On Wednesday, June 24th my friend Virgile and I hit the road to start meandering our way from Los Angeles to Lafayatte, Louisiana via a circuitous northern route that passed through Denver, Colorado. This trip had been given immense, long term planning in comparison to the rest of my covid era maneuverings. We had known our route, and when we were leaving, for well over a week! Getting out of Los Angeles the morning of departure was a nightmare as expected. I needed to make sure the cats (and the apartment itself) I was cat sitting were turned over in mint condition, and I needed to dump my old crappy car in a secure location so it: a) would not accumulate tickets while I was gone, and b) would still run when I returned to Los Angeles and needed to again putter around town in it.
The road back was stretched over 5 days, with the trip being divided into two massive, horrible driving days; two slightly less bad, though longer than you’d like driving days; and one day to sight see (such as you can do now) in Denver. The driving portion itself was not nearly as taxing as I thought it would be. We got in a good rhythm and pretty much split driving 50/50 the whole route. I found it actually helps you to drive a longer shift, and not get that weird tired/stressed driving edginess, when you know there is someone you can sub in when you really start feeling like shit. Additionally, we were smart about filling an ice chest with snacks and booze (for the end of day nightcap), which at the very least endowed us with the mindset that we had our act together. And then there was fucking Utah! Wow! Like most things that I have not had previous, explicit, direct experience with previously, I knew very little about Utah… other than the Mormon thingy. But, it turns out, the entire state looks like the landscape for an alien film set – either a film about where aliens live, or a movie set designed by aliens to look majestic…. Something! The whole state was literally one epic national park. I shall return alien friends!
We stayed in the Colfax area in Denver, which is apparently a pretty hot little zone. I’ve been to Denver 3 times now, and each time, this now being over a span of 14 years, I have been struck by their homeless population. This is not said in a way to sound condescending, or vent about Denver, but rather just to convey my honest observation that I’ve always found Denver’s homeless population to be different. I have lived in cities that unfortunately have had significant issues with homelessness – New Orleans and Los Angeles – but I’ve found most of the interactions between those that are living on the streets, and the subsequent passersby, to be relatively benign or unremarkable. Not in Denver. In Denver, if you’re a dude walking down the sidewalk, and you’re within a shouting distance of a homeless person, you’d best assume you’re already in a conversation with them. They will shout directly at you, and they do not give an iota of fucks about who you feel about it, or if it make sense. Honestly, it’s hard to tell the intent, as it doesn’t even really seem to be about panhandling; it’s almost more about venting. So, in this apartment on Colfax where we were crashing with a friend, the crackle of homeless folks screaming was vibrant, and absolutely wild. Additionally, Denver had just experienced massive, massive protests right before we got there, and several of the government buildings were graffiti tagged to the nines. The whole scene really gave Denver a tactile edge, even more so than what I had experienced going through Oakland a few weeks before.
So, despite it being brief and weird, I had a terrific time in Denver. I can only imagine what a swell place it would be to live minus Covid, as its public culture really seemed to be kicking – bars, restaurants, dispensaries, coffee shops – I developed a super quick crush. I also got to hike in and around Red Rocks, which was its own little sassy thrill for me. I even beat my friend on a race up to the top of the steps (person shall remain nameless!). The rest of the journey back to Louisiana was mainly comprised of pragmatic, concerted driving pushes, and crashing at two different Comfort Inn and Suites (Utah and Texas). Fortunately, the camaraderie stayed strong throughout, and we never forgot to keep the nightcap on ice and quickly accessible - our turnaround time on bar setup in the room upon check in was consistently rapido (never more than 6 minutes). We even remembered the limes!