Mountain to climb

Is this Isaac's grandpa? No. This is a photo of Geno Saccomanno, a physician and pathologist who lived and worked in Grand Junction and developed methods for early detection of lung cancer. Much of his research was done on uranium miners. The relevancy to my blog? There is a scholarship founded in his name.
I sent in my application package to the Saccomanno Higher Education Foundation yesterday. This could be my best chance of finding outside funds needed to pay for the barbering program. In the application packet, there were a few lines provided to write in comments as to why I deserved the money.
To give myself an edge over the other applicants, and assuming that the committee would eventually discover my educational background anyway, I decided I couldn't apply in good consciousness without writing a full bore essay. (Where did that idiom come from? Kind of sounds opposite of its meaning). I won't bore you (see?) with the details. But to my friends, you have not been forgotten. One point I touched upon is how the idea to become a barber came up. I've always enjoyed giving my friends backyard haircuts, even if they didn't always enjoy the outcome. Maybe I feel like I owe it to them to learn this skill and get them a great haircut.
The scholarships are only available to residents of Mesa and Carbon county. At the heart of of Mesa county is the Grand Valley, my home town. And one of the iconic images here is Mt. Garfield, (pictured right).
Throughout my travels, I have learned that the citizens of most towns in America believe that the Native Americans put some kind of curse on their towns. This curse always says if you ever live here you'll be doomed to return. All of these curses have two things in common. One, you have to take the dirt with you from some sacred location when you leave to break the spell. And two, everyone who believes their town is cursed believes their town is original.
Maybe my hometown got wise to all the posers out their because we've upped the ante. Here, we're supposed to take the dirt from four locations, not just one. Perhaps this represents the four geological movements in the Grand Valley. Our curse, as mentioned, has evolved. When I was a kid, it used to just be dirt from the base of the Book Cliffs. Then it was from the top of Mt. Garfield, the figurehead of the Book Cliffs. Now the local legend says that you need dirt from Mt. Garfield, the Colorado Monument, the Grand Mesa, and the Colorado River.
Admittedly, I'm one of those dupes who believes. I keep getting drawn back here against my will. Every time I've left, there has been some long chain of misfortunes forcing my return. I've lived in several other towns in Colorado, only to return. Arizona, then returned. Washington, wound up back here. Michigan and California charted the path for my return. This time, when I leave, I'm taking precautions. I'm taking dirt. And I'll buy into our newfangled legend and get dirt from all four places.
To start with, though, I decided to get dirt from Mt. Garfield. This is the most challenging dirt to acquire, and hiking to the top of Mt. Garfield is something that I've wanted to do for a long time. (Probably to get the dirt). If I ever return to Grand Junction, I'll want it to be on my terms. But hey, then there will probably be some clause in the curse that says if you leave and take dirt, you can't come back. With the lack of opportunity here, the low wages, the resort town rental prices, and angry conservative mentality, that's a chance I'm willing to take.