Presentation includes short videos of dZi projects in this spectacular corner of the world and the amazing people that live there.

For more information contact Nathan Ward 719-221-1731

Earth & People is a new theater and gallery created by one of Salida’s favorite adventure junkies Nathan Ward.  Nathan has documented many remote regions of the world in photographs and images and is now sharing these adventures in his new space on F street beside Salida Mountain Sports. – ss

 P H O T O S  (SLIDESHOW)

As we move into the supposed new energy economy it’s startling to consider the amount of beauty that will be left behind —beauty that is a result of America’s last great revival. Unfamiliar with the backwaters of New Mexico and Arizona I presumed before departing that there would be more respect for the parts of America that can be credited for literally building this country; the gas stations, bus stops and neon signs that made it possible to cross this vast country. But, I came to understand that, with rare exceptions, it is the remoteness, the scale, and the toughness of the country that will not allow an art deco filling station to be established as a shrine to post-war American ideals. 

We only tasted a bit of this historic highway, but squeezed every bit of kitschy cactus water we could on this drive from Salida to Tucson. Crossing the border from New Mexico into Arizona, the wind was gusting to almost seventy miles-per-hour. Massive tumbleweeds came through the dust storms and lodged themselves against old trucks and retired machinery as I filled the van with gas, peering over my collar at the endless horizon north and south, then north again. We’d been hopping on and off the interstate since ol’ Route 66 no longer goes uninterrupted cross-country. At this windswept stopover the world was yellow-grey and even Bullwinkle, a hearty western traveler, squinted downwind. We were taking in the predictable scenery of chain restaurants and hotels. But, the joy of a road trip is that it allows for the time to explore those extra few miles off the highway strip, and with little hope for a pool in the kind of hotels we sought, the weather was dandy.

On this evening we stumbled into the WigWam Hotel, on another the El Rancho, or possibly the Cottonwood. Each retro stop provided a glimpse of what makes America great; other travelers who have made the detour as well. I exchange nods with a dad who clearly did Elvis impressions professionally, and whose kids sported splended chops. These are not the same people we encounter at an art museum, but the feeling is the same; a certain “can you believe what we are witnessing” that, in this environment has even more gravity with so few people around. Our beds are less comfortable, and on this trip the heat worked either too well, or not at all. But, the cafes offered steak and eggs and waitresses from another time. We often wait a little longer, but patience is in ample supply when you are “off the interstate,” and the menus are emblazoned with silouettes of Saguaros, teepees and tired cowboys.

The car is a tool to see the country and get you closer to it. This is not a new refrain for some travelers, nor for our family. But somehow, this highway defines the road trip. Passing through the painted dessert you stop, and instinctively sit on your hood as you let the wind blow through you. When you pull back on the road, there is space to let you car accelerate a little faster. In our case, to feel the pull of all six cylinders. 

Unless you are traveling through inclimate weather, the drive screams for a convertible or at least some fins, but we settled for a Labrador. Our station wagon is a third-hand, Detroit-made Econoline with many miles. Our pop-up camper no less unique than the fold-down seats on the “camper-version” of the Nash in it’s day. 

As we passed through reservations and curio stops in search of our first real Saguaro Cactus we were reminded how our vacations tend to revolve around themes rather than destinations. Last year we decided to drive north and west until we saw a whale (we ended up in borrowed sea kayaks with a pod of Orcas surrounding us). In this case, we were driving route 66 until was saw Saguaros, those massive cactus unique to the Sonoran Dessert who can live for 200 years and reach heights of over fourty feet. These were less terrifying than the whales.

At the farthest arc of our spring tour, Tucson’s sprawl was a harsh reminder of what we have become, and what we have apparently been striving for with our car culture. If the cars of yesteryear could talk, they’d rejoice at the endless miles of suburbia in these southwestern metropolises —millions of cars. Though We enjoyed the area around Tuscon, our heavy steed simply wanted to get on the blue ribbon and get out of town. Back to a simpler life, where America rusts and watches. There are no stop lights. Only wind and sun.

This trip was inspired by a recon mission via Amtrak across the Southwest last year. We saw the El Rancho from the train (see my pictures) and knew we had to stay there someday.We did more than take in the scenery on this trip. For a complete run-down, shoot me a note. Mountain biking and good food were a major themes. We also saw Karchner Caverns, a massive air and space museum, hippy shops, two national parks and plenty of roadrunners.