Dubois One Year After the Fire: Busy Re-storing

Last year this time, fire devastated downtown Dubois WY. Something beautiful is about to rise from the ashes.

DuboisFire
Thanks to Joe Brandl for picture.

Prepare yourself when you turn that corner, a friend warned me last January as we neared Dubois on our return from the holidays.

Her words didn’t do much to dampen the shock. On the main street, it looked as if someone had neglected to remove a ghastly and elaborate Halloween display. Beyond the safety barricades, you couldn’t miss the sagging and crumbling black beams, the broken and charred window frames.

As many across the nation heard on the news last December 31, a huge fire had broken out in the center of Dubois the previous evening. It burned on into the wee hours. While volunteers tried to battle the flames, water kept freezing inside the hoses.

“I am certain that this most remote and greatest little town in the lower 48 will turn this disaster into a new start of something even better,” I wrote on Facebook. “The community spirit there is beyond describing. Just watch what will rise from these ashes!”

DuboisMercantileSite1215
Photo: Karen McCullough

I’m no prophet. But I know our town.

All this year, the view out the front window of the Rustic Pine Tavern has looked all wrong, empty and gaping, as if the hardware store parking lot was trespassing southward. What’s going to materialize there? I wondered, and so did everyone else.

One day in the spring, I saw the property owner Jeff Sussman huddled in a corner at the Rustic with realtor Leon Sanderson. But we didn’t hear any public news, other than a promise that the site would be redeveloped.

As soon as humanly possible (given the time needed for insurance investigations, demolition, planning approval, construction contracts, and un-freezing of the ground), construction will commence on this:

DuboisDevelopment3.
Image: Wind River Land & Bldg. Co/Belkin Architects

Last summer, Mayor Twila Blakeman told me that Jeff had raised the issue of holding a town meeting about the project. She recalled telling him, “Everyone liked what you did with the rest of the buildings [in that block]. Just do what you think best.”

Jeff recalls the conversation differently. He says Twila told him to go the usual route, via the planning commission (which no doubt she also did, and he proceeded to do).

“No one in the town has been anything but positive,” he said. “Everyone wanted it to be sort of Western, but when you asked someone what do you mean: Western 1905? Western 1940? … We understood what we wanted to do.”

But this isn’t the Wild West. Anyone who says it’s wide open and you can do whatever you want to do, he hastened to add, is talking “nonsense.”

A Carl Hiaasen or God forbid Annie Proulx would have a high time with the Sussman character: A high-profile New York commercial real-estate developer who moved to Dubois to set up a cattle ranch and bought up the best property downtown. But I see him more in a Wallace Stegner novel: A man from the East captivated by and ultimately committed to the West.

Jeff and his wife, the painter Susan Sussman, found Dubois almost by accident. They were looking in Montana, but ended up dividing the Rocking Chair ranch property in Dubois with another couple who wanted only a small part of the land for a guest ranch.

Their part became the Diamond D Cattle company, which two years ago won the distinction “Landowners of the Year” from Wyoming Game & Fish for its innovative wildlife conservation efforts, largely implemented by manager Reg Phillips, in dealing with threats from wolves and bears.

“It was a great leap of faith, and we just fell in love with the place,” Jeff told me. “It was an amazing learning experience, and I’m glad we did it.” He said they were especially fortunate to have found Reg and Aline Phillips, who had been with the ranch before and made the learning experience “terrific”.

These are no absentee landlords. When they’re in town, they’re visibly in town, and they have plenty of friends. I first met Jeff when he and Susan sponsored an open bar at the Rustic on his birthday several years ago.

So what will become of the empty lot? It’s described as a mix of retail and offices. “It’s 3 buildings, but from its appearance, you’ll think 5,” Jeff said. “We used altered facades and materials. We didn’t want people to just think ‘mall’.”

DuboisDevelopment2
Image: Wind River Land & Bldg. Co. /Belkin Architects

Jeff foresees an array of craftspeople in his shops: Saddlemakers, jewelry designers, people who make buckles, hats, and boots. “If we can get known as a place where there are lots of craftsmen, that would be great,” he said.

Reg Phillips, who is managing the construction effort, is energized by the potential to attract office tenants who will capitalize on one of the town’s best assets: Its status as a poster child for excellent Internet access in a remote area.

The plans will be out to bid next month or February latest, and ground will be broken in the spring, as soon as Nature allows.

“I’m not going to wait for tenants,” Jeff told me yesterday. “We’re going to build.”

© Lois Wingerson, 2015

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Dark Days in Dubois

It gets dark early this time of year everywhere on this side of the equator. How is this different in Dubois?

These are the gloomy days now, when there’s often just barely enough snow to be a nuisance. The darkness begins to descend in mid-afternoon and doesn’t lift until well into the morning, by rural standards anyway.

DuboisWebcam121715On the webcam that shows the center of town, I saw that it was snowing lightly this morning at 7:45 am. Only two vehicles approached the intersection on the one highway that passes through town. Soon after, someone crossed the highway on foot. I could see that it was slushy.

Of course, on this side of the equator it gets dark everywhere this time of the year. So how is Dubois different?

Because it’s so far from everywhere, in Dubois it is profoundly dark. This is not all bad, mind you: When it’s not actually snowing (which is often), the show of stars is beyond describing in the winter, biblical in brilliance and magnitude.

Just as unforgettable are the snowy nights with a full moon. I love to look across the valley at bedtime on such a night, when the light bouncing off the field of snow is almost as bright as day, but also eerie and ghostly. Features of the landscape show up vividly that I feel I’m not supposed to be seeing at night.

DuboisWinterMoonHow many people in the modern world ever see this? If you’ve been a city dweller all your life, the mere thought of it haunts you. On those bright and snowy nights I also think of the animals sleeping outdoors, and the ones that are awake and hunting.

Despite all that, and however many Christmas carols we may sing at church, this is not the time of year that makes the heart sing. How fondly I remember those days last July when I had to shield my eyes from the setting sun while driving home from the square dance or the rodeo at around 9 PM!

Long after dinner, while we were beginning the slow, calm slide toward the pillow, we would watch the moon rise to the east in the slow waning of that brilliant blue.

So what is there to do in a tiny, isolated village like Dubois on a day like today, when the sun will set at 4:43 PM and dark will fall at 5:16?

DuboisQuiltShow080815_2I wonder whether this season and this isolation play a large part in the creation of the splendors we enjoy in mid-summer at the annual quilt show. (I know you’re reading, Eileen. Do you think winter and the solstice create the desire–perhaps the need–to quilt?)

One of our master quilters, Eileen responded:

You’re correct, Lois. We get a lot of quilting done during these days. Every Thursday I have a group of from 8 to 12 women come to my house to quilt. Some even leave their second machine here so they don’t have to cart them each week. Many of us have been working on our 2016 raffle quilt part time (almost ready for the long-arm quilter!) while others work on their individual projects. We affectionately call ourselves the “TQers” (Thursday Quilters). We start around 9 a.m., go out to lunch together at noon, and then return to our projects until about 2:30 or 3 p.m. You can always count on free advice when you have a problem, learn the latest news and laugh a lot! No winter doldrums here!

dinnerJust the other day I learned that we missed a neighborhood dinner party held back home in Dubois during our absence for the holidays. I can’t recall when I’ve regretted missing an event more deeply, as I thought of those good friends enjoying each others’ company on a dark winter evening.

This brought back thoughts of the last potluck dinner we attended before leaving in November. That’s my foodie picture at right: Grilled salmon, grilled asparagus, pasta with fresh-made pesto (my contribution, having harvested the last of the basil from the indoor window box). The company was even more enjoyable than the cuisine.

CAM01090After we return to Dubois in a few weeks, I know these will be our times for jigsaw puzzles, popcorn and Scrabble, and old movies on TCM. But now I wonder: How do our neighbors in Dubois spend those long and perhaps lonely winter evenings?

Are there projects you save up for these winter evenings? Does this become the time you connect with friends you were too busy to see during the high season of summer?

Are there activities in town scheduled for winter evenings that you especially enjoy? Are there any that used to happen which you wish would be revived?

Especially if you’re a reader from the upper Wind River Valley, please enter a comment (be sure you’re on the page for this article, not the home page, and scroll to the bottom to find “Reply,” below the other comments).

I’d really like to know, and so would others.

© Lois Wingerson, 2015

Our local wildman and Scout master Joe Brandl responded, far more beautifully than I could ever have written:

Ahhhhh…the winter months of Dubois. It is these months that the Bighorns are easily observed banging heads along Torrey Creek, a large herd of elk can be spotted up on Windy Mtn, big browns are hungry in the Wind River which never freezes, for the adventuous souls, ice climbing at the Natural Bridge, the sun rises are the most colorful with ice crystals in the air, numerous mule deer does lead their fawns down to the river, the large bucks hang out together in the nearby hay fields, mergansers and golden eyes float the ice free river alway diving for a meal, some nights there is little wind and the snow falls so lightly, covering the streets and we know it will gone by noon the next day when the sun comes out, Christmas day sitting on Torrey Lake ice fishing……in a tee shirt, bald eagle hunt for ducks along the river, the smell of wood smoke from the logs cut in early fall, moon light snowshoeing or skiing on Two Ocean, no tourists to wait behind at the Bistro or crowd you out of a table at the Cowboy, we sweep our porches of snow, shovels only needed in May, hundreds of chickadees, pine siskins, rosy finches and a few remaining doves keep us refilling the bird feeders, more candlelight dinners with friends, the famous Claar Christmas Eve dinner which brings friends together and so much food they provide “to go plates” for you to take home, countless goodies left in your vehicle by someone just wanting to share with you, moonlit nights so bright you can read a newspaper and stars….wow, the stars, millions and millions of them and you can still see them downtown, but on the overlook or up on Togotwee Pass…..well, you just have to experience it! We love the winter because we know spring and summer however short is seems is just ahead. But, for now, we enjoy our winter!

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Missing Dubois at Christmas

Back in New York for the holidays, amid the clamor and energy, I long for what’s going on in my Wyoming home.

Selfie_1215Bklyn We’re back in New York City for the holidays. Because most of our family here has vanished (either deceased or otherwise departed), ours will be a quiet Christmas in a noisy city.

I discover that my new glasses, which looked so dorky in Dubois that I never wore them, are un-remarkably trendy here. I take a selfie on the street one evening, and surprise myself by what I see.

With a change of glasses, coat, and scarf (and facial expression) have I become someone else? Hardly.

Amid the clamor and the energy, I miss being in Dubois–even more so when friends let me know how much there is to miss. My friend and neighbor Karen McCullough sent these pictures, which make the loss all the more obvious.

She included the picture at left below, and I sent back the one at right. To be fair, she took hers first thing in the morning and I took mine at noon. I know that the temperature in Dubois often also gets near 50 at midday in the winter. It can be darn cold here too, especially around the holidays.

Back in Dubois, Karen told me, nearly all of the Christmoose cards are already gone from the little trees in Dubois’ two coffeehouses (the Perch and Kathy’s). For more than a decade, this has been the town’s version of “secret Santa.”

Christmoose1Each card contains a wish list for an anonymous needy child, identified only by age and gender. Forms to create a wish list are available at the food bank and the Opportunity Shop.

Donors take away a card, buy the gifts on the list, and return with the gifts to be distributed (also anonymously) on December 19.

Mary Ellen, who runs the program, told me today that 30 cards have been taken away. Can people guess the identities of the children from the lists? I wonder, but it doesn’t really matter. In a town as small as Dubois, it seems to me, even a secret Santa may feel quite personal.

She also reports that donations to the Salvation Army, which she and Mayor Twila Blakeman collect at the supermarket, are running particularly strong this year.

ChristmasConcert2015Speaking of Christmas spirit, here’s the scene at the Spirit of Christmas concert on Saturday evening at the Headwaters, sponsored by the Museum, the Library, and the Friends of the Library.

It shows one of the great facts about town: Given the opportunity, people actually dance together. And they donate tempting baked goods. Look at the spread they laid out for this event. I gain weight just thinking about it. Goodies

Imagine the bustle that must have preceded this scene, as Tammy worked with volunteers to set up the stage and reposition the furniture after the High Country Christmas Extravaganza on Friday.

There, I could have bought a Christmas tree already decorated by friends at the Kiwanis Club (at left, below), or one from the Chamber of Commerce with handmade ornaments showing some of the many ways you can amuse yourself in Dubois.

I would also have been tempted by the handmade toys, wreaths, and gingerbread houses. Of course there are craft fairs like this at many churches in the city, but not knowing the vendors or anyone else in the crowd, I’m rarely moved to stop by. Back in Dubois, I am always curious to see who’s been busy making what.

Naturally, I also have good friends in New York City, and it’s lovely to see them. But here the season brings traffic, bustle, incessant impersonal holiday music in the shops, noisy bars, over-hyped squalling children on the crowded sidewalks. The spirit? Entertain, or be lonely. Buy lots of stuff, or be square. Get down deep at the Christmas Eve service, but never set foot there the rest of the year.

This season is hardly a community event here. Seems in some ways it draws us apart rather than together. In my experience, the significant community events in the city are the disasters, like blackouts, big storms, or terrorist acts. Christmas is just yet another thing that turns up predictably every year, something else to amuse the children.

Tp be fair, you can’t blame the city for being a city. But at my stage in life, Christmas in Dubois seems to be much warmer, whatever the thermometer says.

© Lois Wingerson, 2015

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The Fabulous Dubois Photo Contest

Now’s your chance to show that your images can rival mine.

photo
Can you do better? Of course!

Wouldn’t you agree that Dubois is one of the most photogenic places on earth?

I’ve been having great fun trying to prove this, here on Living Dubois. Now’s your chance to show that your images can rival mine.

(I know they can. I look at Facebook.)

Please submit your own great digital pictures of the town and its spectacular surroundings to be considered for the forthcoming upgrade of the town website, at www.duboiswyoming.org.

LazyL&BHorsesThe old website is good as far as it goes. But the subtitle (“Where real cowboys work and play”) doesn’t begin to say it all. As this blog is demonstrating, there’s far, far more to tell about Dubois (and to attract those important tourist visitors) than just its cowboy heritage.

Let’s help to portray the rest of our unique story.

Sponsored by funding from tourism taxes, and coordinated by the Dubois Chamber of Commerce and the Destination Dubois committee, the image-rich new website will feature attractions including our diverse outdoor recreation opportunities, the many local art and artisan galleries, the exhibitions and performances that we enjoy so much, and a great deal more.

SquareDance3Winning images will be published on the new site, and your image can be credited with your name if you’d like. If the pictures include identifiable individuals, the developers will need permission to use their images.

There’s no compensation for winning–other than the satisfaction of showing the best of Dubois to a worldwide audience, in all its visual glory.

Please submit high-resolution (300 dpi or better) images (or questions) by e-mail to destinationdubois@gmail.com.

Winning entries will be chosen by the website developers at Wyoming Inc.

I’ve already entered. Won’t you join me?

Why the Best Doctor for Dubois is a Geek

Often, people find Dubois to be exactly the right place. Less often, exactly the right people find Dubois.

Tracy Baum
Tracy Baum, nurse practitioner

Often, people find Dubois to be exactly the right place. Less often, exactly the right people find Dubois.

The person at left is my primary care doctor, Tracy Baum. She’s not your typical doctor. Okay, in fact she’s not actually a doctor at all. But at least for me, and evidently for many of us in Dubois, she’s an even better option than the alternatives.

Tracy and her husband Marty (below, right) came to Dubois recently from a part of Alaska that’s even more remote than we are. As a board-certified nurse practitioner, Tracy was the family “doctor” out there, providing all kinds of primary care for people who live in places where there aren’t any highways at all. (At least Dubois has one.)

Marty has a plane and flies it, so the lifestyle worked.

MartyBaum
Marty Baum

Tracy and Marty loved Alaska, but they wanted to live closer to their children and grandchildren in the lower 48. So, like many others who eventually end up in Dubois, they embarked on a careful research project to find the right location for a couple with their particular life requirements to settle permanently. Lucky us.

Marty, who is a furniture builder by trade, has spent the past year converting a former bait and tackle shop to the Mountain Sage Holistic Clinic. Tracy took a part-time job at the Dubois Medical Clinic, while privately in her clinic offering her skills in integrative medicine, which her website describes as “looking at the interactions among genetic, environmental, and lifestyle factors that can influence long-term health and complex, chronic disease.”

TracyWaitingRoom
Mountain Sage Holistic Clinic waiting room.

There’s the waiting room, at left. Maybe you can see how proficient Marty is at his own line of business, which had to take a break during the renovation process.

“Integrative medicine” may sound a bit flaky, but it began to make sense to me. This is something you simply can’t offer in an ordinary medical clinic.

Growing toward retirement age, I began to see different kinds of traditional doctors and physical therapists for my minor and ordinary health problems. All of them had different advice, and it was often conflicting and contradictory.

My first consultation with Tracy, which lasted about an hour, may have dug deeper into my pocket more than the hasty chats I can get for a cheap copay. But as a retired medical editor well familiar with reading clinical studies, I recognized quickly that Tracy knows a lot about a lot.

TracyDunoirRoom
Mountain Sage Holistic Clinic examination room

Putting all the pieces together carefully with her considerable knowledge on many medical fronts, she was able to create a picture that made a great deal of sense to me.

One day last spring I heard that that, in a shift of ownership at the main medical clinic, Tracy had been laid off. I quickly sent a text of condolence.

“I couldn’t be happier!” she texted back. “Now I can open full-time.”

TracyNewRoom
Future telemedicine center

And so she has. The clinic now accepts most kinds of medical insurance, offers a wide range of clinical testing and some medications (but not narcotics) as well as all kinds of basic primary care.

In a pinch, if a problem arises with plan #1, she can even deliver a baby.

“As a family nurse practitioner, my training does not include deliveries,” she told me. “But I spent considerable time with a family practice doctor who was aware of my plan to practice in remote areas. Her philosophy was, if you’re out in the boonies, at some point you will need to know how to catch a baby. And she was right – it has happened.”

That’s encouraging, yes. But what clearly excites Tracy is that she can now begin to lay the plans for telemedicine, online consultations with experts elsewhere in the country.

Of course!   In our small town, distant from major medical centers, with our incomparably good Internet service, our very smart and forward-thinking family “doctor” should be able consult with some of the best specialists in the country via teleconference and interactive online image sharing.

TracyStoreRoomMedicare has just changed the rules to encourage this innovative kind of medical practice for people with chronic conditions, and where the government goes private insurers often follow. Dubois is just the kind of rural area the new rules were created to serve, and yes, nurse practitioners do qualify.

Just beyond the back door at the clinic is Marty’s large workshop (shown at right). Alas, the woodworking business has continued to languish while he had to step in as business manager and temporary receptionist at Tracy’s end of this remarkable Mom and Pop shop.

Which will come first at the back end of the building: The sound of saws and hammers (beyond the door, at last), or the chirp and whirr of new electronic equipment on the clinic side?

© Lois Wingerson, 2015

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Sellouts Amid Vacancies: Autumn in Dubois

Leaves drop from aspens. Motels are vacant. Does Dubois go quiet? All is not as it may seem ….


DomekHere’s the center’s new director, Sara Domek, clearly delighted by the success of the event.

Dubois has one of the largest year-round populations of these rare sheep, she told me. The Bighorn Sheep Center, which supports research and education into the bighorn sheep, is one of the town’s main attractions for visitors.

Sara told me that events like this bring in about a fifth of the center’s funding. The rest comes from foundations.

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© Lois Wingerson 2015

The Great American West in Your Vest Pocket

How many times I have longed to get away on vacation! But leaving Dubois this year only makes me appreciate it all the more.

cactusesHow well I remember all those vacations before I retired, when I longed for a chance to get away. How odd to get away this year, and find I spent so much time longing to get back.

During our trip to the prickly, alien world of southern Arizona, I began to understand why many of us who first come to Dubois to get away find it so difficult to stay away once we have left. Visiting the Sonoran Desert Museum in Tucson, all I wanted was to return to that softer high-mountain desert back home up north, made so much gentler by the sight and smell of sagebrush and the waves of grass.

But it wasn’t merely that I missed the familiar landscape. There’s much more to it than that.

I learned what it looks like around Phoenix and Tucson. We drove through many beautiful mountain passes, and I saw the actual OK Corral in Tombstone. It was okay.

Butch_Cassidy_mugshot
Butch Cassidy: mug shot from Laramie State Prison. The ranch he must have been missing during his only prison term was right here in Dubois.

So many others, like us, were also out there, covering vast amounts of territory to satisfy their curiosity about the real West. They could have seen it so much more simply and quickly, within a few hundred square miles, by just going to Dubois. (Why aren’t we pointing this out to people?)

Think about it: All the eras of Western geology. Dinosaurs nearby in Thermopolis. Native American prehistory in the mountains all around. Then the history: Mountain men, cowboys, and our very own famous outlaw, Butch Cassidy. Railroads? The ties were hewn right here. A great restored ghost town and working (though failed) gold mine, just around the corner in South Pass City. Not to mention the greatest American National Park, a long day trip but really so close.

As to the landscape, we traveled over many days to tour Arizona, and here’s what we found:

PaintedDesertNPS
Painted Desert. Luckily, because there is so little vegetation here (I’m guessing), our dog was actually allowed on the path, unlike so many other National Parks. But we aren’t allowed off the path.

Painted Desert: Yes, you can see it from your car in the Petrified Forest National Park, or hike overland deep into the adjoining Arizona back country to explore it (no highways nearby). But there’s nothing like actually scrambling up these multicolored slopes and exploring the rambling draws. I do it all the time, close to home.

PaintedHills
Our own painted desert in Dubois, just one small part of it. There are many places around town where you can hike these fabulous badlands and see the formations up close.

“This should be a state park or something,” said a neighbor on one such hike. Lucky for us, most of it isn’t anything official. It’s just delightful.

NewspaperRock
Petroglyphs on Newspaper Rock, Petrified Forest National Park. You might get this good a view with a great set of binoculars.
Petroglyphs Dubois WY
Petroglyphs in a valley near Dubois, about a half-hour drive from the middle of town.

At the end of a short paved path, using a telescope provided by the Park Service and looking down and to the right, in good light you can catch a glimpse of the petroglyphs on Newspaper Rock in the Petrified Forest National Park.

In Dubois, tourists can contact the local museum for a guided tour to see our many local petroglyphs, right up close. I think ours look better, but then I could actually see those.

Undoubtedly I’ll keep traveling. But if I long to keep learning about the true West, I know exactly where to go (or stay).

Unless I suddenly develop a passion to be surrounded by cactus.

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© Lois Wingerson 2015

Masks, Ghosts, and Spooky Things About Retirement

Feeling like a ghost of your former self, facing truly spooky choices in the shadow of mortality.

Halloween maskIs this a Halloween mask? An outer space creature? A new Sesame Street character?

Trick and treat.  It’s the bark on a section of a felled log where I rested during a recent hike.

Isn’t it beautiful? Looking at it reminded me of my own wrinkles (how much time I have spent pondering them!) and about the wonderfully wrinkled other faces I see on the aged ranchers in Dubois. Those wrinkles have great stories to tell!

The young, hip gentry back in that now-trendy city neighborhood in Brooklyn that I must visit now and again refer to Baby Boomer homeowners like us, who haven’t yet sold and moved out, as the “leftovers.” These new neighbors walk right past me on those familiar streets, as if we were both wearing masks. It makes me feel more like a ghost than a leftover, but perhaps appropriately so. The house I used to occupy began to feel haunted, by the high, noisy voices of our children who grew up there.

thicket Then I retired, intentionally making a ghost of my former self. I embarked on a journey into a spooky thicket that is treacherous and tangled, with truly endless commitments to adult children, sad and scary duties to aging parents, unforeseeable hazards and murky decisions.

One of them may be the choice of where to live out those perilous years in the shadow of your own mortality. That decision can be scary. It was for us.

A brief road trip to the Southwest has brought to mind some of the options we did not choose. For instance:

failed retirement villageThe planned retirement village, offering a quiet life in the exclusive company of other people with similar interests and lifestyles.

If you want, of course, you can guarantee that exclusion with gates and guards.

A friend at my mother’s retirement village — one of the oldest and best in the country, a nonprofit — calls it a “ghetto.” A very pleasant ghetto indeed, she says, but a self-imposed prison nonetheless.

We do have the feeling that by removing all challenges and inconveniences, this option has a way of hastening your trip into passivity.

Of course, as the sad picture above demonstrates, these communities may fail to evolve as planned.

RVParkThe opposite end of the spectrum, the RV nomad lifestyle, beckons with the pleasant thought of following the best weather everywhere and seeing new places at every turn.

We see these nomads passing through Dubois all the time, and sometimes host them at our local RV parks. Temporary communities do seem to form among the mobile homers who settle in the same seasonal location year after year, but this gypsy lifestyle would only suit me for a few weeks at a time.

We have neighbors who lived only in their large RV for nearly a decade. They finally sold it and settled in Dubois.

Nobody planned Dubois. It is what social planners have called a naturally organizing retirement community,” where people of our age group gravitate and build the resources they need for themselves.

Dubois WYWe are indeed a community of like-minded people, but just about the only opinion that we feel the need to share is the value of the community itself. At home in Dubois, I’ve found, people don’t really care where you came from or what you used to do. (In fact, a newly published oral history of the town says that a century ago it was considered rude to ask.)

What matters is who you are now and what you contribute to the village.

Which is what it really is: a village, with children and noisy, irreverent teenagers, and young adults who may make bad choices, as well as many who grew old here and others who came here to grow old.

That’s enlivening, and hopeful, and not a bit scary.

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© Lois Wingerson 2015

Dubois: Middle of Nowhere, and Everywhere

Dubois WY
The road to Evanston, October 21.

One of the great things about Dubois is how great it is to get away.

Please don’t get me wrong. There’s probably not a minute when I want to escape.

A few weeks ago my husband asked whether I’d mind missing our annual road trip if he couldn’t fulfill his commitments before the holidays. I said I really didn’t mind.

Living in Dubois is sort of like a vacation anyway.

We did get away after all, and we chose the right time. Whatever it may say in “Home on the Range,” the skies were predicted to be cloudy all day on the day we left, and they did stay that way all day as we headed south.

1200px-US_map_-_geographic
Source: US Geological Survey

What I meant in the first sentence was that it’s almost the perfect place to start from on a road trip to somewhere else in the American West. Especially for someone like me, a retired Easterner who saw the West only via airports during business trips, it’s the ideal jumping-off point from which to explore.

Here’s a map of places we’ve visited by highway since moving to Dubois. The red line heading straight east is sort of a cheat, because it roughly describes the commute back to New York City which we take now and again. But those are road trips too, and I enjoy them.

jordanelleSkies were clearing as we reached our first campsite, in northern Utah.

Since then we have seen massive 1000-foot ridges of red stone that stayed with us for hours. We’ve dropped through vertiginous canyons and followed tortuous switchbacks. Nothing thousands of other tourists haven’t done — but it’s so easy to get home!

En route I’ve met several people who have taken months away from whatever to tour the American West by car. Lucky, lucky me. I can do it at my leisure.Flagstaff1

I can also take great hikes in a different location. The pictures at right are from a 3-mile loop the dog and I reached out the back entrance of our KOA campground in Flagstaff. It was a magical uphill scramble over many boulders, along a very well-maiintained trail, with the reward you see at the top.

On the left there you can see a long-dead, black volcano.

So much for what I’ve done on my vacation. What I’ve learned on my vacation is this: You can drive for many days around the American West, and see many unforgettable sights.

But I have yet to see any location in the American West that has so many of those remarkable sights — red rocks, massive vistas, huge rock formations, deep canyons, dark pine forests, hidden lakes — within such a relatively compact space.

In Sedona, all you see is red rocks. In Crater Lake, what you see is a high mountain lake. In Dubois, I can hike the red rock badlands or the pine forests. It just depends which way I turn onto the highway.

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© Lois Wingerson 2015

Dubois WY Naked and Afraid? Nah. Under-Exposed and Apprehensive

Mostly Dubois WY rests in splendid isolation, 80 miles from anywhere. Once in a while it basks briefly, if uncomfortably, in the bright light of publicity.

Mostly, Dubois WY rests in its splendid isolation, 80 miles from anywhere else. But once in a while it basks briefly, and a bit uncomfortably, in the bright light of the national media.

Six years ago, Kevin Bacon starred in Taking Chance, a movie (not actually filmed here, curiously) that honored the town’s welcome home to the body of a son fallen in Iraq. Late last December, the fire that engulfed part of the historic main street, and the heroic response of volunteer firefighters, made a great story for the post-Christmas news slump on NBC.

Dubois WY Naked and Afraid
Joe Brandl shows off a shoe he made from bulrushes. They were great until they got wet.

And last night, one of our favorite local characters won his 50 minutes of fame on the Discovery Channel series “Naked and Afraid.” I went to a celebration at the Headwaters, with some 200 townsfolk, to watch the broadcast on a big screen and to celebrate as our local tanner and Boy Scout leader, Joe Brandl, described his 21-day adventure on a remote island in Namibia. He was surrounded by swamps, armed with nothing more than his tin cook-pot and knife, and assisted by a previously unknown female companion who had brought along a fire-starter.

We all knew right away that they wouldn’t need the fire-starter. Joe has published a multi-part series in the local weekly newspaper about how to survive in the wilderness, including advice on how to create a survival kit that would fit inside a Band-Aid tin. He also wrote about how he survived a winter breakdown miles into the middle of nowhere by using his underwear and gasoline from the tank to start a fire.

He compiled all this in the first place to educate his young Scouts, who spend lots of time out in the wilderness for their own amusement.

Long since, like many others here, Joe has learned to start fires the original way (as another castaway, Tom Hanks, showed us in a different movie), by spinning a stick rammed into some fragile kindling.

Banks
Steve Banks in mountain man regalia.

Joe said he was fascinated by mountain men from an early age. “I tried not to just read it, but to live it,” he told us.

The guy operating the sound system last night lives by exactly the same motto. A retired telecommunications engineer and amateur local historian, Steve Banks has not only studied the journals of mountain men like John Colter, he has made a pastime of walking every step they walked and seeing the very vistas they described. Banks knows the trails of the Yellowstone Basin better than I know the back of my own hand.

Probably nobody in the room would have doubted that Joe Brandl would make it through his 21 days in isolation not only unscathed, but triumphant. (It was a set-up anyway, of course. The camera crew was ever-present, and medics checked the pair every day.) Nonetheless, we listened fascinated as he described finding nothing to eat for the first 12 days but grubs, minnows, chameleons, and one dove egg.

The crowd roared with cheer as we heard Joe tell producers on his audition video, “In Dubois, we have the toughest-ass Scout troop in the United States. No doubt about it.”

We murmured with assent when he dismissed the threat from 4-ton hippos that live in that swamp and regularly crossed “his” island. “Scared?” he said. “No. I live every day with grizzlies [nearby]….Where I live now tests me every day.”

We were silent later, as we watched our 55-year-old tough-guy neighbor on the screen, by then himself grizzled and filthy, staring with a deeply furrowed brow and moist eyes at the tiny woman young enough to be his daughter. She had broken down when sharing the experience during her job as a beat cop that had broken her heart. After vowing not to touch her without her consent, Joe reached out and gently stroked her arm.

We had seen the words “Dubois WY” exposed, so briefly and so rarely, to the entire vast continent. Everyone saw them there, proudly tattooed in pixels over Joe’s living embodiment of our “brand”: Tough as nails, in many ways remote, yet deeply compassionate when someone is in trouble.

The simile goes beyond even that. Like Joe himself on that virtual reality show, we people of Dubois are fundamentally concerned about our town’s survival, and always intent on assuring it — but at the same time uneasy about getting too much visibility.

Before the film rolled, Joe had shared with us the mission statement that had kept him and his companion going during those kinda lonely 21 days. Here’s part of it:

“To thrive, not just survive, and to do so with passion and compassion.”

Did you notice that all three of my examples of national media attention have told very positive stories? Enough said.

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© Lois Wingerson 2015