Colorful Colorado

Animas River, 09 AUG 15, South of
Durango, CO.

By now most have heard of the EPA disaster on the Animas River in Southwest Colorado. When I saw the news reports, videos, and pictures Friday morning, a part of me was saddened; another part was nostalgic. I naturally preferred nostalgia.

One of the best vacation decisions my dad made was a family vacation/hunting trip to the Centennial State, Colorado, in the late summer of 1973. We left early one morning driving to Denton, TX, making for a long first day. The next we drove through Amarillo on the way to Raton Pass, New Mexico. It is in Amarillo where the Big Texan Steak Ranch is located; home of the 72 oz steak. The trip from Dallas to Amarillo takes forever. I could not imagine crossing this barren land on horseback. I have no idea how George Strait thinks he could make it 'by morning up from San Antone'. Perhaps he was traveling light.

Welcome to Colorful Colorado sign from Raton Pass, NM into
Las Animas County, Colorado.

On the third morning, we crossed the Colorado State Line, and I felt at home. We traveled the entire state and on subsequent trips, ventured into neighboring states. The first left a lasting impression on me and I would travel back a total of 13 times. As a family, we made multiple trips, one with grandparents plus an aunt and two cousins, another trip with family and aunt, and various combinations thereafter. In the summer of 1988, my middle brother and I added our new brides to the family trip. We are quick learners and have not made another inclusive trip. Since then I have visited multiple times sans family, the last in 1994. It was during that trip while rafting the Class IV and V rapids on the Arkansas River, my health changed. In some manner, I guess it fitting that a river in my favorite state would play a role in changing my life.

I love our natural resources. God has richly blessed us from the beaches and waterways of my Florida Panhandle to the mountains and waterways of North Alabama, to my beloved Colorado. It was here I experienced a "Rocky Mountain High". A high more addictive than any plant, powder, or pill offers. The majestic mountains topped with their white crowns, and wildflower-covered meadows—my favorite flower is the Colorado Columbine—streams from the ice-cold snow runoff, to the fast-moving rapids of major rivers. You can raft, float, kayak, fly fish, or simply stand in awe of God’s creation. There is nothing more peaceful than to sleep on a moonlit, crisp, cool night beside a stream gurgling over stones smoothed and polished by centuries of moving water abrading their surface; the scent of evergreen mixing with the smoke of a smoldering bonfire; the call of a lone animal in the distance. A favorite campsite was SouthMineral Campground, just West of Silverton on the opposite side of a mountain that separates it from Telluride. A pass so rough, that the town got its name from a contraction of “To Hell You Ride”

Clear Lake, three miles North of South Mineral Campground.
Elevation: 11,940 feet. Photo credit: Author's father, 1983.

It was in Southwest Colorado, that we as a family left our troubles behind, grew closer—admittedly, sometimes a bit too close—and enjoyed what I call God's handiwork. In His infinite ability, He took a nano-milli-second longer to create a place more beautiful than man can even imagine. We love the area between Silverton, Ouray, Durango, and Telluride in the San Juan Mountain National Forest. Between Silverton and Durango, you travel US Route 550 which is part of the San Juan Skyway Scenic Byway. And you thought ‘Sally sold seashells by the seashore’ was a tange tongluar. Just say “San Juan Skyway Scenic Byway” several times. A shorter section between Ouray and Silverton is known as the “million-dollar highway” because of the breathtaking million-dollar views afforded by driving along the high peaks. The entire trip from Silverton to Durango runs parallel to the Durango and Silverton Narrow Gauge Railroad. Both travel alongside the Animas River. The Spanish explorer San Juan Maria de Rivera of Santa Fe was the first to explore the area and named the river Rio de Las Animas—the River of Souls. The trip affords you ample opportunities to view the river and even cross it several times. I have seen the river full of summer activity, bustling with life; kayakers slicing gracefully between the rocks, fisherman lining the banks casting their flies in the perfect eddy. This is contrasted to the winter scene, although the river is moving, there is a stillness, a tranquil peace. The unmarred, fresh snow frames the river, which is now even bluer. Winter normally represents death, but it is this scene that makes me feel more alive. It is this scene that made me want to preserve this river even more so. My soul belongs to God, but my heart belongs to this river and Colorado. Another river that had a lasting impact on me.

Railroad bridge over Animas River.

No matter where we hiked, camped, hunted, or fished, Dad always made sure we packed out what we packed in. We even picked up trash left by others. The natural resources should be cared for and managed, as God charged man to do in Genesis. Leaving them pristine for future generations to enjoy. From my early 20s, I always thought I would retire to Colorado where I could enjoy these scenes year-round. I knew for that to happen, I had to do my part in taking care of my corner of the world. No throwing trash out windows (rarely did this before—the commercial of the Indian, er, Native American crying really got me), picking up trash when I see it, throwing it all in trash cans. I thought, if I did my part then someone in Colorado would do theirs, and when I returned to Colorado in retirement, it would still be pristine. Kind of an ecological karma thing.

Before and After spill pictures.

When I close my eyes and visualize “Colorful Colorado”, I see the bluish-green hue of Blue Spruce trees, the white, cool bark of Aspen trees, the blues and purples of Columbines, the white of snow-capped mountains, the red in the soil and rocks, the olives and browns of the Eastern Plains, and the blues of the streams and rivers like the Animas. Of all the visualizations, I do not see mustard-colored waterways. Sadly, mustard yellow is now the color of the Animas River. Colorado has over 107,400 miles of waterway divided between 158 rivers and 72 streams. All but two rivers originate within the state borders. The rivers east of the Continental Divide travel to the Gulf of Mexico and the Atlantic Ocean. The rivers west travel to The Gulf of California and the Pacific Ocean. Until last week, only 1,300 miles of streams were polluted by acids remaining from gold mining. Now, we must add to that figure. Thankfully, the volume of water that flows in the river has pushed the yellowish water to the south of Silverton. The water north is beginning to run “blue” again, although some pools of yellow remain. As does many of the heavy metals released last week.

I have no idea how long it will take to reclaim the river. In the interim, I empathize with the residents of Southwest Colorado. It was a little over five years ago, that the Gulf Coast experienced the Deepwater Horizon oil spill. Some alarmists warned the Gulf Coast is lost. It will never be the same. Thankfully, it is returning to its former glory. So too, will this river. The earth has a way of reclaiming that which belongs to it. Just as wood rots, iron rusts, and grass claws its way through asphalt and concrete, God made a way for the Earth to survive man. We too will succumb to this; ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

Plains of East Colorado
looking West.

The state of Colorado got its name from the tint of a river. The name, Rio Colorado, the Colorado River. Colorado is an adjective for red, like blushing. If the state were named after the current color of a river, the Centennial State would be called Amarillo. If that was the case, I don’t think George Strait would have made it by morning.

ABC Report on Animas River spill. 10 AUG 15

Phrogs Phinal Phlight

CH-46 Helo-Casting US Marines.

On 01 AUG 2015, the United States Marine Corps ended its yearlong transition and bid “pharewell” to one of the most storied and historic airframes in all of USN/USMC aviation. The CH-46, “Sea Knight” known affectionately as the “Phrog” "phlew" its last official flight. The Phrogs Phinal Phlight. In a retirement ceremony, a Sea Knight of the Reserve Marine Medium Helicopter Squadron (HMM) 744 flew its last hop to the Smithsonian National Air and Space Museum in Chantilly, VA, where it will remain on loan from the National Museum of the Marine Corps.

Marines rappelling from CH-46.

In another AUG, back in 1961, I entered into this world. The following AUG (1962), the Phrog took its first flight. It entered service in 1964. The 46 has served aboard LHA/LST/LPD and deployed to FOBs in every conflict since Vietnam. Last year, Phrogs flew their last combat missions and returned to CONUS. Many confuse the 46 with the much larger US Army CH-47, also a tandem rotor helicopter, or “banana” helo. Because of its counter tandem rotors, there is no need for a tail rotor, and it can land on ice without sliding. Skilled pilots can land the “ass-end” of the Phrog on a building or mountain while keeping the forward part of the helo in a hover.

For the past 25 years, most of the men and women who piloted/crewed the helo had not even been born when the last helo rolled off the production line. The last 46 entered service in 1971. During its nine years of production, 524 units entered service in USN/USMC. The most current model is the 46F.

Marines perform Static Line Jump from CH-46.

Marines using SPIE under CH-46.

Marines "roping" from CH-46.

During its service life, the 46 supported several mission types. From disaster aid and relief to humanitarian operations to search and rescue, to the basics of movement of supplies, transporting personnel, and vertical replenishment (VERTREP). It also served in the most solemn of roles by removing the wounded and dead from the battlefield. During my time in USMC, I jumped/rappelled/roped/cast/SPIE’d out of UH-1s, CH-46s, and CH-53s. Because of the size of Force Recon teams, we normally used Hueys (UH-1) and 46s for our training missions. Typically, the 46 was crewed by a pilot, co-pilot, and crew chief/gunner, allowing for 22 combat-loaded Marines. I have made all types of static line jumps from a 46; “Hollywood” (no equipment), Equipment, Day, and Night. I have helo-cast into water (pilot travels at a “20 and 20”—twenty feet above the lowest point between crests, and 20 knots—we then push our Zodiac out the

CH-46 v CH-47 Profile View.

CH-46 v CH-47 Front View.

CH-46 v CH-47 Bottom View

lowered the ramp, then followed after) and performed wet recoveries (driving Zodiac into a helo that is hovering with ramp awash); rappelled from both the “hell hole” and off the ramp; “roped” (fast-rope) insertion, and SPIE’d (Special Patrol Insertion-Extraction). This is probably my favorite. You attach yourself to a rope that is affixed to the helo and you hang underneath while in flight, traveling up to 10 miles at 130 knots. I have a lot of fond memories of the Phrog.

Like old Marines, even equipment must leave active service and pass the torch to someone or something else. The 46, replaced is the dual tilt-rotor MV-22 Osprey. Much has been said about this airframe, but I think she will prove to be a force multiplier and will save a lot of Marines.

Author. 1987 at 29 Palms.
About to SPIE insert under CH-46.

I, like the 46, represent the Marine Corps' past. Our time in service is done. The current Devil Dogs and MV-22 represent the Marine Corps' future. To these Marines, I charge you to take care of your Marines, and always in ALL Ways, Charlie Mike.

Bravo Zulu Phrogs. May you always have Phair Winds and Phollowing Seas. (I could do this Phorever).

I shall remain, Semper Fidelis.

Marines Helo-Cast from CH-46.