RegularOccurrences

4 La Vida Local

Ear to the ground:

“She’s not really taking the path we expected ... she’s sort of bushwacking.”

– Teenagers – are we right?

4 Thumbin’ It

6 Soap Box

7 State News

8 Top Story

10 Kill Yr Idols

11 Gossip of the Cyclers

10 Anticipation

The inside scoop on new releases to look forward to in 2023

by Jon E. Lynch

11

Big fun

Silverton rolls out the white carpet for return of fat bike extravaganza

by Jennaye Derge

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12-13 Stuff to Do

13 Ask Rachel

14 Free Will Astrology

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15 Movie Review Haiku

On the cover

Rob Gowler slashes some deep turns in the replenished snowpack of the La Plata Mountains./ Photo by Stephen Eginoire

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#FPF

Because it looks like no one else is asking, I suppose we will: What the heck is Fanny Pack Friday?

For the past two years, every now and then during the winter, while we’re putting together the Telegraph’s calendar, one particular “Stuff to Do” item has caught our eye – Fanny Pack Friday at the Nugget Mountain Bar, just south of Purgatory.

With another Fanny Pack Friday scheduled for this Friday from 3-5 p.m., we felt it was time to ask the hard questions.

“I don’t think people realize what Fanny Pack Friday is,” Steve Valverde, owner of the Nugget, said. “They think we just give away fanny packs.”

First, I think we could all benefit from a short history lesson about the fanny pack itself. Oh wait, crap. The fanny pack dates back 5,000 years and is considered the oldest fashion trend in the world. One was even found on a caveman discovered in a glacier, who lived around 3,000 BC in the Alps.

Let’s fast-forward a bit and start with who invented the modern day pack we all know and love. That should be easy enough, no? Oh goddamnit; it appears an Australian woman claims to have invented the pack in the 1960s, inspired by kangaroo pouches. But the bag had been on the market for at least several years, and was in Sports Illustrated’s 1954 Christmas issue. Who knew?

What we do know is fanny packs became popular in the mid-20th century with skiers. Eventually, they became fashion must-haves, reaching their peak in the 1980s/’90s, even marketed by Gucci and Chanel.

And then, in the 2000s, they crashed and burned, becoming a relic for moms and dads to keep snacks in during trips to Disney World and eventually an ironic joke for hipsters. But guess what?

“Fanny packs are back,” Kris Oyler, cofounder/CEO of Peak Food & Beverage, which owns Steamworks Brewing (which partners with Nugget to put on FPF).

Everyone who comes into the bar is given a raffle ticket, then, every 15 minutes or so, winners are called out to win prizes, swag and gift cards. The big-ticket item, however, is a drawing for one Osprey fanny pack.

“It’s just something we came up with and a fun way to do an après ski at the Nugget,” Oyler said.

But that’s not all. Most events (but not the one tomorrow) feature live music or a DJ. And, of course, there’s drink specials and Steamworks beer on tap.

“It’s a good party,” Valverde said.

Weather or not

We planned to meet some good friends from California at Death Valley’s Mesquite Springs Campground in early December to reminisce about the good old days. Death Valley was an equidistant point between our homes and in a climate that might be habitable so late in the year.

My brother, who is a Catholic priest, mentioned that any vacation destination starting with the word “Death” might not be such a good idea. I should have listened. His occupation gives him special insight into these matters.

Lucky for me, disasters come in three sizes: small, medium and Holy Shit! In retrospect, ours turned out to be inconvenient, though at the time it loomed as large as a real valley of dread.

In anticipation of the trip, I kept an eye on Death Valley weather and concluded the worst-case-scenario might be cooler-than-usual night temperatures. On the up side, I’d be towing our little 13-foot camping trailer, and our friends would be meeting us with its twin. We’d all be warm enough inside our fiberglass igloos, even without power or water hookups. We’d be, as they say, equipped to survive.

Normally one wouldn’t pack a raincoat when heading to Death Valley, which is infamous as a dry place. Except, this December, a major southern California storm full of mudslides and torrential downpours decided to track its mucky footprints across our itinerary. We might as well have packed swimming suits.

For most of the trip there, we experienced dry roads. The rain started many miles outside of Las Vegas. The drive to the great plunge in the road, which I’ll refer to as the “Death Dip,” stayed shrouded in rain, buckets of rain as Bob Dylan phrased it. In fact, we sang that song for close to 25 miles. By then, with strained voices from out-shouting the sound of water ricocheting off the truck, I remember thinking, “This deluge has to let up soon.” I imagined scorching heat, rocks that crawled, borax trails and mirages of palm trees, but what I got were dark clouds piled up like a California surf pounding the horizon.

The real disaster I hadn’t expected followed close behind in the form of our very own camping trailer. We’d ordered a customized window installation in

Thumbin’It

Finally, snow for Snowdown! (which starts Wednesday). And, it looks like even more storms could be on the horizon next week.

Signs that the ozone is slowly but noticeably healing. Yet researchers say more climate action is needed to put the brakes on climate change.

Approval of the world’s first vaccine for declining honeybees. Put this in the win column for protecting global food supplies.

August but had to wait for the semi-professional fitting till the end of November. More airflow in our igloo was our plan. When finally completed, we were pleased with the excellent view and breeze where there used to be a vent the diameter of a stove pipe.

In Beatty, Nev., the rain still tap-danced its chorus line on our vacation plans. I’ve never been impervious to stupidity, but in this case, I suggested it might be a bit brainless to keep driving into Death Valley at dusk, in the rain, dragging a trailer, to hunt for the spot where our friends would be camping. Since we were outfitted to go camping, we checked in at a little RV place on the outskirts of town. We could boil some water and make a pot of tea. Maybe read about our misfortunes in the leaves at the bottom of our cups.

But we never got to the tea. After opening the trailer door, I could see how much water had flowed past the casement of the new window. It pooled onto a counter where it amassing enough courage to become a small creek, moving along the counter in both directions, turning into a miniature waterfall, which poured over each end of the counter to fill the soft hills of our beds. Memory foam is excellent for comfort, but at that moment I learned how ambitiously it also absorbs and retains moisture.

The local news reported the road into Death Valley from our side had been temporarily closed, washed out by the rain. We could not contact our friends, who’d presumably landed in Mesquite Springs, or maybe not. Our enthusiasm to reach them cooled. I mopped up water as best I could with a bunch of towels and used an entire tube of silicone to unsuccessfully seal the window frame. At least my fingers were completely waterproof.

We abandoned any plans to camp and drove to a nearby casino hotel for the night. We left messages for our friends and slept. A hard rain lasted all night and through the morning as we headed home, dragging our soggy igloo. I’d like to say our spirits were uplifted, but as we approached the elevated landscape of Flagstaff, Dan Fogelberg’s song “Old Lang Syne” started playing on the radio. Naturally, the weather altered the closing lyrics and the rain turned into snow

– David Feela

SignoftheDownfall:

A new report finding millions of Americans take medication to help themselves sleep. Whatever happened to just putting on a 12-hour Ken Burns doc? And it’s organic.

Boebert introducing a bill to defund Planned Parenthood. Ugh, do we really have two more years of this?

A new Gallup poll finding employee engagement in the U.S. fell in 2022 to 32%. We’d tell a joke here, but what’s the point?

A-boot Face

In 2019, 26-year-old Canadian Daniella Leis got drunk at a Marilyn Manson concert and tried to drive home. But instead, she drove through someone else’s house, ruptured a gas line and caused an explosion that destroyed four homes, hospitalized two firefighters and amassed $15M in damage. Daniella was released last month after completing her sentence, and now, she’s decided it’s all Budweiser Garden’s fault because that’s where she got drunk, so she’s suing. The case would be dismissed in America, but in Canada, Daniella has a chance because her allegations might be Tru-deau.