 When founding editor Chuck Jaekle, announced
the final issue on a the opening page of
Pilgrimage back in 1976, it appeared as though this
journal would be a short-lived venture. Then Dave
Barstow, a former contributor to Pilgrimage, wrote
Jaekle and posed this tongue-in-cheek question: “how
can you end such this fine journal which had the
sensitivity and maturity to publish me?”
“What are you gonna do about it?” Jaekle
wrote back. “If you want this journal, it’s yours.”
“Despite or because of my total lack of
experience in editing and publishing, I said yes,”
Barstow would later write. So began his term as editor
and publisher of Pilgrimage.
With wife Marcia contributing
her skills as business manager to
the venture, the Barstows were
able to sustain Pilgrimage for 25
years—quite an accomplishment
in an of itself.
But Pilgrimage was more
than a literary journal. Over the
years, it provided a home for new
and established writers whose
soulful reflections along the way
helped establish a hospitable
and vibrant community in print.
Once described by Robert Bly
as “one of the best journals in
the country,” Pilgrimage served
a loyal audience of readers,
writers, seekers, and thinkers.
“It definitely belongs in the rucksack of pilgrims,
adventurers, and those contemplating a...journey
beyond the outskirts of the Average,” wrote Sam
Keen.
In the fall of 2002, tucked away in the
classifieds of Poets and Writers Magazine, I saw
Dave’s ad seeking an editor/publisher to take over:
“Pilgrimage is available at no cost to anyone who
commits to continuing in the tradition of personal
reflective writing.” I was intrigued, having had an
interest not only in autobiographical writing, but in
the notion of pilgrimage, and in the work of editing
and publishing. So we sent e-mails back and forth
for a while. A month later, on a teaching trip back to
Indiana, I had the chance to visit with Dave and Marcia
at their mountain home down in North Carolina.
We settled into a conversation that rambled
through our various interests and backgrounds,
exploring ideas about writing and publishing, and
venturing into the practical realm of producing a
small journal. We followed the twists and turn of
good talk into a convivial spaghetti dinner and a good
bottle of wine. The prospect of carrying on the work
that Dave and Marcia had so ably sustained over the
years seemed even more likely after the time we spent
together that day. A few months
later, knowing that I could
count on Dave and Marcia for
their advice and expertise, and
believing that there was a niche
for this small magazine and a
role for me to play in producing
it, we made all the necessary
arrangements for Pilgrimage to
head west across the Smokies,
across the Mississippi and the
Great Plains, and on toward the
Continental Divide.
In the summer of 2003,
Pilgrimage found a new home
on the flanks of the Sangre
de Cristo Range in south
central Colorado. This place
and this region will shed a
little southwestern light into the territory that this
publication has explored in the past. But my hope too
is that Pilgrimage will continue to create a widespread
community in print. And that it will continue to
serve an eclectic fellowship of readers, writers,
poets, naturalists, activists, contemplatives, seekers,
adventurers and other kindred spirits whose images,
stories, and reflections you will find on these pages.
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