Brooding myself into a parboil of suspicion and fear, salted with a
pinch of curiosity, I immediately jumped into the pot, simmering with
visions of how my quiet little road would soon be belching up dense
clots of dust from the convoys arriving to disgorge battalions of
visitors to tramp around the newly-christened peak. And there was more!
Vicious, ugly rumors that musician Tim McGraw and even John McCain
himself, currently the most politicized vet manning the podium, might
be making cameo appearances! (Thank God, both have remained merely
rumors.)
I could just imagine all the Pabst Blue Ribbon proletariat and
right-wing rhetoric soon to be bubbling out across a county more
renowned for clothing-optional hot springs than erstwhile warriors.
Here a significant percentage of the inhabitants are of the organic
opinion that "Hummer" is a dirty word.
Not being a veteran myself (surprise!), I considered holing up. I
thought I'd put up a gate at the end of our lane to stave off all the
war-glorifying ballyhoo. But seeing as how I was grumping my way into
self-glorifying curmudgeonhood, some friends stepped up to remind me
how Saguache was, after all, the third poorest county in the state, and
the fourteenth poorest in the nation. With little else besides potato
farms, cattle ranches, and extraterrestrials to help put food on the
table, such an event could bring critical economic aid. In our high
mountain valley, the average income struggled to come up with a gaunt
$17,999 per capita in 2005, according to statistics compiled by the San
Luis Valley Development Resources Group.
Perhaps I was being too hasty and not considering the good of the
whole. As it turned out, the Society of Mount KIA/MIA (pronounced
KEE-yuh, MEE-yuh) had organized an open meeting with local residents to
give information and gather volunteer help, aimed toward facilitating
the dedication ceremonies and events.
Suddenly, an ethical dilemma presented itself, with local economic
development squaring off against my pacifistic principles, was I
literally selling out? Or were there bigger fish to fry? Confused, yet
determined not to allow others to plan my future for me, I reluctantly
attended that first local KIA/MIA meeting in Villa Grove in December,
2007, to see what this was really all about.
THE OFFICIAL Mount KIA/MIA Dedication Committee comprises five
members, four of whom are military veterans. Bradley Hight, the
committee's chairman, and a Ute tribal member, has assisted several
other veterans' groups around the southwestern U.S. with organizing
their commemoration events. So, in the summer of 2002, Bradley was
approached by a fellow veteran to spearhead efforts to locate an
unnamed geographic feature -- in this case a mountain -- which could be
dubbed to honor all of those lost in U.S. military conflicts. In that
initial conversation, Bradley recalls, "I listened to his reason
for naming Mount KIA/MIA, which at that time was for the soldiers that
never made it home. Honoring them with this mountain would help the
families to have a place to bring their dog tags and pray."
Bradley explained that he liked the idea of having such a sacred
place available because his great uncle, whom he'd never met, had died
in Italy while serving in World War II. A mountain monument like this
one would give him a spiritually-crafted place where memories, prayers,
and energies could be focused. Another uncle, who is still living and
received a purple heart for his service in Korea, helped Bradley with
much of the start-up organizational work regarding veterans' groups,
informational parade exhibits, pow-wows, and federal paperwork.
That's where the real hurdles began. Among the myriad problems that
Bradley and his supporters encountered, the most formidable proved to
be in gaining permission from the Bureau of Land Management and the
Forest Service. Each ream of black and white tedium, however, gradually
evaporated before the Society's mission-driven perseverance.
SHOTS OF ENCOURAGEMENT came in several forms. One was in recognizing
that the name, KIA/MIA, sounded auspiciously similar to the Ute words
ki'ya-mi'ya-vat, roughly translating as a "place where
people walk about playing (or laughing)." Of course, some,
including Bradley, interpreted this as a fortuitous stroke of luck, and
a good omen, especially after gaining a provisional endorsement to
bequeath that name to a peak located in the Sawatch mountains, the
traditional home territory of the Ute Tribe.
Referring to how the Society had outlasted a gauntlet of federal
snags, Bradley quips, "I guess they finally ran out of problems
and had to name the mountain." Many leads were pursued, most of
which led to dead ends. But after five years of pestering the
responsible federal agencies, the group prevailed. The Bureau of
Geographic Names relented and officially granted the moniker, Mount
KIA/MIA, at a conference of the Council of Geographic Names Authorities
held in Lexington, Kentucky, on October 7, 2007.
When asked how Mount KIA/MIA will differ from a monument such as the
Vietnam Memorial, Bradley patiently answers, "The mountain was
made by the Creator, not like the monuments that were made by man or
woman, which are real powerful and beautiful at the same time, and all
are located in Washington, D.C. I think the song, America The
Beautiful, tells the whole story."
There exists only one other mountain in the United States named to
denote a similar military purpose. Found in Alaska, Mount POW-MIA
(Prisoners Of War-Missing In Action) calls attention to those U.S.
soldiers who have been captured or otherwise gone unaccounted for,
though not verifiably killed in the line of duty.
Geographically, Mount KIA/MIA is located in the southern Sawatch
Range and tops out at a modest 11,282 feet. Nestled amongst taller
peaks, it remains all but completely invisible from any surrounding
road or town. It is approachable only by foot, most directly by hiking
southwest on the Silver Creek Trail (F.S. TR 201) from the O'Haver Lake
exit off of U.S. Highway 285. However, a slender glimpse of the
mountain can be had by taking Highway 285 south from Poncha Pass for
0.5 miles to the pullout for Poncha Loop Forest Service Road 5325. The
KIA/MIA massif is the forested mountain resting between Sheep Mountain
to its south (your left as you face it) and Mount Ouray to its north
(on your right).
To get a closer look, you can proceed approximately 1.5 miles on FS
Road 5325 in a two-wheel drive vehicle as far as a cattle guard. Past
this point, the road is currently passable only by four-wheel drive
vehicles. If you're able, you can continue past the cattle guard and an
informational kiosk on FS 878, and immediately turn right onto FS
201-C. Continue for another 1.5 miles to where the road ends in a
turnaround. This overlook affords an impressive vantage of the Mount
KIA/MIA massif, Sheep Mountain, and Mount Ouray. (Ouray, named after
the famous Ute chief, means "arrow" in the Ute language.
Chipeta, meaning dove, was Chief Ouray's wife, and is the name given to
the next mountain to the north. These symbols, an arrow held by an
eagle, and dove, are represented on the Society's logo, indicating
strength and peace.)
I know; fire happens. You remember and learn from it so that
hopefully it never has a chance to flare up again. Then you replant,
rebuild and get on with life. Or, as the government is wont of doing,
the fire is fanned back up, over and over, and "we the
people" are repeatedly persuaded that each blaze is a justifiably
"prescribed burn." This analogy makes me pro-peace.
But whatever your rationale, one unimpeachable fact remains: Many
people lost their lives during these unspeakably catastrophic events.
And after talking to Bradley and some of his friends, it seems to me
that most of them don't wish to brood over the old fires as much as
they seek support in finally putting them to rest. Mount KIA/MIA will
be a place for gathering laughter and tears together as a soft,
quenching rain over the mountains.
So, we remember, and celebrate lives, not deaths. With that, I
think, most can agree. Maybe it's not such a dilemma, after all.
Or as Bradley puts it, "We would like to make the dedication to
the Warriors, men and women, that served our country from the Indian
Wars to the present time, that the families will have a place to go to
say their prayers, that they know that the blessing of Mount KIA/MIA is
where the healing starts."
IF YOU DECIDE to make the trek in, remember that even though the
mountain is located on public land, there is, at present, no trail
system accessing the summit. Plans, however, are under way to begin
trail building efforts within the next few years.
Then, maybe, as Bradley hopes, ". . . one of these years, the
Society of Mount KIA/MIA might build a museum. We just don't know what
the future holds right now."
You can find more information on the mountain's exact location by
visiting http://geonames.usgs.gov. From
there, click on Domestic Names, then go to Search GNIS, where you can
enter-in the mountain's name (Mount KIA/MIA), its state (Colorado), and
the county (Saguache), which will get you to a page listing its exact
coordinates, map quadrangle name, et cetera.
For additional information on the Mount KIA/MIA Dedication
Ceremonies, contact CW3 Paul Edwards, RET., Attn: Mount KIA/MIA
Dedication Committee, PO Box 69, Chama, New Mexico 87520, or call
575-756-4040, or email paul@mtkiamia.com
Bill Hatcher is a part-time writer, mountaineer, and xenophobe
who drives his Volkswagen around chasing after UFOs in Saguache
County.