I woke up early (3:15) and found myself reading on Facebook that Curtis Imrie had died.
Curtis. When I speak to people who are interested into getting into Pack Burro Racing, there comes a time when we discuss the community. I have often said that PBR is its own reality TV show waiting to be made, with a mix of characters that seem straight out of a movie. And Curtis was one of the guys at the top of that “characters” list in my mind.
From what I heard, he was combing his burro Sanjurro for a show at the National Western Stock Show, sat down, closed his eyes and quietly succumbed to a fatal heart attack. I don’t know if that is true but if it is, it does bring some comfort that Curtis’ last moments were adjacent to one of the animals he so much loved.
I met Curtis in 2010 at Fairplay in my first pack burro race. I had sort of met him before that because you could not browse anywhere on the internet regarding pack burro racing too long before you came across Curtis and his donkeys.
He was some combination of politician, actor, cowboy of the west, activist, hippie, elder statesman and pack burro racer. He had won the Fairplay World Championship 3 times, was one of the people that got the WPBA going on its feet, had been running burros for over 40 years including the Fairplay race (29 miles up to 13000 foot plus Mosquito Pass), and was a historic glue to the old days of the “sport” to the new. He had jean jacket that had more patches on it than a Boy Scout Merit Badge Sash. There were stories of him riding a motorcycle through a dorm at the Yale campus.
And he was eager to talk about it, make videos about, blog about it. Half the time his stuff sounded like some mixed up babble on the event, but it was part of his charm – his enthusiasm was infectious.
It pissed people off too. He was not all positive cheerleader all the time for everyone. He was a competitor. He got in my craw a bit last year after Jack and I lost Fairplay by a nose to Kurt Kordcamp and Mary Margaret. Mary Margaret was his burro. He announced there was a new sheriff in town on Facebook. My ego felt a bit bruised. His “endorsement” mattered to me because he was a guy that had done it. The next week Jack and I won and Kurt and Mary were well back. When I found him I teased Curtis by singing to him “I shot the sheriff.” He laughed at me and grinned, “got in your head there a bit, eh?” like he knew what was going to happen all along.
Age was catching up to him, as his knees increasingly were a problem for him when running. But he was still looking to run anyway, acting truly as if he knew there were no bonus points for showing up at the end of this race looking pretty or having shiny parts. None of us in the burro community expected him to go like this … I sort of thought that non thinking thing that I’d see him at Fairplay’s start line for as long as I’d be in the sport. Life reminds us otherwise.
Hal Walter said today, “he truly outlived us all.” Thanks for the memories Curtis, you were a good one.
