FISHING CLOSE TO THE BANK

I always considered growing up in the little town of Ouray, Colorado to be a privilege. In fact, I often thought that everyone else was just unlucky to have grown up elsewhere. I know now that most people who had a long-time relationship with their childhood town feels pretty much the same way I do, but to me Ouray will always be special. I hate to paint everyone with a broad brush, but I see little evidence today that the young people, even in very small towns, have the freedoms that my friends and I had during our formative years. My parents moved to Ouray from Cripple Creek in late 1949 when I was a mere six months old. My dad was the only person hired by the Idarado Mining Company in 1950. He worked there until the mine began closing down in 1978. During my childhood years, Ouray enjoyed a fairly stable economic environment. Fourteen of the twenty kids in my high school graduation class started kindergarten together. That kind of stability is not nearly as common today as it was then. My dad, Lester Cox, enjoyed going hunting and fishing, largely I believe because of his early association with my mother’s family. The Bielz family was renowned for its outdoor activity. They were constantly camping, hunting and fishing. Some of that heritage found its way into my bloodstream and the area around Ouray presented a great opportunity to take advantage of, and enjoy, the outdoors. We (my dad and me) did not always get along, but we had an unwritten and unspoken agreement that all our problems were put aside during our hunting and fishing trips. It took me a long time to appreciate how important that was, but it is a lesson I will never forget and will continue to promote.