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Colorful Colorado Central

Letter from Ray Schoch

Colorado Central – September 2003 – Colorado Central Magazine

Editors:

Four-color images are almost always a plus in a publication, but the cost is usually high, so I hope the move from spot color to four-color printing on some of Colorado Central’s pages turns out to be worth it or you and Martha will have trouble with the “…aside from making some money at home in our spare time…” part of your “corporate goal.” It seems especially effective to me on the covers, particularly on the front. I’m not sure that’s the case on the interior, however. Smaller photos (e.g., pages 8 and 9) do look better, but with low resolution (more-or-less an outgrowth of your paper stock?) images, I’m not sure printing them in four colors is really cost effective.

For comparison’s sake, I think the photo of the Grant store on page 15 shows up just as well in black and white as the railroad locomotive does on page 9, or the shots of June Hervert on page 16. The art work on pages 40 and 41, however, certainly looks better in color. Don’t get me wrong; humans see in color, and most of us who don’t have a family relationship to Ansel Adams will probably prefer to see color images instead of black-and-white ones. But I wonder if the increased cost will turn around and bite the two of you (or your subscribers) at some point.

I do miss the little locomotive on the cover, however. I’m not a train-buff/rail-fan of your caliber and expertise, but railroads have interested me since childhood, nonetheless, and I’d like to see the connection between the magazine’s title and the enterprise that provided the original reestablished if it can be done.

On the other hand, it’s your magazine, and I don’t even live in Central Colorado, so feel free to ignore any suggestions I may have. Unless the subscription price doubles in order to provide 4-color covers, this particular reader is still going to resubscribe, whether in color or black-and-white.

Ben Long’s piece is a testament to something — the power of advertising, the endurance of stereotypes, the gullibility of the public — regarding Harley-Davidsons. I checked the website of Rocky Mountain Harley-Davidson in Denver for prices. They didn’t list any for new bikes — “call the sales department” seemed to be the instruction of the day — but I got the following prices for used Harleys:

1. 2002 Super Glide Sport with 673 miles (a demo, I’d guess) — $14,000.

2. 2000 Softail Heritage with 4,792 miles — $18,000.

3. 2003 Heritage Springer with 789 miles (another demo?) — $21,000.

4. 200l SL1200C/1200 Custom with 1,663 miles — $10,000.

5. 2001 XLH 1200 Sportster with 2,202 miles — $9,500.

6. 1999 XLH 1200 Sportster with 4,990 miles — $8,000.

7. 2003 FLHTCUI Ultra Classic with 3,300 miles — $24,000.

8. 2002 FLHRCI (I’ve no idea what these “touring bike” designations mean) with 18,315 miles — $17,750.

9. 2001 FLTR Road Glide with 9,36l miles — $16,995.

10. 2000 FLHRCI Road King Classic with 6,110 miles — $18,500.

Perhaps I should add that it’s a testament to the impracticality of motorcycles that a 3-year-old “Softail” has less than 5,000 miles. For the most part, these are not everyday transportation, which pretty much undercuts the “lifestyle” characterization of Harley- Davidson advertising. The “rebellion” and “counterculture” image is likewise not supported by the prices for these machines. There are a lot of reliable automobiles made in 1999 available for less than the $8,000 asking price of #6. These are very expensive toys for people who are into a major delusion about their place in life. Genuine rebellion and a devotion to the counterculture don’t appear to be among their motivations if they’re willing to spend this kind of money for a vehicle that’s mostly about showing off.

I had no plans to adopt a prairie dog (somewhere, someone will adopt just about any creature, it seems), so I plan to make it my patriotic duty to do my part to keep Colorado safe from Monkey Pox by continuing not to adopt one.

ONE OF THE DRIVER’S license offices closed by the state (Does everyone still think those tax cuts were a great idea?) was the one in Loveland. Locals are mighty displeased, if letters to the local paper are to be believed. The choices here in Loveland are between driving 8 miles north to Fort Collins, where the wait is apparently interminable in the understaffed office, or driving 20-something miles south to Longmont, where the waiting time is shorter. Short drive, long wait, or longer drive, shorter wait. There’s a kind of cosmic balance to it all…. Your point about 12-year-old photos on licenses is an excellent one, by the way, and will probably give at least a few local or state gendarmes nightmares after they’ve pulled someone over for a traffic violation and are trying to figure out if the person behind the wheel is actually the one pictured on the license.

Steve Voynick’s general store article was fun, and well done, and I also enjoyed Duane Smith’s brief history of Chaffee County’s namesake. I tend to use the “short ‘a’,” myself, but I’m a flatlander who still wonders why, in most parts of the world outside Louisiana, “Louisville” is pronounced “Lewey-ville,” but here on the front range, it’s “Lewis-ville.”

And, as a frequent day-hiker and former visitor to the Great Sand Dunes, I thoroughly enjoyed Hal Walter’s tale of “following” Captain Pike over Medano Pass, with or without a pack burro.

Finally, a (relatively) brief foray into “branding.” My own experience as a consumer supports your contention regarding “brand aversion,” first of all. There are products of various kinds that I simply won’t buy, and I’ll do without rather than purchase that particular brand. In general, this is because I’ve already had a negative experience with the product, and don’t want that experience repeated, but sometimes it’s also because the product itself seems so grotesque, or silly, or overpriced, or pretentious, that I not only put the product itself on my mental “do not buy” list, but also anything else made by that company.

When I first subscribed to Colorado Central, I lived in Jefferson County. Their slogan seems accurate in a way, since to get to the mountains via U.S. 285 or l-70, you pretty much have to go through Jefferson County, so “Gateway to the Rockies” has a certain amount of plausibility. On the other hand, the place where I saw that sign and slogan most often was driving back and forth on Colorado 93 between Golden and Boulder. That highway parallels the Dakota Hogback, but doesn’t actually go into the mountains at all, so the sign — and slogan — always seemed a little out of place when I encountered it.

Since I don’t live in Central Colorado, the absolute truth is that every time I’ve visited Chaffee County — and the visits have been numerous, if brief — it’s been as “a tourist.” Too bad the “brand consultants” didn’t send a survey to me.

My answer for #1: [What are the top 3 reasons why visitors come to Chaffee County.]

(a) on the way to someplace else (Leadville or Gunnison, usually); (b) see (a); (c) see (a) again. At some point, I fully intend to actually do some day hiking in Chaffee County, which will require a motel room, actual use of a restaurant, and so on because I live several hours away, but I haven’t made those arrangements yet, and may not do so for another year or two.

#2: [Which visitor activity has the most room for growth?]

I have no idea, and echo your comments, I’m not interested in “peak-bagging,” and don’t care if I ever get to the top of a ’14-er.’ I’ve already done white-water rafting, and at my age, it’s lost some of its appeal. I don’t hunt or fish. I’m interested in the arts, but Loveland has its own gigantic sculpture extravaganza every August, a dozen galleries, Denver is only an hour away, Boulder has the Craftsman’s Co-op, and until l get quite a bit more wealthy, driving to Salida to look at art doesn’t seem economically sensible for me.

#3: [Describe the most common Chaffee County visitor.]

Once again, I have no idea. I live in the state, have never had “deep pockets,” am “older,” generally travel alone (not one of the choices, I note), and as I’ve already said, I’ve so far passed through without lodging.

#4: [What 3 words or phrases would you use to sell Chaffee County to visitors?]

I share your attitude about “selling” Chaffee County — or any county, for that matter — but as you suggested, perhaps we’re the ones who are out of step. As teaching colleagues gleefully pointed out with some frequency during my 30 years in a public high school classroom, I have all the business acumen of a rock, and could easily turn the Microsoft you loathe into a money-loser in a matter of months, if not weeks. These people don’t really want to know what words I might use to “sell” something.

#5: [Name the destination that most lures people away from Chaffee County.]

I agree, with the notation that I usually look forward to visiting Chaffee County. What lures me away is my home, which is located elsewhere in the state. Chaffee County is more attractive than my home — the Collegiate Peaks are a lot more impressive than the Dakota Hogback. Larimer County loyalists will point to our own mountains, which, though not quite as tall as the Collegiates, are nonetheless scenic and high, but they’re not in the immediate vicinity of my house.

#6: [What best describes the typical visitor experience in Chaffee County: dissatisfied; mildly dissatisfied; better than expected; priceless memory?]

Me, too. I can only deal with my own experience, and wouldn’t hazard a guess as to what the “typical” visitor is likely to experience. Your response to the “logical question” seems on the mark, and I’ve tried to live up to it by visiting at least once a year, but not looking for real estate while I’m there.

#7: [What’s the best surprise or greatest disappointment to visitors of Chaffee County?]

Frankly, the biggest surprise/disappointment for me is going to be the first time I come down from Trout Creek Pass on 285 and there’s no sign saying “Now THIS is Colorado!”

#8: [What’s the biggest thing Chaffee County has to change to attract visitors?]

All of your suggestions are worthy, but why not buy one of the bridges over the Seine in Paris and have it shipped to Salida (or Buena Vista), where it can be reassembled to cross the Arkansas. The fact that this makes no sense at all didn’t stop people in Lake Havasu City, in the middle of the Arizona desert, from buying London Bridge to place across a portion of their artificial lake. Why should Coloradans be rational?

#9: [Geography aside, what 3 things would make Chaffee County more like your favorite vacation site?]

My favorite vacation was a trip to Europe. Perhaps Salidans could purchase Notre Dame, or the Ufizzi Gallery in Florence, and have the new cultural icon reassembled, stone by stone in downtown. Think what that would do for the Art Walk! Second… hmmm… let’s see… a nude beach at the Salida Pool? That should drive a lot of people away from the pool and toward the Art Walk, too…. And finally, let’s change the climate of Chaffee County to something more Mediterranean. It’s already fairly dry, but the temperature extremes are too great, and a Mediterranean climate wouldn’t have those wild variations that characterize so much of Colorado weather. There. That fixes it, don’t you think?

#10: [If Chaffee County was a famous person, who would it be?]

Once again, I agree.

Coming down into the Arkansas Valley from Trout Creek Pass and seeing that “Now THIS is Colorado!” sign, with the Collegiate Peaks in the background, has been among my favorite Colorado experiences. I live in the part of Colorado where Highlands Ranch is often regarded as a good thing, along with bluegrass lawns. “Colorado’s Headwaters of Adventure” is an abysmal substitute, and with any luck at all, it will so outrage George Sibley that a future Headwaters Conference in Gunnison will feature it as the central example of “How Marketing Destroyed Colorado.”

Best wishes,

Ray Schoch

Loveland