Tango at the Wild Horse Saloon

               I’m back in Durango for a couple of weeks, telecommuting to work for a change. Durango is a special place for me and many other people. One of the reasons for its specialness, besides the steam engine rides on America’s only other narrow-gauge railroad, the low-key topnotch ski resort now named after the town but formerly known as Purgatory, and the awesome whitewater rafting on the rapids of the Animas River, is the dance scene at the Wild Horse Saloon.

               This is a cowboy bar that makes its living slinging beers and mixed drinks. Durango is, surprisingly, a working class town, and the brews are reasonably priced.

               Inside you will find ‘riggers’ from the gas wells, carpenters, nurses and ski bums. You will also find an incredibly wide variety of men from all over America who make the Wild Horse their home for the weekend. Hailing from all points of the compass, these men are capable leaders of all sorts of dances, from country 2-step to rumba and salsa, and now tango.

               There is always a live band on Friday and Saturday nights with a $5 cover charge. The dancers arrive early, around seven o’clock, and most of us hang our coats on chairs around George’s table, a regular patron since I’ve been coming here nearly two years ago. 

               Last night, there were nine coats on four seats surrounding a table barely big enough for two people.

               I’ll probably catch hell for this but I’ll be gone Sunday, heading back to Wisconsin. It seems to me that most of the women are beginner dancers, with only one or two years of experience. The leaders, on the other hand, are lifelong dancers who’ve forgotten more dance steps than even they can remember.

               At about 9:30, the crowd on the dance floor starts to fill with younger dancers until it is too packed for anyone to move.

               Most of the music playing is country with a strong Latino flavor. Every now and then, I’ll hear a melody that strongly suggests ochos or milonga steps and I’ll dance tango. No one seems to mind and my dance partner and I have even gotten some heart-felt compliments.

               Next month, Mike Malixi and Carrie Field, a pair of tango instructors from Taos, will be here for a workshop and I’m certain they will be at the Wild Horse Saloon after the free lesson at Durango Dance, just a few blocks away.

               Mike is no stranger to dancing tango in a country bar as he hails from Montana. The beautiful Carrie, I’m certain, will be overwhelmed by a slew of dance invitations and she will no doubt delight her partners when they find they  are dancing with a world traveling tanguera.

               As I walked down the street at 10:30, the snow-covered Rocky Mountains fighting the stars for a piece of the sky, I felt elated, relaxed and rejuvenated all at the same time. It was good to be back. Maybe one day I will be back forever.