Denver, CO

I call Juan from Rapid City and let him know we're headed South toward Denver. He drops what he's doing, and when we arrive at 5pm on a Monday, he's left work early to show us around. What a guy.

We drive by the Colorado Capital, past a few architecturally ambitious museums, to Washington Park, around several stadiums, to 16th Street Mall, to Lower Downtown where we get out and walk. A few observations from the tour:

-Wash Park, wow. I've never seen so much concentrated physical activity. It looks like Olympic training facility rather than a public park. Kayaks, mountain bikes, and crazy devices that look like bobsleds with bicycle wheels. The airspace is crowded with volleyballs and footballs and a few of those hot pink frisbees that go really far.

-The Colorado flag has always struck me as odd; it looks like it should belong to Colombia or Costa Rica. I think it should be replaced with the Colorado license plate, which is wonderfully descriptive, and makes me want to move here and ski a lot.

-The good people of Denver clean up after their dogs, drive hybrids, wear comfortable clothes, recycle. Very wholesome. I think I'm going to start eating organic.

We make our way to a rooftop restaurant near Coors Field. The place is appropriately populated with a nice happy-hour crowd in jeans. From our table, we can hear the crowd next door at the Rockies game, and see the sunset over the warehouses and condos of LoDo. Denver on a summer Monday. Really an authentic moment. The kind that makes this crazy trip seem worthwhile and right.

We move to cozy bar on 17th Street, order a few drinks, and sink into big brown leather sofas and catch up. Katie shows up and lends her local perspective, "The best thing about Denver is that it is surrounded by the rest of Colorado". I can see that; Aspen, Vail, Telluride, Boulder are all pretty great. But I think Denver can stand on its own. Sports, scenery, music, art, food, industry, what more could you want? Sunshine? Pretty girls? Check and check.

Scott and I do Tuesday lunch on Josephine. Judging by our facial expressions, the road from Chicago has taken its toll. We're running on bar food and limited sleep. Our backs are sore, clothes dirty, wallets thin. Scott flies home today, but if I'm gonna make it to San Francisco this week, I'm gonna need an kick.

I drop him at Denver International, make the long drive back into downtown, and start flipping through On The Road...

I drive to 27th and Federal ("Our battered suitcases we're piled high on the sidewalk, we had longer ways to go. But no matter, the road is life") then down Larimer Street ("Beyond the glittery street was darkness and beyond the darkness, the West. I had to go").

Energized, I point the Equinox toward the Rockies. Durango is not close. I'm going to have to drive really fast or improvise, and right now, I'm up for either.