The idea to drive into Albuquerque and make the nearly six hour drive to Telluride turned out to be a good one by my travel mate, Jeff Wells of Hollywood-Elsewhere.com. At first it seemed like the way to go was to wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am it and fly in just for the film fest. But to know a place, to fall in love with a place, it is sometimes necessary, advisable even, to take a different route than everyone else might take. The work is the work, but the place is the place. And when it comes to Telluride, Colorado, and all of the magnificent landscape that surrounds it, a broader view is the way to go. I will admit fully, though, that as a “Telluride virgin” perhaps I don’t know what I’m talking about. I’ll take that chance.
New Mexico was covered with a swatch of moisture-soaked clouds threatening to rain and every now and then letting some raindrops go – in bursts sometimes. Every once in a while there’d be an ominous flash of lightning splitting the flat horizon line, darkening as we headed toward Durango. We would make it to our hotel by 11pm, a full hour earlier than expected, careful to avoid the many cop cars which were pulling people over right and left, looking an awful lot like immigrant purging but one brings one’s liberal agenda with them everywhere.