"Telluride is known as a tough town, she's pretty but she's pretty damn mean.
Good luck only lasts for a little while, then you sleep with your own shattered dreams.
The Ute's dropped a curse on this valley, some say it still stands today,
White man won't keep any riches, and his woman will run away.
Never will find any happiness, money will slip through your hands,
Telluride has taken the toughest and the best and buried them deep in the land."
Over the years I have heard different versions of the curse the Ute Indians laid upon the Telluride valley when the white miners and settlers finally drove them for good from one of their most sacred lands. The one that really stuck with me was the one that said no white man's family will ever be happy, prosperous, and ever able to stay in the valley for more than 100 years, or three generations. As I watch the last of the old time locals and/or their kids move away, fleeing the hoards of tourists or crushed under the price of living and of real estate, I remember this version of the curse.