Rocky Mountain High -- a Travelogue

Who DOESN'T like to start their day off with a little John Denver? (Don't answer that.)

My team of the day is the Colorado Rockies. As such:

http://mlb.mlb.com/team/

I'm not an expert on this team, but I do wonder: Does it date me that I still consider them an expansion team? (Again, don't answer that.)

It's becoming apparent that my knowledge of major league baseball is frozen somewhere around 1993 or thereabouts. 

ANYWAY....the Rockies. Colorado. Been there once, loved it to pieces.

The summer before I started law school, my best friend from college and I decided to take a road trip. We had four goals -- 

1. Be in Denver to see Blues Traveler at Red Rocks on July 3rd 
2. Be at the Grand Canyon by July 11th (or thereabouts) for our campsite reservation at the North Rim
3. Find me an apartment in Minneapolis 
4. Get me on my plane back to Pittsburgh on July 21. 

I moved out of my apartment in DC, and flew to Madison (with ungodly amounts of stuff, including one giant hardsided suitcase, a giant duffle bag [hockey-sized], two carry-ons, a backpack, a purse, and a guitar. The guitar is pink.) These were the days when airline staff could take pity on a traveler, and they did -- they only charged me $50 total for extra luggage. Considering each bag weighed at least 60 lbs., that was pretty nice of them. I may have cried a little.

So I arrived in Madison, and we loaded up her Ford Explorer and, after a stop for provisions at the Kraft Foods Company Store (her dad worked for Oscar Mayer) we took off. That truck was FULL of our luggage, and we added to that a tent, sleeping bags, ground cover, beef jerky, Lunchables (TM), packs of bologna and cheese slices, cases of beer and Diet Coke, grapes, cans of Pringles (TM) and other "convenience foods", and -- I'm ashamed to admit this but about 6 cartons of Marlboro Ultra Lights (Did you know that Phillip Morris owns Kraft? Purchased on-site with the employee discount, those were the cheapest smokes EVER.)

We drove through Illinois, stopping at Ronald Reagan's birthplace to take pictures (I think I was a Republican then), and on through Iowa on Interstate 80. Dodged a tornado somewhere near Ames and made it to Omaha in time to hit the Cracker Barrel for some chicken-fried steak. We drove on to Denver the next day, where we were told that John Popper had some sort of health problem (not really a surprise, right?) and that, as a result, the concert was cancelled. So we enjoyed the many delights of the city of Denver (about which there are stories that I really should NOT put on the Internet, even if very few people read this) and drove on to Pike's Peak. We drove up to the top, I was white-knuckled the whole time, and at the summit we each had a cigarette and threw up. Sarah also almost passed out -- altitude...who knew? Not us, apparently.

We made our way across Colorado for the next week or so, going white-water rafting in the Arkansas River through the Royal Gorge, riding horses in the San Juan mountains, stopping at every single Dairy Queen we saw (I can spot them from miles away - it's a gift), gambling at the Ute casino (I won $150 on quarter slots!) and alternating between camping and staying in cheap hotel rooms. It. Was. Awesome. Driving through the mountains, narrow and twisty and climby, became second nature, and it was some of the most amazing natural beauty I had ever experienced. Jagged peaks, tall pine forests that stretched on forever, the smell of super clean air, and charming little towns like Silverton and Ouray made me want to stop the car and never leave. And did I mention I purchased some fabulous cowboy boots?

After successfully avoiding contracting hanta virus at Four Corners, we finally arrived at the Grand Canyon and our campsite, where I got to sit in front of a campfire and play Indigo Girls songs on my pink guitar in my brand-new hat and boots (c'mon, don't you want to be my friend? I sound super-fun, right?), and we hiked down into the canyon the next day. On our way back up, an 80 year man passed us by at a good clip, so in our non-athletic despair we ate a can of Cheez Balls (TM) and then started the trek back. We made it back to Cortez that night, and then from there to Ogalalla and arrived in Burnsville, MN. At that point, driving for 7 hours without stopping, and then trading places and going for another 7, was nothing. We also stopped speaking to each other in Ogalalla, so that was kinda awkward...

But we found me an apartment and started speaking again, and I made it back home -- in time to wash my clothes and dust off my guitar and put it all in a moving truck and drive it on out to my new apartment in Uptown.

So when I think of the Rockies, THAT'S what I think of -- the piney mountains, a loaded-down car, lots of cans of Cheez Balls, and a time in my life when all I really had to do for three weeks was get to a concert on time and enjoy the rest of the (very long) ride.