Forty-five years ago, Jim drove from Pittsburgh to Colorado in his old Volvo with 20 bucks and his pet parakeet. He had passed through Colorado once before and really loved the feeling there. He’d been wanting a change, so he’d decided to return. When he arrived, he was able to talk his way into a job at the local Eagle's Club because he had worked at one in Pittsburgh. He billed himself a jack of all trades and went on to prove it. After a stint at the Club he worked for years in journalism, as well as for the government, driving a dump ruck, and driving a bus.

These days, Jim and his dog, Slate, walk this park in New Castle, CO, about five times a day. I had stopped here to photograph the glowing golden leaves when Slate ran up to greet me. Jim was quite a bit slower to warm up than Slate was, but after a few minutes we were talking comfortably and he was brainstorming funding ideas for me.

Jim said he never visits the central range of Colorado because the big city (Denver) has too many people that get in each other's business. He prefers it here in the western slopes because people leave each other alone—at least until the random woman with a camera starts asking him questions.