Backroad to Boulder

On my drive from Telluride to Boulder I discovered a whole, vast section of Colorado that I had never explored before! That kind of revelation I find immensely exciting and satisfying. For my Hawaii friends, Montrose is to Telluride what Kahului is to the West Side. It is a town about 90 minutes away that provides less expensive and vastly more options for all the crap you need in your life. Telluride, by the way, years ago passed an ordinance that disallowed all chain stores and restaurants. Target? Drive to Montrose. Safeway? Hop in the car. Sears, Sports Authority, JC Penney, Walgreens, Subway, Taco Bell...you get the idea. It is simultaneously liberating and inconvenient to live in a town where consumerism is unique, expensive and at times, incredibly inconvenient. But you sort of make a day of it, stopping at the hot springs on the way home for a soak or a margarita in Ridgway.

My point to all this is that I decided that I would take an alternate and possible more lengthy route up through the state to spend a few more days in balmy Boulder with Kelly and Clio before flying home to North Carolina. Why, you ask? Well, for starters I was rather hung over. Surprisingly so, considering the few drinks I consumed and the early hour at which I collapsed into my bed. But there it is. I'm getting old--or at least my liver is. We had a fun evening out at the Excelsior, wine and pasta and lots of laughs, myself, KJ, Dawn, Peggy and Meghan but I was neglectful with photos and cannot show you our bleary faces. I am the only unwed unmother of the group, which is neither here nor there, but we toasted our friend and the town doctor who was in Montrose giving birth to a little carrot-top as we dined. Way to go, Sharon!! I think we decided to leave when the table beside us asked to be moved!

So anywho, I get up on Thursday morning and make some final rounds in town, dropping an old snowboard off at the freebox (I will explain this one later as I sense this entry will be wordy and devoid of photos--actually, I take that back, read THIS), getting a cheap ski pass (THANKS Jeremy!), saying farewell to a few folks and treating myself to a yummy spicy hot chai--sometimes sugar can jump-start a hangover but apparently not this time. Nineteen degrees!!! Yes, Indian summer in Telluride can be oh so un-summery. Quick stop at my new an improved and scaled-down storage unit to drop a couple of things off and THEN...an alternate route to Boulder. Typically, I would have shot up on I-70, which is beautiful in its own right, passing through Glen Canyon and over Vail Pass--you can get there sometimes in under 6 hours, which is making really good time. I sensed that with my impaired state and no cds or companionship, the highway drive might prove to be, well, dangerous. For real. So I shot over from Montrose to Gunnison (the Kahului of Crested Butte), where I noticed that a good 92% of the humans out and about were heavy-set hunters hauling trailers with what initially appeared to be upside-down chairs and couches, but upon closer inspection (through my camera's zoom lens) actually revealed themselves as deer and elk legs--hooves sticking straight up in the air! Oh and lots of McCain/Palin signage.

Even though I had eaten a sub from this cool local Subwich place in Montrose, it became alarmingly clear when I reached "Gunny" that I wanted--no, cancel that--NEEDED a major source of grease. For those of you who have not yet visited a Sonic, they have these cheese fries ("Super Sonic size, please" I ordered) that you actually need a fork to eat them with and are immensely satisfying. That and a cherry limeade that was almost too big for me to pick up with one hand. Now, I had a moment, as they say, while I was waiting for my order of sugar and fat, and it was a pause hallmarked by pure and undiluted gratitude. I am watching a Sonic employee walking--no, trudging--to work, perhaps from her house a short distance away, drawing her final puff of inspiration from a cigarette, and crushing it out on the garbage can before entering her workplace. And I'm watching her, and suddenly I am thinking about my time off, driving around Colorado, and all the people working in all the less-than-desireable jobs that are making this possible for me. The immensity of it was rather overwhelming, even in or maybe because of my state of mind. From the guy who works at the rental car desk in Boulder (that's his JOB), to the state highway people that care enough to get funding to post signs about watching for wildlife, to the construction workers who stand out there in that sun and wind and cold, telling us when to slow down and when to stop--they are out there ALL DAY, and then go home eat dinner go to sleep and do it all over again the next day. And that woman in the Subwich place, all she did was lean over the meat slicer and slice meat for ever single order that came in. All day. And the people that work in the gas stations, sitting behind that counter all day, just ringing stuff in for strangers, all.day.long. A convenience store is their work environment! And how about the who-knows-where-they-are Asians that built my cell phone, so I could talk to Hilary while I drove past the Collegiate Peaks later that day? They are probably in some crappy factory, just eking out a living so I won't have to be bored for part of the day. And then back to that girl coming in to work at Sonic in Gunnison, which, by the way is one of the coldest towns in Colorado because of the way the cold air settles into the valleys at night there--she is probably making, what, $15,000 a YEAR? If? I just suddenly got it. The thought and feeling of how priveleged I am almost made me lose my appetite. And then she handed me my Super Sonic Size Cheese Fries and I had to ask for a fork so I could eat them as I drove my SUV towards Monarch Pass with the heat on high.

Highway 285 heads up north of Monarch Pass, through the center of Colorado and even though it took me a bit longer than the highway drive, it was worth every minute. I must have seen thousands of horses. Hundreds of sheep and goats. Tens of thousands of cows. Red-tailed hawks, deer and elk, all hanging out talking about how much they don't want to be someone's upside-down chair at the end of the day.

By the time I got to the outskirts of Denver, I realized I needed a map to navigate the snarl of highways towards Boulder--and then remembered (!) that I had found a stack of maps when I cleaned out my storage unit and the Colorado map was on the floor in the back seat area. Well, being too stubborn to stop driving (mostly because I had passed a few hunters and didn't want to end up behind them again because it was actually a lot of work passing them in the first place, with no passing zones and steep hills and such) I tried to open and read the map as I swerved around corners, and quickly concluded that that tactic was actually life-threatening. So I winged it. And ended up in the southEAST corner of Denver, exactly the opposite of where I wanted to be. Consulting the map was useless as, it turns out, my map was published some time in the early '90's. Yes, cities change.

But I made it. Kelly and Clio were home and happy for my return, and we ordered some innovative Asian food that was brought directly to her front door. All was well. Highway 285 opened my heart to the interior of the state and Sonic opened my eyes to the cogs of the world.

Boulder and Beyond

I still haven't finished writing about the yoga workshop in Jackson, but I will get that posted as soon as I can. It is more reflective than just my journeys and want to give it the focus it deserves. For now, let me fill you in on my time since I left Wyoming.

I flew from Idaho Falls to Boise, then zipped into Denver, where Layla and her 3-year old daughter Isabela, whom I had not met before, picked me up and took me back to their house. I knew Layla and then Emmet, her husband from years ago in Telluride. Layla is an incredible pastry chef and is now quite successful with marketing and selling for Arbonne and Emmet just opend up a little Cuban sandwich and coffee cafe called "Buchi", which is a couple of blocks down the street from their Highlands house, at 2651 W. 38th Avenue. If you are in the area, stop in and get a pressed breakfast or lunch sandwich (pork seems to make an appearance in many of the items!) and a Cuban espresso or cafe con leche.

That is a photo of a shot glass of Cuban espresso, not a cool, foamy dark beer! How about THAT? You can probably guess the voltage of that little glass exceeds your expectation--I got completely wired (although I did have THREE shots over the course of our breakfast there). Emmet gets these crusty mini loaves and stuffs them with all sorts of yummy interior delights and then smooshes them in a panini thing and wraps them in white butcher paper and I can tell you they are incredible and a great price too.

There we all are, with little Isabela. She has this incredible strawberry blond hair and is one of the happiest kids I have been around, super chatty and spirited.

The night before we went out to a New Mexican place and I got cactus! Nopales. I love that--it's so primitive somehow, and I can remember the first time I ate cactus, I was camping in the desert with Swany and our dogs at the time, Teak (the wolf), Bullet (the Rottweiler) and Georgia (my chocolate lab). I think we were in Capitol Reef and I saw that all the cacti had fruited, so we ate the fruits and they tasted like watery strawberries! The nopales that we ate at the restaurant are just the thick green "pads" that have obviously been de-thorned.

Anyway, I hadn't seen Layla or Emmet for 8 years we figured out! They had been in Key West and made it through a handful of hurricanes before throwing the towel in and heading back to Colorado. It is so nice to reconnect with old friends, to find those ways you related before and embrace where they are now and the new qualities they have gained since we last roamed around Telluride, with Disco Night and DJs.

On Tuesday Layla deposited me at Kelly's townhouse in Boulder in the morning and I couldn't WAIT to get out and go for a hike so I went up this little trail that overlooks all of Boulder and about as far as you could see to the north, east and south, and the west you get a perfect view of the Continental Divide! It was sunny and warm and just right for my first day. When Kelly got home we went out for sushi and caught up! She has had her townhouse for about a year and she has great views of the Boulder Flatirons and I love her decorating style, sort of Bohemian mod.

Love those Colorado skies!

Kelly also has an incredible dog, Clio that is an unusual and not seen too often breed called Leonberger. They hail from some German town called Leonberg and as you can see, her other name is "Fuzzy." Here is the description from Wikipedia, and I have to say it is quite accurate:

According to the original purpose, the Leonberger is a large, strong, beast-like yet dainty dog. He is distinguished by his balanced build and confident calmness, yet with quite a lively, friendly temperament. Males, in particular, are powerful and strong. Leonbergers love the water and can hunt for wild salmon in their natural environment(s).

Check her out:

Now, I am going to say something here that many may feel is somewhat blasphemous, but I am going to go ahead and put it in print: After being in Jackson Hole, Wyoming for the weekend, I can't help but observe that something about Colorado, in comparison, seems somehow...light. It's sunny and warm and light and people are sunny and warm and light. Wyoming had corridors of beasts, bison and moose and elk, and then huge predators hyperforaging in their wake. It just felt so much more rugged and wild and dangerous, colder and windier and just plain remote. Which I like. A lot. And then I get to breezy Colorado and I have to admit it just felt a little lightweight compared to the wilderness I had just experienced (on a very small scale) in Wyoming. And I love Colorado. A lot. And I think about the bluegrass fans and the hula hoopers and sure, I am in Boulder which has a really mild climate and lots of really aware people, but I just felt a little wistful for that sense I had in Jackson that you really are in the wild west back there and you are perhaps a few degrees closer to the food chain.

But let's get back to how great Boulder is! And the yoga--so many instructors, so little time. I went to two classes at Om Time, both taught by Tarah, whom I liked immediately and connected with her teaching style immediately, partly because (as we determined) we have a similar practice with similar challenges which meant I integrated her verbal alignments easily. We did a two hour Level 3 practice on Thursday and I got so much out of it! Lots of new poses and assists with other students, forged new territory and had a fun time to boot. I think we would be friends if I lived there. Boulder has lots of options for how to spend your money, which I have been avoiding since I am unemployed and we are facing a recession/depression that seems to be just beginning to rear its head.

Kelly and I made two killer meals, one was butternut squash gnocchi on Wednesday, and Thursday she grilled an organic pork tenderloin with a raspberry chiptole sauce, and we had kale, quinoa and roasted beets. And wine. And watched Grey's Anatomy, which was incredibly disappointing. They gotta spice that show up with more sex or potential sex and some scandal and intrigue.

Today, Friday, I rented a car and drove to Santa Fe for a weekend of yoga with John Friend. The drive was 6 hours, as predicted, but I guess I have been super spoiled from living on an island for the past 6 years, because that was a LONG 6 hours! You head south out of Denver and cross the border into New Mexico right around 3 1/2 hours and just past a charming little town called Trinidad that I stopped in long enough to know I wanted to go back, and to pee.

Right now I am in my room at the Santa Fe Residence Inn Marriott and I have to take a moment to talk about how great Marriott is, as a company to work for as well as a lodging option. If you haven't considered working for Marriott, maybe now is the time. They have fantastic associate benefits, one of which I am exercising now--killer room rates. This place is like a condo--full kitchen, fireplace, couch and king size bed, and everyone is always so helpful and friendly.

The last time I was in Santa Fe was in the summer of, god, when was it? the summer of '96? '97? Not sure, but I came down here for a Widespread Panic concert at the incredible venue Paolo Soleri. I can't seem to find a good site to link you to it, but it was named after an Italian dude who did some incredible stuff with architecture an visioning, basically. Anyway, now that I think about it, I was actually there two summers in a row for two concerts. The second I went to with Kelly's now ex-boyfriend, Mark, who is smart and fun and an incredibly talented graphic designer and that was fun, but the first one really stands out in my mind because at the time I was driving an Isuzu Trooper whose starter had decided to stop working a few months prior to our scheduled rock and roll frenzy. At the time I discovered the starter needed some assistance, it just so happened that I had a Budweiser beer bottle under the driver's seat (don't ask) and it also just so happened that a single tap with that bottle on my starter would encourage the Trooper to roar to life and I would be on my way. My memories of that particular concert in Santa Fe involve me and my companions not being able to find that magical bottle (perhaps one of use wisely decided we should clean out open containers before attending a concert in a different state?) and all of them, all guys, pushing my car across burning hot parking lots , trying to gain enough speed for me to pop the clutch and get us going again. I also sat on my Ray Bans and crushed them on that trip. AND there were forest fires, and we drove through pinon pine and sagebrush smoke through northern New Mexico on the way back to Telluride.

I caught a spectacular sunset this evening:

from outside my room. The clouds around the sun looked like molten bronze, this radiant metallic texture that framed the yolky sun as it slipped from sight. Nice way to start my yoga weekend here, yes?