Ah, the long expected voyage from Chicago to Denver. I spent two days along the ocean bottom of the Cretaceous Western Interior Sea, aka Iowa/Nebraska. I was actually expecting to be more bored than I was, but then again, Tina Fay is a good companion. She wasn't much help with navigating, but whatever. The eight hours of each of those two days went by relatively quickly, and I was able to reach my quota of views across an ever expanding horizon of fields of gold. I stayed one night in Omaha. Woohoo! Vacation spot! ... Well, I guess if you're a trucker, maybe. I was fortunate enough to find a classy Motel 6, complete with algae filled pool, empty ice machine, unplugged washer/dryer, and instant coffee for breakfast. I was so tired, I went and had a trucker burger at the Sapp Bros. restaurant and passed out. Not in the booth, but almost.
I woke up to a beautiful sunrise with which to continue my voyage. As I approached Denver it was dusk and the mountains were just barely visible in the distance, back-lit by the setting sun. I was to be staying with my VFF's, the Martins. After I recovered from the shock of gazillions of cars and vast stretches of traffic, I was able to find my way to their house. Or what I thought was their house...
I got out the car, bounded up the front step, and rang the doorbell. A dog came to the door barking ferociously. A woman peered through the door window, slllooowly unlocked the dead bolt, and cracked the door open with a quizzical look on her face.
"Hello?"
"Hi, I'm Claire!"... silence. At this point I happened to glance at the number on the house. "It's nice to... oh... wait." Embarrassed blabbering ensues. "Whoops, sorry, I totally have the wrong house." She stares at me. "I was looking for Erin."
Acknowledgment finally shows on her face. "Yeah," she says, "they live down the street." She backs into the house and shuts the door looking at me like I was carrying a sign saying I'm crazy and contagious!
"I'm sorry to disturb you!" I said. And, figuring I couldn't look any weirder, I proceeded to back my car up while driving on the right side of the street until I came to the correct house where the correct dog greeted me, though still barking ferociously.
I was met by Ian's father, Bill, and I proceeded to gab and gab (who's surprised really?). I was informed later that Bill Martin is usually a very quiet man and was congratulated by the other members of the family upon their return for having held an extended conversation with him. The Martins were extremely welcoming and generous, and I cannot thank them enough for letting a stranger like me stay with them. They were extremely busy that week with work, school theater, and refugees. I'm not kidding about the refugees. Apparently the federal government uses Denver as a major relocation center for refugees. The eldest daughter, Erin, works for the African Community Center of Denver and does some amazing work with helping refugees get settled down and accustomed to the generally extreme change in scenery. I know she is organizing and doing fund raising for a huge Thanksgiving dinner for the center which I hope is well attended and runs smoothly.
The next morning, after a wonderful cup of coffee and chat with Ian's mom, Deb, she suggested that I check out the Red Rocks Amphitheater. Without worrying about the address because phsh I have a GPS, it's kind of a big deal, I bounded to the car, but upon typing in the name I realized I couldn't spell amphitheater correctly. Again, just life giving me a little humility check. And I know how to now, obviously! After driving through a cacophony of street lights, I finally made it to the outskirts of Denver and the foothills of the Rockies.
The Red Rocks Amphitheater is crazy! I had no idea that so many famous musicians and bands performed there. It is an ideal setting for the combination of music and nature. The rocks seemed to have exploded out of the ground and look like the dorsal fins of prehistoric creatures frozen beneath the earth. The view towards the city it indescribably horizontal and so contrastingly pancaked, that it makes me wonder what it must have been like to be a bystander for the creation of the Rockies. I mean, that must have been loud. Really, really loud. I know in actuality scientists claim that it was a gradual process with the whole tectonic plates, salt and rock layers moving thing, yadda yadda yadda... but I just imagine a stegosaurus sitting in a lawn chair in the dessert with sunglasses and a cup of ferns enjoying the day, when all of a sudden CRASH!!!! BOOM!!! KAJSIJEIFJAEASDF!!! The earth in front of him and beneath him starts to shake and rumble as a tsunami of rock explodes upward sending debris, trees, boulders, and prehistoric chipmunks flying!! Of course in this vision, the smoke clears and the stegosaurus appears, still in his lawn chair, with his glasses a bit askew, sighing and saying, "Well, so much for my trip to Baja..."
It was at Red Rocks that I was first introduced to the real contrast between the mid-west and Denver. Going up the amphitheater steps I was like a 3 pack-a-day smoker with one lung and cheesecloth over my wind pipe. It was the most humbling and embarrassing staircase I have ever ascended. I literally had to stop every 20 steps. Holy crap.
See tiny person to the lower left for scale reference |
After Red Rocks I meandered to Dinosaur Ridge where remain in the hillside some dino-footprints as well as some bones, which, try as I might, I really couldn't distinguish as any particular body part as the information kiosk said I should, but it was still neat. I thought I would try and go one more place before the sun set and found in my handy-dandy AAA guidebook the Larait loop. Part of it is on a road which winds up the hillside from the town of Golden, up past Buffalo Bill's "grave", and eventually connects with the large westward highway. It was a fun drive and gave me just a taste of what the mountains in the distance looked like. The houses out there were incredible! Some were precariously perched on cliffs overlooking the valley and seemed to be rebelling against the difficulty of the land.
Wednesday I went on a short jaunt in Deer Creek Canyon, another park near Red Rock. I was hoping to assist the further acclimation of my respiratory system by doing a small hike. Unfortunately, part way up the trail while I was musing about the hopeful possibility of seeing a rattlesnake or scorpion, I was reminded of another resident of the area: the mountain lion. Great! I thought, and for the rest of the hike try as I might to talk down the likelihood and to follow the safety recommendation of talking loudly, or in my case singing jazz tunes, every rustle of a leaf, every bird jumping suddenly out of the bushes, every mean jabbering squirrel made my heart leap out and run away leaving my legs right where they were. It also didn't help that as I child I watched the movie Homeward Bound, in which a mountain lion sneaks up on three house pets from behind a perfect sneaky-boulder of which this canyon was bountifully equipped! Despite my anxiousness, I lived, and did have a lovely hike. I just became conscious that my plans of hiking alone in the west for the rest of the trip were going to be more mentally challenging than I originally anticipated. After some thought, I realized that if I do see a mountain lion, I know what to do. If it happens it happens, and it shouldn't keep me from enjoying what I love. It is also an interesting experience, smothering your fears, and one which I am going to say builds character. You just need to avoid foolishness and stupidity.
On Thursday I braved the Denver public transportation system and ventured downtown. The bus pulled up to the stop, the doors opened, and there was Morgan Freeman, sitting in the driver’s seat! At least it could have been him. I swear he has a twin that doesn't smile as much, because that's who was driving my bus! He patiently, while yet obviously bored and annoyed, helped me figure out how to pay my bus fare. I get nervous on public transportation sometimes if I'm not sure how the payment method works. I don't want to draw attention to myself by seeming like a tourist, but I have to balance that with people not thinking I'm an idiot. Though I guess with strangers, I'd rather have the latter. After transferring at a stop which was under construction and closed and then waving down the bus together with a little old lady, who I know the bus stopped for and not me so I am very glad she was there, I made it into the city. I didn't have a specific plan, but when I saw the art museum, I just had to go in. It is an intriguing building; it has a sculpture of a giant dust pan and broom outside of it. I am very glad I did because their special exhibition was the work of Xu Beihong. I didn't know anything about him, but I learned of his tremendous influence on Chinese art and teaching. His works capture a spirit and a movement that feels like the wind when you view his paintings. The simplicity, purity, and freedom of watercolors make even more amazing what he was able to do with them.
I walked to the capital building to find homeless people conducting occupy Denver. Not to judge, but most of them seemed like they were already on the streets, dressed like characters right out of Rent or some other form of 80's grunge movement, and figured they didn't have anything else to do, so might as well protest. I definitely got holla'd at, "Hey pretty lady! Can I walk with yooou?" I had no idea I would be seeing that side of Denver that day. I took the 15L bus to head back to the Martin’s house, and ohhh my, there was the best darn people watching I even done seen. It was great, until I got off at the wrong stop and had to walk eight blocks to get to the right stop and then sprint across the street to catch the next bus. All a day in the life.
On Friday I took a trip down to Colorado Springs to visit my UNH friend Allsion Gehnrich who is working at the Broadmoor Resort as a Pastry Chief. How fun does that sound?! She made the most amazing carrot cake I have ever had… I’m drooling now thinking of it. I got there in the late morning and we decided to go see the Garden of the Gods, both of us intrigued by the possibilities. Secret? I’m totally BFF’s with Hercules now. Yes, be jealous. We were greeted by rock spires thrusting out of the ground and… a wedding? Yep, there was definitely a wedding happening with iPod produced surround sound elevator music playing. There were also a few groups of rock climbers making their way up the red walls. They were gathering an audience, and I think they liked it. In the distance, Pike’s Peak reigned while surrounded by the foothills and canyons. We weaved through the spires and formations with names like “kissing camels” and caught up on each other’s lives.
Allison had been wanting to go to the Zoo that the founder of the resort established because they have giraffes, and she LOVES giraffes. I was amazed by the number and variety of animals they had there! Its Colorado Springs for goodness sake and they have hippos! I hadn’t been to a zoo in a long time, and I had forgotten how amazing some animals are, and how I would not want to meet some without a barrier, such as the mountain lions… I don’t know what it is with these guys! I don’t think twice about bears when in New Hampshire, but bears don’t stalk you! As we passed the mountain lion exhibit, one of the lions and I locked eyes. We just kept looking at each other and I thought, Ok, you’re going to practice staring down a lion just like Mowgli with Shere Khan in the Jungle Book (1994 live version. See it, it's a masterpiece). As I stared at her, a guttural growl rose from her throat. She was growling at me, and then she did the big-fanged-cat hiss. Allison told me I should hiss back, and of course I did, and then commenced a back and forth session of glares and hissing. I’m not sure if I am more or less afraid, but I have eye contested with a mountain lion.
The lions could not stop staring at the bride's dress! |
ok... I might be nervous if I saw this in the woods... |
... or this |
On Saturday, I went back to Denver to go see Molly Martin, the youngest daughter, in her high school’s production of Into the Woods. I had never seen the show and it was very well done, and Molly was by far the best singer in the bunch, and I’m not just saying that. She is beautiful and her face lights up on stage! It was fun to have heard about the rehearsals all week and then see the show, not to mention it brought back some memories…
Now, after dinner and farewells to the Martins, I am headed up to Boulder with great anticipation! I have Mansfield Park on CD to accompany me now. Nothing like a little Jane Austin to put you in the mood!