As a Colorado native, Denver-born in the 1950s and now living in Durango heaven, I have only recently become aware of the imperfect nature of our rectangular state. While I understand the longitudinally challenged Utah border near Paradox, I have not been able to find a story behind the notch in our southern border southwest of Chromo in Archuleta County. Can you help? Sign me, Wrecked Angle

First, let’s establish that Colorado is neither perfect nor rectangular.

The first part is painfully obvious. But Action Line won’t get into Colorado’s faults, foibles, fatuousness, flimflammery, flaws, flubs and foolishness.

And those are but some of the F-words. There are others. We’ll move on.

Regarding the rectangle, Colorado appears to be a symmetrical box.

But zoom in on Google maps and you’ll see the border jogs – not only at Paradox, but most notably along the New Mexico border, including the weird Chromo kink.

This might be the first and only time Chromo has been called kinky. Again, we’ll move on.

In the mid-1800s, Congress designated the border between the Colorado and New Mexico territories as “the 37th parallel, between the 103rd and 109th meridians.”

So the federal government hired two surveying parties, one in 1868 and the other in 1874.

The limitations of 19th century surveying are staggering. Consider that state-of-the-art technology consists of a transit and compass, chronometer and astronomical readings.

And pack animals, bedrolls and a chuckwagon. You had to really enjoy camping to be a surveyor in those days.

Everything was swell with the border until the turn of the century. Then the states and Congress began bickering about the state line.

A federal survey was redone and the original demarcations were found to be way off. As a result, a large strip of the Centennial State would need to be transferred to the Land of Enchantment.

That strip included most of a town, two villages and five post offices.

Colorado was rightly miffed, New Mexico was thrilled and Congress in 1908 voted to adopt the new line, which President William Howard Taft promptly vetoed.

The issue hit the Supreme Court. In a 1925 ruling (read it at http://tinyurl.com/border-jog) the Supremes said “chill out and get over it.”

Not really, but words to that effect.

Noting that states were created based on the original border and the fact that it had been in effect for a half century, the court said “governments are bound by the practical line that has been established as their boundary, although not precisely a true one.”

The situation at Paradox was also a mapping error.

In 1879, a survey was ordered to draw a straight line from the Four Corners north to Wyoming.

When crews got to Wyoming, surveyors realized they were off, and a westward jog had to exist somewhere.

They discovered a 1-mile deviation over an 8-mile stretch near Paradox. Isn’t it ironic that Paradox would be the site of an official surveying anomaly?

But the story doesn’t end there.

The Four Corners monument is in the wrong spot by 1,807.14 feet to the east, according to the National Geodetic Survey.

Talk about monumental errors!

But moving the Four Corners to the “correct” place would be way over the line.

Thanks to that Supreme Court ruling, the established marker is the correct one despite being incorrect.

So don’t fret about that photo of you on hands and knees at the Four Corners.

You were legally in Colorado, Utah, Arizona and New Mexico at the same time, even though you weren’t.

Email questions to actionline@durangoherald.com or mail them to Action Line, The Durango Herald, 1275 Main Ave., Durango, CO 81301. You can request anonymity if you wonder if the angry wall-builders will encounter the same sort of old surveying mistakes along the U.S.-Mexico border.