of handwork. Small or even larger segments of cloth are wrapped, stitched, folded, twisted, and bound with string; at times, hundreds, even thousands, of the wrapped bundles are applied to a piece of cloth. This slows down and can stop the dye from reaching all of the cloth as it is dipped in dye to produce beautiful patterns. Now, think of where you may have seen or heard of a cloth that is a descendant of this process. It sounds a bit like Bandhani; how about the good old Bandana? Bet you didn’t know that it wasn’t the hippies of the 1960s who invented Tie Dye.

Intermountain Weavers Conference in Durango, Colorado

After much work and a ton of international coordination, the board members of IWC were able to convince the renowned Scholar, Curator, and Artist Yoshiko Iwamoto Wada to lead a workshop teaching this art form known as Shibori. Ms. Wada not only taught an overflowing class of enthusiastic students, but she was also the Keynote Speaker of the conference. With nothing else going on that night, I stuck around to listen, good thing I did. While fiber arts may not be my specialty, I can certainly appreciate the craft and skill that goes into this work. During the presentation, we learned of the work of a number of artists working in Japan that elicited the oohs and aahs of the overheated theater that reached its seating capacity. Some of the artists who truly made an impression on me were Jurgen Lehl, Christina Kim, and the guys behind Sou.Sou; Tsuyoshi Wakabayashi, Katsuji Wakisaka, and Hisanobu Tsujimura.

Sign directing attendees to the 2011 Intermountain Weavers Conference in Durango, CO

The grounds of Fort Lewis are spread out, although it may have only felt that way because Durango sits at 6,512 feet above sea level (1984m). On one end of the campus was the Student Union building, where check-in, the cafeteria, and merchants were located. In a nearby building, five or six classes were being held; next door to that was the theater. On the way north across campus was another building where a few classes were taking place, followed by the Arts building where Caroline’s class and five others were going on. At the far north, a juried fiber exhibit was taking place.

Intermountain Weavers Conference in Durango, Colorado

Vegetarian trophy heads. I didn’t see this one coming. For those who enjoy a little stuffed head taxidermy of a trophy kill but would like to be animal cruelty-free while admiring the beast mounted on the wall, try knitting your own. That’s just what this young 22-year-old woman, Syndi Roberts, did. I wonder if I found a dead bear someday out on the trail that died of natural causes, and I shorn that old bear to bring the fiber home to Caroline. Could she spin my bear fur into yarn and knit me up a bear head? I’d imagine that I would be the envy of all my tree-hugging buddies.

Intermountain Weavers Conference in Durango, Colorado

From furry heads to hot bodies. What kind of fibery workshop/festival event would be complete without a fashion show? A bad one, the Intermountain Weavers didn’t disappoint. This 80-something-year-old babe stole the show with her soon-to-be trendy again swimsuit that dragged out the wolf whistles. Betty relished the attention, strutting her figure while notching up the temperature in the theater another few degrees. She pranced left, sashayed right, and flaunted every bit of sexy she could muster.

Questionable as to what exactly is going on here at IWC in Durango, CO

From the bodacious to the lascivious. This show had it all, including this kinky master/slave display featuring elements of domination and bestiality from two bad-ass grannies who knew how to get the kink on. Sure, they wrapped it in some innocuous Mary Had A Little Lamb skit, but I knew the sub-context; nothing is lost on me or my vivid imagination.

The next day, things went back to normal, and the attendees got back to serious craft. Caroline was now ready to start dyeing her designs on hemp cloth. With her rubber gloves and apron, there would be no turning her skin or hair blue. John Marshall was pushing his students to complete half a dozen projects, teaching them the art of Katazome.

Intermountain Weavers Conference in Durango, Colorado

During my relatively short stay on campus, I took some time to visit all of the classrooms to see what else was on offer. In this class, maybe a dozen people were working on improving their tapestry loom skills. It was also possible this was the first time on such a loom; I didn’t want to disturb the instructors, so I simply stuck my head in, snapped a few photos, and left.

Visiting one of the weaving workshops at IWC in Durango, Colorado

This weaving workshop was specializing in creating stripes. The patterns and techniques that have been developed over the previous 20,000 years by the hands of countless human beings across all geographical regions of our planet are as diverse as there are sunrises in one’s life. If we are fortunate, these women who are keeping these arts alive will inspire a new generation to pick up the craft, and with any luck, some of the history, skills, and methods will find their way onto video to be shared with future generations. You see, I have this hope that at some point in our evolution, we humans will become enlightened, and through the work of the many minds who are creating ever greater efficiencies, humans will learn to enjoy their time where learning and crafts lead the day as opposed to rushing around responding to non-sensical information and the demands of work.

Intermountain Weavers Conference in Durango, Colorado

Advancing one’s skills or learning new ones is a goal of these workshops. Here, these two women are working to expand their knowledge of sewing. Maybe this is also an opportunity to rub shoulders with like-minded individuals and get away from spouses who may not be exactly supportive of these hobby crafts. The most striking aspect of my short visits to these events is the camaraderie exhibited between attendees. There is no hesitation to share tips and tricks; there is no bragging about statistics that put one person in a bragging position where their expertise creates celebrity – most of the time!

Intermountain Weavers Conference in Durango, Colorado

This is an example of the final outcome. Spend years perfecting the techniques that broaden the ability to discern the beauty in patterns and then deploy those skills to inspire your fellow artists. This handwoven shawl was on display in the non-juried Intermountain Spirit exhibit, with attending members encouraged to submit their best work, too.

Intermountain Weavers Conference in Durango, Colorado

My vote for best of show would have been this handwoven basket. The irregular shape and southwest mountain colors with a fine band of green glass beads really worked for me. And people think basket weaving is a boring chore for retirees with nothing better to do, as though staring at a small screen and tapping out messages in 140 characters or less is a statement of the pinnacle of sophistication people have attained. Do I sound bitter about the neglect of our skills, intellect, and respect for those who learn? Well, I guess I am – oh, how I wish humanity would find its next renaissance.

Intermountain Weavers Conference in Durango, Colorado

The culmination of Caroline’s efforts at the Intermountain Weavers Conference 2011 event in Durango, Colorado. Next year, she will likely attend Fibers Through Time 2012 to be held in Phoenix, Arizona. If we are still living in the southwest the following year, I wouldn’t imagine it as being too far a stretch that she will once again find herself in Durango attending IWC 2013.

Going Home

The small cabin on the dock was our home away from home here at Five Branches Camper Park in Bayfield, Colorado on the Vallecito Reservoir

That sweet little cabin over on the dock was our home away from home for the past five days while we stayed at Five Branches Camper Park on Vallecito Reservoir. Our lakeside view, the beautiful forest, and the ride through the woods every day are hard to leave behind. Lucky for us, we leave with fond memories. The two bears that had been visiting the camp nearly every night didn’t have the chance to eat us or any of our neighbors. The sun rose, it set, and in between, we saw the sun unless the stars were out. This place could easily stay on our list of places to return to someday. Sadly, we never had the opportunity to go out kayaking or canoeing. The problem here is that no one can take a boat out before 8:00 a.m., by which time we were already gone, and boats had to be returned by 5:00; we never got back much before 6:00. No matter, though, we enjoyed our stay.

Two osprey starting to build a tree top nest next to Vallecito Reservoir in Bayfield, Colorado

Today, Caroline was sporting her eagle eye as while we were driving along the narrow lakeside road; she spotted two large birds sitting atop a barren tree. I turned around so we could inspect (and verify her rare find – think myopic); sure enough, she had seen two ospreys, also known as seahawks. The bird coming in for a landing is carrying a branch that we watched it snatch off a nearby tree with a pronounced snap. It circled around and was about to deliver the beginnings of a new nest for momma and poppa birds.

Aspen stand off the Redrock Highway in northern Arizona on the Navajo Reservation

The next hours we drove through the Ute Reservation and their town of Ignacio. Next was Aztec, New Mexico, and the first and one of the last Starbucks we would find before passing through Flagstaff, Arizona, later in the day. So, I’m addicted. It is a long drive from Durango, Colorado, to Phoenix, Arizona. After Aztec and nearly the same town, we drive through Farmington. It was in Farmington back on October 19, 2000, that we had the chance to spend a night at Kokopelli Cave while my mother-in-law Jutta was visiting. The cave is one of the most unique places in all of America to stay at. But today, we are going home.

Looking south on the Navajo Reservation in eastern Arizona

We have left the Redrock Highway with some great views and beautiful red sandstone bluffs but quality photos were not in the cards this trip. Back down on flat land, we were afforded some tremendous vistas; even a little rain was spotted way off in the distance left of the centerline. No rivers, no trees, and not much of anything out here. Can you guess why this made perfect Indian Reservation land? The answer is easy: there was nothing our forefathers wanted from this land. Caroline and I find it infinitely gorgeous; sadly, most tourists do not. The casual observer gets distracted by the poverty, desolation, and inane stereotypes that have been propagated over the years regarding the indigenous people of North America.

Two dead calves roadside on the Navajo Reservation

Two dead calves lie in front of the gate that leads to Keams, Arizona – they are a warning not to trespass on Indian lands. Even if one were to want to open the gate to take a shortcut to Keams, how would you maneuver the carcasses?

New Native American pictographs of Mickey are replacing the more old fashioned Kokopelli, dear, or sign for the sun, water, or some other dumb stuff

This is the new face of Native American rock art, also known as pictographs. Out with Kokopelli, the sun, water, dear, or other tired, old-fashioned symbols from the previous thousands of years. Modern Indians are putting down new icons, like Mickey Freakin Mouse. Strangely, Mickey is almost across the street from the two dead calves. Could this be some mysterious signal to passing native motorists that running down animals to leave subversive and superstitious-looking roadside messages is right on? Then they throw out Disney characters to disorient us, tourists, into fearing the red man. Maybe the tide is turning, and the Indians are getting wise to our wacky right-wing belief systems and are starting to toy with our heads. Native Americans, rise up and take over the media landscape; it’s time for revenge for what was taken from you. The first step, corrupt our icons.

A curve in the road on the Navajo Reservation in Arizona

With the aerosol bombardment of peyote starting to wear off, a curve in the road returns me to my senses and out of the hallucinations I was obviously having back there deep on the Rez. I’m sure that later when I look back at those photos, the dead calves and Mickey will have proven to be a figment of my imagination. You can bet I’m happy to be returning to normal.

Dead horse on the Navajo Reservation, Arizona

And just then, in that moment of doubting what I was seeing, here’s the remains of a horse that will be ridden no more.

Up that way is the Navajo Rez, behind the camera is America. Fuck yeah!

In front of the camera is the Navajo Nation, and behind me is America, where I feel like a white guy. Soon, we will approach gas stations with hordes of hot tourists driving down Interstate 40, clogging some of the grimiest bathrooms your nose wants to experience in the summer. Flushed of their overflowing bladders, they will flock to the freezer for ice creams and coke – good old American food, no more of that sinewy old mutton and fry bread cooked in lard for me. Just me and my America, going home. Makes me well up and think about listening to this when I get home.

A Working Day

Vallecito Reservoir on an early morning in Colorado

The sun will soon be fully over the mountain horizon behind our camp, but until then, we enjoy our breakfast, watching the calm water of the lake in front of us. By the time the sun is up, we’ll be on our way into town. Stay here a few days, and you’ll have a growing respect for the retirees who drag their 5th wheels and motorhomes out this way to act as camp hosts for the season. For the entire summer, they call this view home.

A man fishing next to the reflective waters of Vallecito Reservoir near where the waters of the Los Pinos River enter the reservoir

An early riser out lakeside looking to compliment his breakfast with a fresh trout. I don’t know if he was successful; Caroline and I were in the car about to drive up the hill and around the lake. On the north end of the lake, a wayward pony was walking along the road, seemingly lost and bewildered. I stopped, rolled down the window, and offered the horse a lift, but it just kept on walking, oblivious to us. I admit that the horse didn’t have a thumb out, so I can’t say it was actually hitchhiking, but you never know. The rest of the drive into Durango was uneventful, but we did see a bunch of turkeys in a meadow heading for the forest.

The Durango & Silverton Narrow Gauge Train getting ready for another day of work taking people on a historic ride to an old mining town

While Caroline has nerves that are able to deal with the trauma of caffeine withdrawal, I have no such inner strength and must heed the call of Starbucks. Like the old steam train above loaded with coal and water, I’m properly tanked up on my espresso shot that was carefully blended with the right amount of steamed soy milk and three splashes of sugar-free hazelnut syrup so that I am now able to take on the tasks that await me. Like a hunting dog distracted by a squirrel, I don’t get far before – “TRAIN!” Does it matter that I already have no less than 83 other photos of the D&S? Of course not; this one could be better than all the rest. But it’s not; I blame it on the jitters of too much coffee. The remainder of my morning into the afternoon was spent photographing the various workshops for the Intermountain Weavers over at Fort Lewis College.

Intermountain Weavers Conference in Durango, Colorado

Ever heard of dyeing fabric with mud? Forget your Dolce & Gabbana; we’re going stone age and wearing mud again. I’m not even sure then why we must first put it on fabric instead of just rolling around in the stuff. To be fair, this method of dyeing with mud is called Bogolanfini, a traditional African method – albeit one modified by Judy Dominic. Judy particularly enjoys the inspiration of the designs used by the people of Mali.

Intermountain Weavers Conference in Durango, Colorado

Try pronouncing Katazome or Shibori. Katazome is a paste-resist dyeing method using rice paste, soy milk, various pigments, and a lot of indigo. It was this class given by John Marshall here in Durango, Colorado at the campus of Fort Lewis that brought us to the Intermountain Weavers Conference. Every other year, IWC hosts a fiber hoedown that attracts members and non-members alike to spend three days trying new fiber drugs. Trust me, it is not uncommon to hear someone asking to borrow a needle.

Intermountain Weavers Conference in Durango, Colorado

John Marshall teaches his students this old Japanese art of Katazome that is quickly disappearing as modern manufacturing processes and the desire for inexpensive clothing make this a dying craft. After the students applied pigments and paste resist materials and probably some other processes in an order I have no clue about, they would dip their work into a vat of indigo. As the cloth is pulled from the indigo, it is still green, as were the leaves that went into the vat that makes indigo.

The magic of indigo happens as the materials are exposed to the air; they begin to oxidize. This oxidation process is what turns the fabric that familiar blue we are all aware of. Depending on what is being dyed, the fabric can turn deep shades of blue, as do fingers and even the hair of one of the ladies in Caroline’s class. Hey Nancy, not sure what I think of blue bangs on white hair, though it wasn’t bad. Maybe this will inspire this grandmother-aged sweet lady to now consider a tattoo of an alpaca with crossed shears. Argh.

Intermountain Weavers Conference in Durango, Colorado

After much work and a ton of international coordination, the board members of IWC were able to convince the renowned Scholar, Curator, and Artist Yoshiko Iwamoto Wada to lead a workshop teaching this art form known as Shibori. Ms. Wada not only taught an overflowing class of enthusiastic students, but she was also the Keynote Speaker of the conference. With nothing else going on that night, I stuck around to listen, good thing I did. While fiber arts may not be my specialty, I can certainly appreciate the craft and skill that goes into this work. During the presentation, we learned of the work of a number of artists working in Japan that elicited the oohs and aahs of the overheated theater that reached its seating capacity. Some of the artists who truly made an impression on me were Jurgen Lehl, Christina Kim, and the guys behind Sou.Sou; Tsuyoshi Wakabayashi, Katsuji Wakisaka, and Hisanobu Tsujimura.

Caroline was ready to start dyeing her designs on hemp cloth. With her rubber gloves and apron, there would be no turning her skin or hair blue. John Marshall was pushing his students to complete half a dozen projects, teaching them the art of Katazome.

Intermountain Weavers Conference in Durango, Colorado

During my relatively short stay on campus, I took some time to visit all of the classrooms to see what else was on offer. In this class, maybe a dozen people were working on improving their tapestry loom skills. It was also possible this was the first time on such a loom; I didn’t want to disturb the instructors, so I simply stuck my head in, snapped a few photos, and left.

Intermountain Weavers Conference in Durango, Colorado

Advancing one’s skills or learning new ones is a goal of these workshops. Here, these two women are working to expand their knowledge of sewing. Maybe this is also an opportunity to rub shoulders with like-minded individuals and get away from spouses who may not be exactly supportive of these hobby crafts. The most striking aspect of my short visits to these events is the camaraderie exhibited between attendees. There is no hesitation to share tips and tricks; there is no bragging about statistics that put one person in a bragging position where their expertise creates celebrity – most of the time!

Intermountain Weavers Conference in Durango, Colorado

The grounds of Fort Lewis are spread out, although it may have only felt that way because Durango sits at 6,512 feet above sea level (1984m). On one end of the campus was the Student Union building, where check-in, the cafeteria, and merchants were located. In a nearby building, five or six classes were being held; next door to that was the theater. On the way north across campus was another building where a few classes were taking place, followed by the Arts building where Caroline’s class and five others were going on. At the far north, a juried fiber exhibit was taking place.

This is an example of the final outcome. Spend years perfecting the techniques that broaden the ability to discern the beauty in patterns and then deploy those skills to inspire your fellow artists. This handwoven shawl was on display in the non-juried Intermountain Spirit exhibit, with attending members encouraged to submit their best work, too.

Intermountain Weavers Conference in Durango, Colorado

My vote for best of show would have been this handwoven basket. The irregular shape and southwest mountain colors with a fine band of green glass beads really worked for me. And people think basket weaving is a boring chore for retirees with nothing better to do, as though staring at a small screen and tapping out messages in 140 characters or less is a statement of the pinnacle of sophistication people have attained. Do I sound bitter about the neglect of our skills, intellect, and respect for those who learn? Well, I guess I am – oh, how I wish humanity would find its next renaissance.

Intermountain Weavers Conference in Durango, Colorado

The culmination of Caroline’s efforts at the Intermountain Weavers Conference 2011 event in Durango, Colorado. Next year, she will likely attend Fibers Through Time 2012 to be held in Phoenix, Arizona. If we are still living in the southwest the following year, I wouldn’t imagine it as being too far a stretch that she will once again find herself in Durango attending IWC 2013.

Caroline Wise and John Wise's final dinner lakeside at Vallecito Reservoir in Bayfield, Colorado

When that part of the day was finally complete, Caroline and I made our way back to the lake for our final dinner to be enjoyed on the dock. Up for tonight’s dining pleasure: mixed beans with Grand Canyon-style Dutch oven-baked green chili, corn, and cheese cornbread. We toasted the fun getaway with some sparkling cider. Word of warning: we dragged this bottle of Martinelli’s from our refrigerator in Phoenix (elevation of about 1100 feet) to this lake (elevation of approximately 7600 feet) and popped open the bottle with no idea that I would be wearing a quarter of the sparkling apple cider as the pressure release jettisoned off a nice glass full of juice from my knees to my chin. Laughter made for a great appetizer.

Easy Day

Los Pinos River running through Bayfield, Colorado after leaving the Vallecito Reservoir further upstream

It’s going to be an easy day today. I don’t feel like going far, but I am curious about what lies east of Durango and south of Bayfield. Before entering the small historic downtown area of Bayfield, I had to first cross a little bridge spanning the Los Pinos River. This is the same river that feeds Vallecito Reservoir further upstream, where Caroline and I are staying during our visit to Colorado. If you drive the speed limit through town, it will take about 30 seconds to have seen it all. Back on the main road, I am moving away from the mountains that are fading in my rearview mirror.

Wide open view of the area south of Bayfield, Colorado

I followed a sign that pointed in the direction of Ignacio. Along the way, I passed Chimney Rock Archaeological Area. There were a couple of guys at the primitive gate with a small tent; obviously, something special was happening here today. I’m told the entry fee is $10 – cash or check; I have $7 cash and no check. There is no ATM to be found here either. On this particular weekend, Chimney Rock is hosting the Native American Cultural Gathering featuring singers, storytellers, and dancers from various Pueblos. This event is now on our calendar of things to return to. I suggest you check out the Chimney Rock website, as they have events all year round.

A telephone pole next to barbed wire fence in the dry grass with a deep blue sky

Good thing I didn’t have enough cash; I may have gone in and really enjoyed myself, but I’d rather share this with Caroline on a future visit as we both enjoy these types of events. So, I continued driving instead. These roads are not popular with RVers or bikers; it would appear that mostly locals were passing me. The land is mostly flat with some rolling hills, but still, this is a landscape I appreciate. If only I could have seen these places before power lines traced the routes, airplanes flew overhead, and the roar of engines screamed past me as people raced to buy something else.

A random shack not much larger than an outhouse sits falling apart on the way to Ignacio, Colorado

Moments of solitude are all I am afforded when stopped roadside to admire a view. Invariably, someone else will chase by; on occasion, youngsters think they need to honk the horn and yell some unintelligible words warbled by the Doppler effect of their speeding car. They disappear over the next rise, and I am once again alone to listen to the birds, the stir of grasses as lizards dart by, and a few brief seconds of silence.

Barbed wire fence in Colorado

I’m a sucker for old weathered relics from the past. My imagination can easily get lost exploring the story behind the object that has performed sentinel duty for decades prior to my arrival. I enjoy dreaming of who the builders were, who passed this way, and what life was like for the folk who one day stood here chatting with a neighbor out in the middle of nowhere. I probably over-romanticize the scene, influenced by a movie or two too many, but that’s ok; I’m still happy that memories can take me somewhere after my intent has delivered me to the place where my mind can play.

An bunk house that is part barn falling to bits on the road to Vallecito Reservoir in Bayfield, Colorado

One more stop before this brief road trip is over, this time at a collapsing barn that appears to have also been a bunkhouse. The proper house is long gone; only its stone chimney survives in the background. Inside the building is a slightly underground “cellar,” not sure that’s what it was, but it looks like it could have functioned in that capacity to my untrained eye. There is an old bunk bed frame with a stamp of U.S. painted on the ends; looks like surplus World War II-era Army bunks. It will be when augmented reality becomes reality, and I can have some type of mobile device that, with the use of GPS, I can learn the history of the family that lived in the house and what kind of life they lived here at the foot of the San Juan Mountains, then I will buy a cell-phone or tablet.

Vallecito Reservoir in Bayfield, Colorado

I was back at the cabin before lunchtime. Before, I would make a late lunch / early dinner for myself and grill a piece of fish for Caroline for when I meet her on campus later, I sat lakeside writing – and burning. How old does a man have to be before he learns that even in the shade, sunblock is required? Answer: it probably will never happen, so no numeric value of age can be given – thus, this is a trick question. The rest of the day was given to lounging right here with pen, paper, and a book for when my mind could not produce renderable words.

Caroline Wise at the Intermountain Weavers Conference in Durango, Colorado

Here she is, my fiber-addicted wife, Caroline Wise. Metamucil, you ask; maybe oatmeal or whole wheat bread is her fiber of choice? Heck no, all that would be cheap compared to someone who has joined the flock of weavers, spinners, basket makers, dyers, knitters, and other assorted people who enjoy the hobby that takes over all of your space. Fiber artists don’t have anything like Knitters Anonymous; they have the exact opposite: Fiber Guilds. She’s obviously happy to see me, probably because I’ve brought Caroline her dinner, as we’d be sticking around after the workshops were done to attend the fashion show being held on campus.

Intermountain Weavers Conference in Durango, Colorado

And what do guilds do? They organize workshops, retreats, and classes. They write books and magazine articles and produce videos. Bands of merchants selling the hot wares follow this tribe around to encourage further consumption and great new projects yet to be spun, frogged, carded, and strewn about as dozens of UFOs – Un-Finished Objects.

Intermountain Weavers Conference in Durango, Colorado

Shibori is an ancient Japanese fiber art similar to the Rajashtahni and Gujarati craft of Bandhani. These two styles of dyeing can involve an incredible amount of handwork. Small or even larger segments of cloth are wrapped, stitched, folded, twisted, and bound with string; at times, hundreds, even thousands, of the wrapped bundles are applied to a piece of cloth. This slows down and can stop the dye from reaching all of the cloth as it is dipped in dye to produce beautiful patterns. Now, think of where you may have seen or heard of a cloth that is a descendant of this process. It sounds a bit like Bandhani; how about the good old Bandana? Bet you didn’t know that it wasn’t the hippies of the 1960s who invented Tie Dye.

Intermountain Weavers Conference in Durango, Colorado

From furry heads to hot bodies. What kind of fibery workshop/festival event would be complete without a fashion show? A bad one, the Intermountain Weavers didn’t disappoint. This 80-something-year-old babe stole the show with her soon-to-be trendy again swimsuit that dragged out the wolf whistles. Betty relished the attention, strutting her figure while notching up the temperature in the theater another few degrees. She pranced left, sashayed right, and flaunted every bit of sexy she could muster.

The San Juans

South of Silverton, Colorado in the San Juan Mountain range

Caroline will be busy all day with her workshop, leaving me to do the proverbial “whatever.” Whatever for me is to go out and laze about in the verdure. I couldn’t ask for better weather, bluer skies, or more dramatic scenery. I love the San Juan Mountain range. There is something about these mountains that speaks to me more than almost any other I have traveled through and over here in the lower 48 states. The San Juans feel more accessible and more intimate compared to, say, the sub-range of the Rocky Mountains that make up Glacier National Park. Don’t get me wrong, Glacier is beautiful, but there seems to be more to be seen here in the San Juans for the casual passerby who may not have the time to really get out and explore the mountains.

The old mining town of Silverton, Colorado seen from a road high above the valley.

Those tiny specks down in the valley make up the old mining town of Silverton, Colorado. It was a mere 48 miles (77km) from Durango up to Silverton, and still, I required more than 2 1/2 hours to make my way this far. There are meadows along the way that beg those susceptible to such messaging to stop, get out of the car, and check out the lilypads covering the surface of small ponds or the wildflowers punctuating the landscape. There are two other popular methods that allow one to travel slower from Durango to Silverton; the first is the Durango & Silverton Narrow Gauge Railroad – it takes 3 1/2 hours to chug up the hill. The other method is to use a bicycle. I have no idea how long that takes, but passing some of them while I was doing only 20mph, my guess is they were lucky to be making a mile an hour up some of the steep mountain grades.

Wildflowers along a dirt road north east of Silverton heading to Eureka, Colorado

Not really knowing where I would ultimately end up, I was just following the road. At a fork where to the left I would be on my way to Ouray, I veered right to visit Silverton. At the end of town, I noticed that the road kept on going. Caroline and I had never ventured this far northeast of the downtown area. Quickly, the road loses the pavement and becomes a very well-maintained dirt road. To the left of the road is the Animas River; melting snowfields and waterfalls running out of the mountains bordering this trail are feeding the river – I need to take note to return and spend some days camping out here.

The wreckage of a former mine works northeast of Silverton, Colorado

And now you know why this old dirt road is out here: I am in mining country. As far as I can tell, there is no more mining out here, and certainly not at this wreckage of a former mining site. Off the beaten path, away from the popular National Historic District of Silverton, which is already far removed from America’s big cities, it’s a difficult picture to draw in one’s mind how busy these trails were 140 years ago as men became rich hauling ore out of these mountains. Towns would spring up for a few moments, becoming home to thousands before they would disappear back into the scenery with few remnants to remind us of a way of life long gone.

An old mine works in the ghost town of Eureka, Colorado

Eureka, I found it. I didn’t actually find anything much, but I did arrive in the ghost town of Eureka – and the end of the road for me. A steep, narrow road is only recommended for those with 4-wheel drives or all-terrain vehicles that continue out of town. That road heads up to Animas Forks, another old mining ghost town, but one with a claim to fame. Animas Forks features the ruins of a three-story home once owned by Thomas Walsh, who bought and gifted the famous Hope Diamond to his daughter for a wedding present. It’s but a short drive up that trail at only 4.6 miles, but I play it safe, not wanting to push my little Kia too far.

The road to Ouray, Colorado

Back on the pavement, I shift speed, going from 5mph to the blazing 20mph I was traveling before my Silverton detour. Caroline won’t be finished before 5:00 p.m., so I have time to lounge about. This corner in the road looks as good as any to stop for a moment to enjoy the landscape. Somebody will make millions someday when they figure out that roadside hammocks for rent would be a goldmine in places like this.

A cascade that flows under the road through a natural hole in the rock is seen here where it emerged just a few feet above this photo

If you don’t pay attention when traveling north, you just might miss this. This is a cascade flowing out of the mountains next to a small, rough road. The water flows right through a natural hole bored into rock and emerges 40 feet away from its cave. The highway department went ahead and built the road right over the rock bridge. The pullout is often very busy with travelers moving south, vying to get a good shot of the cascade from the road as they approach this bend in the road. As I stood there trying to get a photo, some stranger walking by told me how his friend found a gold nugget here last year. Not too far a stretch, really, as this area had some of America’s richest gold mines at one time.

The town of Ouray, Colorado

End of the road for my day trip – Ouray, Colorado. It took me 6 hours to travel 67 miles (108km), and you thought I was joking about my speed. Caroline and I have meant to return to Ouray for many a year. Down in that village, you are in one of the most idyllic hamlets in America. If I had one complaint, it would actually be two complaints: no McDonald’s and no Starbucks. Perfection is just a latte and a set of golden arches away. Just kidding, seriously. Do you think the guy who will eat Burmese pig ear salad and loves kimchee needs Mickey D’s? The coffee, on the other hand…

Intermountain Weavers Conference in Durango, Colorado

The drive back to Durango took less than two hours. Caroline’s class was winding down. She is taking a class with John Marshall, a noted textile artist from California, to learn about Katazome, a Japanese textile dyeing technique that involves applying rice resist paste to a piece of fabric with stencils. Once the paste has dried, pigments or dyes can be painted onto the fabric.

John Marshall at Intermountain Weavers Conference in Durango, Colorado

Here is John Marshall preparing more rice-resist paste in a Japanese mortar and pestle bowl.

Intermountain Weavers Conference in Durango, Colorado

Dinner tonight was eaten in the college cafeteria (the Intermountain Weavers Conference took place in Fort Lewis College, Durango). No wonder college students from the Midwest have such boring tastes when it comes to diet. We were sticking around to listen to a keynote address in the hottest auditorium I have ever sweat in (the building had no air conditioning and huge fans were brought in because of the heat wave we are currently experiencing). The speaker was noted Shibori expert and educator Yoshiko Iwamoto Wada. Her talk was fascinating as she walked us through the foremost icons in Japanese fiber design working today and the ancient techniques they are trying to keep alive in these days of mass production. Afterward, we had a little more time to dive into the art exhibits hosted by the conference. The basket sculpture in the photo above was created by our friend Sharie Monsam of the Telarana Fiber Arts Guild.

Intermountain Weavers Conference in Durango, Colorado

Vegetarian trophy heads. I didn’t see this one coming. For those who enjoy a little stuffed head taxidermy of a trophy kill but would like to be animal cruelty-free while admiring the beast mounted on the wall, try knitting your own. That’s just what this young 22-year-old woman, Syndi Roberts, did. I wonder if I found a dead bear someday out on the trail that died of natural causes, and I shorn that old bear to bring the fiber home to Caroline. Could she spin my bear fur into yarn and knit me up a bear head? I’d imagine that I would be the envy of all my tree-hugging buddies.

Intermountain Weavers Conference in Durango, Colorado

We enjoyed lingering in the exhibit, which was staffed by volunteers who were probably happy to see us finally leave. Finally, we were on our way back to Vallecito.

Vallecito Reservoir at night in Bayfield, Colorado

This last photo was our view upon getting back to our cabin; guess there won’t be any kayaking today, either.