prints by Jeannie, George, Gretchen and LORRIE (recd fall 2004!) Send photos!

Only a monkey could miss signs with banana peels like these!   (oops) photo by Lorrie	"Most historic tent” How many simians and coat hangers does it take to pitch Dick's original REI Co-op tent?  Dick: “My red tent went on the Wind Rivers trip (August 1968?). We stayed about 2 weeks and climbed one peak. Lots of rain. We packed out.  Half went river rafting where it was warm.  Half went to the Tetons, hiked partway up the Middle Teton (or the South?), pitched camp.  We woke up to 6 inches of snow (early September).  We hiked back down.  Then back to Champaign."
Flat Tops view near Coffee Pot Springs (jth)	Garrry and Dick search for a 14er photo by Lorrie
Staging area: camp entrance	Garry's '74 Scout  Clearly "most historic vehicle"
Friday night arrivals: Wagners at home on the road	Saturday arrivals: George and Terry
	Following the sun, morning sharing  coffee, stories and photos
Curt'n'John stuffing	Lorrie stuffing
Onlookers advise John re cranky stove  (nothing changes, eh?)  [photo jth]	John, Jeannie and Curt studying photo by Lorrie
Jeannie – Lorrie - Gretchen  Lorrie's photo	Lorrie at ease  [photo jth]
Garry listening to concert - photo by Lorrie	Dick
Terry - Lorrie - Garry  by Jeannie using Lorrie's camera	photo by Lorrie
High tech moment - jeannie at the laptop (digital by GF)	Concert:  Where's Cindy!  photo by Lorrie
LIVE!! Jesu Joy of Man's Desiring, Leclair and more! Mountain Concert Extraordinaire!	Gretchen by Lorrie

Clouds roll in; time to go.
Last morning: dark clouds to south.
photo by Lorrie
 

One of many Historic Group Photos from the last morning (minus Cynthia who tended to appear after dark!!)
9 simians, 8 cameras!
Garry, John, Curt, Terry, Geo,
Lorrie, Gretchen, Jeannie, Dick

Awaiting Rambles from others--here's Jeannie's:

FRIDAY afternoon, the 14th, on heels of heavy rain across Utah, drying out and supplying in Grand Junction, I headed up to the Flat Tops.
    The road was simian worthy--no blinking.  Although the campsite "wasn't where it shudda been", found it eventually.  As it grew later I hastily posted Illini signs— posing an “SOS” didn't seem like a good idea--and banana peels on aspen by the turn off.  (Due to earlier well-intended-from-memory directions, only keenly observant simians caught these critical markers.)  Joining the flood of weekend hunters tearing across the Flat Tops, I raced in the now muddy RAV (non 4 WD) between Deep Creek Overlook and Coffee Pot Springs making sure no simians/vehicles had gone astray.  On alert for red broncos and maroon campers, I met the new generation of Denver Grotto folks camping and caving nearby!  (Good sign--other non-hunters!)
Just at sunset, the Wagner camper with Minnesota plates pulled in, to gun blasts from the next ridge.  Welcome to the Wild West where it's (always) hunting season!
    Two or more gathered--Rendezvous 2002 official!  Despite autumn and the tail end of a big, wet, storm, the summer fire ban was still in effect. (Recent charred slopes near Glenwood Springs--none near the rendezvous.)  I yearned to jaw around a welcoming campfire.  However, not wishing to attract law enforcement or offend USFS abiders (one of the rare pluses of rebellious Idaho Independence is this aging free spirit is a relative lightweight --target of mere driving-too-slow warnings in a neo-nazi state), my dream will have to be fulfilled another time.  (Sloth, soggy wood and wind didn't encourage me either.)
    [Came prepared to honor and appreciate the variety of levels of authority recognized as we gathered 30 years later.  For example, my respect for the US Forest Service is based on working for nearly a year with an outstanding staff on the Mt. Baker- Snoqualamie Forest as well as spending a somewhat miserable year drafting while surrounded by smokers in the San Juan National Forest office (Durango, CO.)  Rebel that I am, I felt it was a higher calling to sit around a campfire with old friends, than honor soggy USFS orders posted before September rains!  However....]
    After establishing the camper, Curt and Gretchen joined me at the new camp table (acquired after admiring Lorrie unfold one a few years back).  They'd spent the previous night with their old mountaineering friend Al Ossinger—a name I recognized immediately--in Denver.  While the Coleman heated water, they enjoyed "Subways" and we began reintrodutions, starting with the common ground of enjoying Subway sandwiches.  Then onto remembering who we were when we were last together, working into who and where we now are!  Big job, particularly when yours truly continues to remember beans!  About a 34 years year gap!
    The evening was cold, dark and damp.  Soon we crawled into our respective digs.  From my trusty dome tent, I smiled as, long into the night, I heard laughter from the camper.  (Curt alerted me he's a night owl, in the habit of taking advantage of late night computer hours from the college!)

SATURDAY, the 15th

    Saturday dawned sunny; Curt and Gretchen scouted the area in daylight.  "Where're the 14ers?", Curt was the first of series to inquire.  (Shudda pointed south towards the Maroon Bells.)  "Nice aspen, though!"  Since the thought of camping and clinging to the slopes of a narrow, dark mountain valley in September had no appeal to me, I opted for the high, wide, flat, sunny meadows of the Flat Tops.  (Unsimian choice!)
About the time we wondered whether we'd have the campsite to ourselves (and I began to like the idea), troops began pulling in.  Terry Courtright and Garry Patterson convoyed from Denver.  Dryly Terry said the ascent in the RV was "interesting", but nothing compared to a passing on a narrow Florida bridge without a millimeter to spare!  In retirement, Terry and family have become travel and RV experts!  Garry's trusty rusty scout made yet another trek to 10,000'.  Savvy wives had given their blessings to the outing--hope to meet more simian padners in the future!
    No way to describe how amazing and grand it was to see folks after 30 years!
George Fredericks and Dick Stutzke had spent the night in Glenwood Springs, but didn't pull in until mid afternoon.  I've been in touch with George since Illinois--he'd come through Boise a few years ago and helped move again, but I hadn't seen Dick in Forever.  Perhaps George only mentioned to a few of us his mother's very recent transition made getting away for a few days most attractive.
    In warm afternoon sun, over bananas, cameras and photo albums, we opened and made haste to fill the 30 year gap.  Often we went a lot further back than that, past siblings and parents, to the provinces and bergs (burgs?) of our roots--ach! heavy Teutonic talk.  Safely upwind, we admired Curt's original expedition parka.  Garry brought his carbide lamp.  Terry, we learned, is a crack archivist; he revealed never seen before newspaper articles from the New Year's '67 Mt Harvard expedition, plus more Banana Peels, as well as impeccable family photo albums!  Relocating chairs frequently according to taste and dress, we tracked the sun through the trees as we shared turning points of lives.  Many Kodak (and digital) moments enthusiastically recorded this first afternoon together.  (i.e. bananas above.)
    Garry's modern tent was pitched to the side of "front" camp.  Dick, however, had managed to find and bring his red, vintage REI tent--minus a few parts!  All joined him in the "back aspen grove" for the historic tent revival with coat hanger pole joints.
    Later in the afternoon, several of us stretched travel legs, wandering up the road to see if the Denver cavers were "home".  Ever vigilant for Simian vehicles, I noticed what looked like Lorrie's Silver Volvo.  Running down the hill, I eventually found both Lorrie Hough (McCoy) and John Conley.  Although they’d never met—Wait, Wait! What about the mysterious summer 1971 slides including both of them--they encountered each other on the road, as it were, cruising (and passing by) Simian signs!  Now, only Cynthia (for sure) was missing.
Soon John and Lorrie's contemporary vehicles and tents joined the encampment.
    As I recall that first night Curt and Gretchen stirred up a big pot of something traditionally Simian for the group.  How welcome!  We shared this and that, laughing as "food" stories came out of the past.
    Towards dark, Terry set up the much anticipated, first SOS Rendezvous slide show, outside the RV and began with a carousel of his best.  "I'd forgot" (my mantra) how much history we shared, how many people in Boulder I'd met through Terry; how Lorrie and I dropped in on him just before the draft board pulled him out of grad school.  Great to learn about years in between.
    There were more carousels, much hilarity, but what I "remember" most about the evening, or, for that matter, the rendezvous, was how much "I'd forgot"!  "Who's that?"  We'd all shrug (frozen, I now realize.)
In order to pull off the Rendezvous, I forced myself to ignore how cold it is at 10,000' in September.  (How well I know Colorado after about 13 years there!)  Sitting under the stars, while a beam of light projected slides onto screen and trees, slides, which for the most part, hadn't been enjoyed since they were taken, was magical!  But it was also bloody cold.  Feeling responsible as I did for being sure everyone was ok and having a good time, I got more and more miserable under the stars.  Whose idea was this anyhoo!  Others slipped into the dark...
Towards the end of the show, headlights turned in from the road and out of the foretold Subaru came: Cynthia Vann!!!  After the long anticipated meeting and greeting with Cynthia, I listened, shivering uncontrollably, as Garry, Curt and Cynthia chatted by the cold light of the Coleman lantern.  Hours later, in the tent, I still shivered hypothermically!  Arg, as Paul Huizinga would have said.
    No accident I was never a part of any of the infamous simian mountaineering expeditions! I was and remain a whining whimp.

SUNDAY, the 16th

One of my fondest memories comes from Sunday morning.
    Most of us hadn't been together in three (3!) decades.   As hours went on, the more it seemed like nothing had changed.  Feeling responsible as I did for hospitality, I tried to make sure everyone was fed and keep hot water going for tea/coffee/cocoa, over which to socialize.  Wisdom and experience suggested most of us had either brought the same old reliable/unreliable gear, none at all, or new/untested gear.  Just in case, I threw in extra tent and food...  Having read old Banana Peels as I scanned and posted (plus numerous ancient personal correspondence units once called “letters” as in pen, paper and stamp?), I’d had the advantage of jogging my questionable memory and reviewing the simian spirit, glorious and less than.
    When I saw John, who’d brought gear by plane then rental car, unpack a total camping outfit upon arrival, I was awed as well as shamed, and comforted that nothing had changed:  John always did have his gear together, didn't he!  As we gathered around stoves talking and drinking coffee and tea, I discretely observed John still working to start what looked like a new stove, while most everyone else sipped and supped.  Determinedly he turned down offers of hot water.  I repressed a flicker of compassion and offering two-heads-are-better-than-one—2 simian minds?—wisely refraining from interfering with the highly self-reliant, superiorly clever!  How well I know rip and crumple, scent of Coleman, strike, burst of flames--followed by silence!  (In spite of the last major fireworks--attempted an alarming demo during mom’s yard sale in Durango some years ago--my non-functioning, original primus stove still sits in the garage.  May fix yet.  Ha.)
    Next thing I noticed, John pulled out a page of instructions! Studying an exploded diagram, he announced aloud a spring was missing; the stove was kaput. (In my wildest dreams I can't imagine having instructions with anything!)  This was too much!  Having recently retrieved a spring from a ballpoint pen, I was shocked to think of John B Conley throwing in the towel so casually.  I spoke up, threatening to root in the car, but didn’t move.  In a flash, John recovered and the stove was purring.  Just like old times.  Cantagerous gear?  Just another challenge for a resourceful simian.
    We stood and sat with respective beverages around the imaginary campfire for hours looking through photo albums, sharing homes, kids and grandkids, cats, dogs, birds, friends and travels. Dick shared a draft chapter of his book. C&G shared photos and stories of Israel. Terry shared family travels everywhere.  Garry and Lorrie listened.
    Reconstructing evolution of the Simians led to stories from FL his-self.  Early in the Rendezvous, Curt seemed to need to confess his single, self-centered motive for starting the outing group: to recruit vehicles to provide himself transportation to the mountains he loved.  I shouldn’t have been shocked; but I was. (I was nonplussed by repeated claims of focusing on recruiting women.) Despite the fact that Curt had already modeled his original Gerry(?) Expedition parka, and itemized accountings of Simian biz in Banana Peels, I had missed the obvious!  All about money!  Eureka!
    Rewinding and summarizing: in the beginning Curt was severely bitten by love of mountains and mountaineering while summer schooling in Boulder, Colorado in the early ‘60s. School was dropped from the following summers in Colorado. Having done my share of acquiring used outdoor equipment while living in Boulder (1968-1975—ahh, the good olde daze--including become 3rd generation owner of a Kelty pack (which of course I still have) pre-owned and magic markered by pre-Simian Ron Cox) I was particularly amused by one tale. Included in one of Curt’s used gear acquisition packages was of all things: a sports car!  [One heckofadeal!] The car, however, stayed in Colorado; Curt returned to grad school at Illinois vehicle-less, in hot pursuit of wheels for outings. Shamelessly he confessed to recruiting now infamous fellow Graduate Student Vehicles (i.e. the Windecker Pontiac; the Zvengrowski Rambler).
    Having heard Simian roots from The Source, we went on to many more questions, laughs and stories. (Curt, like Bob Smeaton, seems to concur that the Simian name came later, probably from the house of Zvengrowski- Wagner.)  Along with everything else that has slipped from mind, if I ever knew, I’d forgot who roomed with who back then; who held the parties; Curt patiently and soberly observing recruits learn to drink and party.  My wonder at the passion of one man to ignite, teach, spread and maintain the mountaineering spirit from the cornfields of Illinois for so many years grew into amazement and appreciation as we reminisced.  What had I known?
    When Cynthia finally returned in the afternoon, we headed over to Deep Creek overlook to enjoy the view north.
    Mornings and evenings rendezvousées took advantage of the viewpoint behind camp. Looking south, across the valley towards Mt Sopris, Lorrie and I tried to catch up on the years. We agreed how much we were enjoying seeing everyone again—hadn’t changed much, had we! I credit Lorrie for pouring gas on the spark to motivate the search for Simians along with George’s offer to show up, gods willing, and host a website. “Where are they now” reverberated in my head as I dug. Amazingly, the same humor and interests that connected us back in the ‘60s still seemed to be there! We chortled, treasuring in particular Garry’s ever-ready enthusiasm to summit the small hill across the road, despite being reminded he’d already been there. That’s the spirit!  Been there? Let’s do it again!
    Evening meals: I was duly impressed (tho I could hardly look) when George and Dick heated a beans and macaroni combo [most authentic simian fare?]. Minimalist, stove-free, Garry tended towards cold food. Terry dined RV style, joining the group with multi-course, “real” food. Newly professional caterer Lorrie (also non stove), assembled meals with the gourmet touch.  Curt and Gretchen tended towards economical, nutritious traditional Minnesota hotdish. I mainly recall eating the same Boise home grown rhubarb cobbler I tried and more or less failed to interest others in, meal after meal. Another cool evening slide show—from some of Curt’s earliest, well ordered slides to John and Lynn’s travels in Afghanistan.  Wrapped in sleeping bag; much better.

Monday the 17th

    Although for Gretchen the highlight was still to come, Monday morning’s outdoor classical concert by the Wagners was it for me!  (I was delighted when I learned the violins had come out from MN; Peter Z: we missed your guitar and viola!) Gretchen and her violin have long blessed the Marshall community orchestra, Curt joining on occasion. Curt, I also learned, once starred as fiddler in “Fiddler on the Roof”. A more perfect fiddler than Rabbi Wagner cannot be imagined!
    What an indescribable treat: Bach, Leclair… sunshine, pines and aspen. Aspen (Music Festival) eat your heart out. The audience circled camp chairs around the well-prepared musicians, who anchored canonical scores from breezes with clothespins.  Although Curt and Gretchen were apologetic, personally I found being a listener indescribable bliss (as I had hearing practice strains waft through the trees from time to time.) Thank you, Gretchen and Curt.
    Between composers we took turns taking the trowel to one of the finest outdoor latrines ever (to quote LHM & others). Thank you, unknown benefactors!
    All day clouds foretold change in weather. (Could it be an authentic simian experience without a “little change” in the weather? Would it have been a real fall in the Rockies?”  Personally I’d be delighted to have perfect weather—but then I’m an unusual whiner and can’t speak for others.)
    That afternoon, using weather as a worthy excuse, Terry and Garry opted to head down before the road was wet again. The rest of us we piled into George’s 4 wheeler and John’s rented sedan and 4 wheeled towards a highly recommended and elusive trailhead. Despite years in “the wild West”, Jeannie has no appreciation of 4 wheeling (or, for that matter, climbing 14ers, camping in the snow, rain…). She whined and backseat drove unforgivably, knowing full well whining is verboten. In retrospect, perfect simian ingredients—an elusive goal and a whiner.
    Afterwards George hustled Dick off the plateau to fly west.
    Following a day of monumental group indecision (ranging from: Curt’s I’m not going in the pool to my gotta warm up, to no opinion) that evening we again piled in the sedan. John ably negotiated the treacherous descent to find Cynthia and Chuck in their full sized RV parked in Glenwood Canyon. We viewed early Wagner 8mms-converted-to-video, then dashed to Glenwood Hot Springs pool, just before closing.  Gretchen (this proved to be her highlight), Cynthia and I were more or less briefly in hog heaven--didn’t realize until later what a good sport Lorrie had been about the water).  John and Chuck appeared to enjoy themselves.  Curt watched, high and dry.
    I’m no longer sure when the first drops of rain started—about the time we dove into our respective homes for the night. As wind blew stronger and raindrops beat harder on the rainfly of my REI dome tent, I tossed and turned, wondering about all the stuff I’d left out in the kitchen area.  Were storage bin lids tight? Would the nearby Wagners get the toilet paper out of the rain? Would the large rainfly I’d strung near the eating area blow away or flap all night? Knowing Colorado at 10,000’ as I do, I knew when rain got quieter it was turning to snow. Concerned about the fate of precious simian photos, and books in the bins, and of course, interested in “recycling tea”, I pulled on boots, and stepped out with flashlight, into the soggy, white world.  Headed towards the cooking area, only to realize perhaps I wasn’t-- err...couldn’t really see where I was going. Not wanting to repeat the never to be forgot experience of long, long ago having spent the night wandering and post-holing in shorts around the cabin at Brainard Lake in a winey fog, after a late night visit to the outhouse, I retreated and relied on prayer. God wouldn’t want to ruin those old banana peels and black and whites I’d brought all the way to Colorado, would She?  Noooo.
    Like a dream, snow was gone from camp in the morning. Distant peaks had been dusted. Mighta been the only one to see it in camp, thanks to the late night foray.  Started drying out while Lorrie and John packed up. Felt better when I learned Lorrie worried and got damp too; indeed misery loves company. John’s set up had been fine. The toilet paper was sodden. After fond goodbyes, Lorrie hastened back to Denver and John wandered that direction rightly mumbling something about the weather. Three sunny September days came to a close.
    Curt, Gretchen and I decided spend more time together at lower elevations, and so we did.
    Philosophizing as I wait for others to fill in gaps, send photos and corrections…. I like to think timing is divinely ordained, propitious. The Colorado workshop that originally determined the 2002 Rendezvous date fell through; Harry didn’t quite make it; Paul Brickett hadn’t been found by a few days; others haven’t been found at all; some are no longer around; and others, like participants in 28/35/42Up, chose “pass”. However ten of us who’d met during that relatively brief window of time that we shared so intensely—caving, canoeing, climbing, socializing—took a chance. We laughed enough for all whose lives wove in and out with us.

Could it happen again? Whooo knows! The Flat Tops are about the only place I know with beautiful, available, fee-free primitive camping for a dozen, near what has turned out to be the epicenter (Denver) of located Simians! After 8 years in Idaho, I’m slowly getting to know it. Idaho anyone?  Ponderosa State Park near McCall (fees) is gorgeous; as is Bear Valley to the east, near the Sawtooths. Then there’s the Jarbridge Wilderness of NV…. Nominations for place and time open!

OCTOBER 19, 2002

FROM: Curt Wagner
Dear Jeannie,
    ...
    Let me (us) second all of Paul's praises and thanks to you for all of your efforts (a true labor of love!) to pull off the website and the long search for old Simians that resulted in the first Great Simian Rendezvous!
You mentioned complaints that we didn't meet on the slopes of a 14'er this past summer. Well, as I mentioned to you last summer, I (we) have a number of suggestions for appropriate sites for G.S. Rendezvous II. Perhaps I  should circulate some of those suggestions to the old Simian gang out there in cyberspace and begin to pre-plan for 2003. For auld lang syne I would be willing to plan all the logistical details, including genuine original Simian mountain cuisine (highlighted by Seidel-like dried 'food' and banana flavored Mt. Logan bread, etc...). I would also be willing to do a pre-planning and coordinating of slide shows (which could easily last for many years of annual G.S.Rs. because, as I reminded Jon Conley, we've all had little Simian-offshoot trips spanning the last 25-35 years! Some, like Jon's, have been all over the globe; we won't lack for travelogues!). I'll also try to get our official Simian Archivist (Terry C) to track down the facts about the devolution (dissolution?/assimilation?) of the S.O.S. at U of I. Should be most revealing! In the meantime we can be dreaming about the G.S.R II...next summer???...   w/All the Hopes Fit to Dream,  FL 

---

Friday Oct 18, 2002
FROM: brickett@telocity.com

Dear Jeannie,

I just came across your web site last week, while I was searching for my name.  It’s the most interesting thing I’ve seen on the Internet. [ed likes to hear that!]  Thank you for going to the trouble to put it together.

I’m not sure you remember me, as I started with the Simians Fall, 1969.  I went on the Colorado trip that Xmas and met you at your apartment.  You might recall taking me to the emergency room with Peter Z. after a funny thing happened when I first tried skiing (it put me in stitches).  Although I have a permanent reminder of this trip on my leg, it was great seeing the original description in the Banana Peel, although the publication date, Jan. 1969, was incorrect (it was Jan. 1970).  I returned to Boulder a few weeks later for semester break, which is described in the Feb. 11, 1970 BP.   I think the only outing we both did was x-country skiing then, which ended having to bypass the train wreck. [Yes! A RR crossing was closed below East Portal.  In response, a ramp was cleverly constructed, in cold and dark, out of boards from uhhh... rr car, in order to get John Stover's small car across the tracks above the closing!  the ed]

I have attached two pictures from the Flatiron climb, which was wonderfully described by Diana’s article in the Feb 70 BP.  The other pictures are of Simians in action at Portland Arch or Devil’s Lake, as indicated in the file names, and include the subject’s name, if known (how could I forget her?).  ...  I also am enclosing a Vancouver newspaper article reporting Laura Jasch’s accident; unfortunately, I didn’t record the date.  I was very touched by your memorials.  I was saddened to find out about Paul Huizinga.  I was the other Paul in Harry Z.’s classic photo from the Crestone trip in 1970.

Personal information for your records:
After having to leave U of I following graduation in 1973, I found haven in British Columbia at Simon Fraser University until I ran out of degrees and a soft-money job in 1987.  While in B.C. I did occasional rock climbing and ski mountaineering and managed a few fiascos worthy of Simian merit [ed--be sure to save those for the next renunion!].  In 1987, I was sucked into the black hole of California, originally for a research job, then working for a start-up electronic publishing company.  I’m currently looking for “new employment opportunities”.  For outdoor adventures, the last ten years I have been doing mostly backpacking trips with a group “Desert Survivors” (desert-survivors.org) which leads trips in the Great Basin.  For almost that long, I have been living with Christina, whom I met on one of these desert trips.  We now have a house in San Jose, 509 Hull Ave, San Jose, 95125;  (408) 279-3129.

I would definitely like to see you and other Simians I knew if there is another reunion happening.  Thanks for all your work recently, and I'll never forget your hospitality and kindness years ago.

-Paul Brickett

---

Monday 30 Sep 2002 09:35:08 -0600

Dear Gretchen and Curt,
    thinking of you.  Wonderful to see you, camp, eat, sing with you.  look forward to hearing about your travels. i'll share mine, photos when they're done.  old scanner doesn't work with new computer.  yet.
    starting new classes, mostly volunteer this week.  changing of the seasons, so profound.  look forward to writing up travels and a new rendezvous page.  submissions for photos and stories welcome!
blessings,
jeannie h

Dear Jeannie,
    Just a quick note to let you know that we got home last Tuesday evening, September 24 after a restful Sabbath weekend at Gore Pass campground and then Rocky Mountain National Park. Our final night was spent in the stark beauty of Badlands National Park. We have fond memories of our time with you, especially our worship time in the Spirit with you on that last (Friday) morning in Utah. How was your last evening camping up that wash? (We had hiked all the way up it to the sculpted rocks at its head).
    Your idea to drive into Utah was certainly a great one (in hindsight)! I hope you've recovered enough to begin thinking about an expanded Simian Reunion II!! Thanks so much for all you did to make Reunion I happen with the few hardy enough to venture forth!    With the Love of Y'shua,   Curt

---

SEPTEMBER 29, 2002

FROM: John Conley
glad to hear you made it home safe and well.  I think we made the right decision to break camp on Tues, cause Weds was lousy with rain and wind (and I heard there was serious snow up at altitude).  I just poked around Tues
and spent the night in a mom-and-pop motel along the interstate.  Weds I drove VERY leasurely towards Denver, with a detour to go south and see the famous Camp Hale.  It was somewhat of a disappointment, since it turns out
there's nothing there but the traces of old foundations from the WWII buildings (all torn down by the Park Service in the name of "returning nature to nature") and a few monuments put up by the 10th Mountain Division Assn and the Boy Scouts explaining the history of Camp Hale and showing some pictures of how it was during the war years.  The Park Service also had a small display, that included a plea for donations to "restore" Camp Hale.
    When you read the fine print, however,  their intent is not to preserve and enshrine the military history, but rather to "return this sub-alpine valley/meadow to how it was before they build the army camp."  I suspect
there is a bit of friction between the Park Service and the 10th Mtn Div Assn over that issue.  Anyway, having now added Camp Hale to the list of places I've seen (as a friend of mine likes to say, "Of all the places I've
ever seen, Camp Hale (or fill in the name) is one of them!"), I got back on the interstate and drove to Idaho Springs and spent Weds night in another cheap motel, before driving to Denver airport Thurs morning for the flight home.

I shot about one and a half roles of slide film, and I've gotten them back from processing and they're UNDERWHELMING!  Mostly shots of the surroundings of where we camped and many shots of folks sitting around the common eating area while Curt and Gretchen were fiddling.  I'm sure my shots can't possibly add to the collection, and in fact I don't even have a photo of the whole group when we lined up and took pictures.  I don't know if I failed to have a picture taken on my camera (although I thought Dick took some for me so I could be in the scene), or if those pictures were on the last half of the second role that came back black!!!  Anyway, I'll be looking forward to seeing others' photos posted on the website.

That's all from here.  I spent the weekend getting my tent dry, etc, and then it was back to the work scene on Monday.  I'll tell Lynn you said "Hi," and tonight we're planning to set up the slide projector and run my pitiful slides so she can see what Simians look like.  Stay in touch and thanks a million for taking the initiative to organize such a great get-together.  I really enjoyed all aspects of it.

---

SEPTEMBER 27, 2002
From:    Tcxtwo@aol.com  [aka Courtrights!]
To:      heartctr@internetoutlet.net
CC:      krunchkaptain@mygfa.org

I got back and told Terry that everyone wanted my banana peels online so she went out and bought her new scanner and put everything on a file in Word documents, so you will find that attached.  Garry and I got back without any
trouble, sure had a good time seeing everybody.  We have decided we need to be here to help Terry's Mom move into her new home and that will not leave us enough time to get to Minnesota this year, will have to do it next year
instead.  Haven't told Curt yet, been waiting for everyone to get home, Terry says I should copy him with this e-mail.  There should be seven files, if not, something happened, let us know and we'll try again. See ya later--Terry---  Actually, we found the first compressed file would take 45 minutes to load so we aborted that.  Will have to try something else later.

---

Tuesday 17 Sep 2002 20:21:08 -0700 (PDT)
Subject:  i'll hate to miss my funeral because they then say such nice things about you
From:     Harry Zanotti <harryzanotti@yahoo.com>

hi jeannie,
   beaming good thoughts from hyperspace even though this message probably won't be read till after the
tadoo; but if your feelers are out there, you can hear my yodel.
   many thoughts from crashing at your place on pine st.(?) in boulder and the many things that followed.
the simians really opened up colorado for me and then for the family. and as they say, things havn't been
the same since. blow-a-way times and slide shows disguised as bed time stories (what dreams did follow). all experiences indeled like a tatoo we love to look at and always recall the times that more than left this proud mark. here's to all that were a part of it, for their love of the adventure we were and the beauty we shared.
                                   harry

---

Back to   SOS HOME PAGE (Unofficial, nat)