Sleepless mountaineering
Colorado gifted me a lot of things. Sleep was not one of them. Having slept only intermittently through Iowa and Nebraska, I was really thrilled to check into my peaceful air bnb in a really sweet residential neighbourhood in Denver. Floor space to do yoga ? Check. Giant bed to get all the zzz's ? Check. Comfy sofa to catch up on reading and calm activities I'm probably too young for ? Check check. Did I utilise any of these amenities ? Of course not. Soon after arriving my lovely host asked if I'd like to join her and her friends for a beer that evening. My one-to-be-polite beer escalated to 3am chats on the porch surrounded by a very great many empty cans and a growing number of hip people. I like to think this was my welcome parade.
The next day I woke up fearfully early to take advantage of my Mountain Zone time. Like the rest of the world, Denver is riding the brunch wave so I paid my dues and hopped on. Something about people in Denver - they're very cool. Not in an NY/LDN kind of affected way. They're cool IN THEIR BONES. But the coolest part of it is that they upped the ante on friendliness (something not typically thought of as a cool trait. Much cooler to be a berk, right ??). I thought I'd reached peak friendly in the Midwest but evidently not. I have to say - up until now I'd been slightly disappointed that the famed 'British accent trick' hadn't seem to be working. You know - the one that gets Colin Frizzle a steamy night by pronouncing 'bottle' so attractively. That just wasn't happening. Until Denver ! Accent is currency ! Evidently there aren't too many Brits passing through these parts because I felt like a rare species. I capitalised on this newfound blessing and was shown around town in the best way - microbreweries mixed with local history lessons; table tennis cocktail bar and hanging out with people's dogs; secret roof top eateries with the politics lowdown. Obviously all these artisan beers and "but this is a MUST HAVE Colorado cocktail" weren't conducive to an early night...
All the same my super human feet were in their trainers early the next morning en route to the mountains. It would have been downright offensive not to pay them a visit. I need to tell you something very important - you all need to instantly sell your worldly belongings and move to Boulder. Seriously, don't even tell your bosses/spouses/banks. Just get out now. I felt like I'd walked into a film set - everything and everyone was beautiful. The one homeless guy I saw looked like he was on a break from being a Calvin Klein model and was really just wishing everyone a good day. It's also hands down the healthiest place I've even been - from babies to grannies, everyone was in their sports gear, eating fruit, exubing vitality. I'm sure the elixir of life comes out of Boulder taps. But really the hiking trails are where it's at. I did a little homework on choosing one. I felt I wanted the level of difficulty that doesn't cross over from sweating to swearing. I picked from a giant list, and read the reviews that fell everywhere on the scale from "ran this with my dog in 90 minutes" (they definitely didn't) to "a few worrying cardiac moments". Well, hopefully I'd fall somewhere between without cashing in on medical insurance. What I hadn't taken into account was the altitude. There's a reason Colorado boasts the mile high city. But despite the breathy, heady highs (lows. They were definitely lows) I scrambled up to the top and felt like an outdoor goddess. Tried not to look at the people next to me with full on baby backpacks or carrying dogs. I literally skipped down, in love with my first Rocky moment.
Needless to say I had to give Denver and its joyful residents a farewell and it seems they won't let you do that without something alcoholic. This last night I had very very little sleep, so it's with much gratitude that I boarded the Mother of All Train Journeys this morning - 33hrs to San Francisco. There's no wifi so I'm writing this to be delivered at a later date. So far it's been 2 hours of what must be the most beautiful railroad in the history of time. Guess that elusive sleep thing will have to wait a little longer....
.....EDIT from future self: I slept.
The next day I woke up fearfully early to take advantage of my Mountain Zone time. Like the rest of the world, Denver is riding the brunch wave so I paid my dues and hopped on. Something about people in Denver - they're very cool. Not in an NY/LDN kind of affected way. They're cool IN THEIR BONES. But the coolest part of it is that they upped the ante on friendliness (something not typically thought of as a cool trait. Much cooler to be a berk, right ??). I thought I'd reached peak friendly in the Midwest but evidently not. I have to say - up until now I'd been slightly disappointed that the famed 'British accent trick' hadn't seem to be working. You know - the one that gets Colin Frizzle a steamy night by pronouncing 'bottle' so attractively. That just wasn't happening. Until Denver ! Accent is currency ! Evidently there aren't too many Brits passing through these parts because I felt like a rare species. I capitalised on this newfound blessing and was shown around town in the best way - microbreweries mixed with local history lessons; table tennis cocktail bar and hanging out with people's dogs; secret roof top eateries with the politics lowdown. Obviously all these artisan beers and "but this is a MUST HAVE Colorado cocktail" weren't conducive to an early night...
All the same my super human feet were in their trainers early the next morning en route to the mountains. It would have been downright offensive not to pay them a visit. I need to tell you something very important - you all need to instantly sell your worldly belongings and move to Boulder. Seriously, don't even tell your bosses/spouses/banks. Just get out now. I felt like I'd walked into a film set - everything and everyone was beautiful. The one homeless guy I saw looked like he was on a break from being a Calvin Klein model and was really just wishing everyone a good day. It's also hands down the healthiest place I've even been - from babies to grannies, everyone was in their sports gear, eating fruit, exubing vitality. I'm sure the elixir of life comes out of Boulder taps. But really the hiking trails are where it's at. I did a little homework on choosing one. I felt I wanted the level of difficulty that doesn't cross over from sweating to swearing. I picked from a giant list, and read the reviews that fell everywhere on the scale from "ran this with my dog in 90 minutes" (they definitely didn't) to "a few worrying cardiac moments". Well, hopefully I'd fall somewhere between without cashing in on medical insurance. What I hadn't taken into account was the altitude. There's a reason Colorado boasts the mile high city. But despite the breathy, heady highs (lows. They were definitely lows) I scrambled up to the top and felt like an outdoor goddess. Tried not to look at the people next to me with full on baby backpacks or carrying dogs. I literally skipped down, in love with my first Rocky moment.
Needless to say I had to give Denver and its joyful residents a farewell and it seems they won't let you do that without something alcoholic. This last night I had very very little sleep, so it's with much gratitude that I boarded the Mother of All Train Journeys this morning - 33hrs to San Francisco. There's no wifi so I'm writing this to be delivered at a later date. So far it's been 2 hours of what must be the most beautiful railroad in the history of time. Guess that elusive sleep thing will have to wait a little longer....
.....EDIT from future self: I slept.
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