Denver was a blurrrrr.

Our first major city since we left MKE and one of Michael’s old ski bum stomping grounds…We were bound for a little fun.

Parked and walked down 16^th Street mall area. Hustlin’ and bustlin’ in a convergence of bodies in this vastly sprawling city. We’ve been here ten minutes. I think I love it here. It smells of concrete, beer and Mexican food. Hallelujah.

Denver’s weird grid tricks Michael’s Google Maps app and we walked the super scenic route to grab a cold one by Coors Field. Normally wouldn’t mind – but my Northwood’s disposition is showing and  they say Denver is always sunny but they mean it’s freakin’ hot and I’m roasting. Remembering the cool north, unpredictable winds and temperatures. I’ll regret this moment come December frosts.

Sweat trickled down my neck, making my braid stick to slick skin. Wandered awhile, takin’ in the mile high city. I am in need of a new zip-code, after all.

Early Saturday evening and we’re ready to start our little busking project. I jam out and people watch while window shopping on 16^th Street again. Kiddie corner is the Denver Hard Rock Café, where Michael awaits me. Sipping old fashions and flirting with the cute bartender girl. He’s missed the ‘snow bunnies’ I guess…

Meetup with a dear friend. Same as always- he’s all smiles and bouncing around like a golden retriever. Go to a few downtown watering holes and then bunker down at his casa in Cheesman Park. Seems to be where the twenty-somethings congregate.

Catch up, tune in, turn up and play it out. Our first four-walled house stay in days. Crack a Coors Banquet, keeping it classy. Then YouTube into the a.m. Must’ve been a little technology starved – we were so far down music video watching wormholes it was all like MTV circa 98′, pre-Apple musik up in here. Yo.

Wilderness to wireless. Feels strange after growing to love the contours of roots and rocks against a tent floor.

Denver day two and we decide to overstay our welcome and another night. Before I could say “Sunday Funday” I’m been whisked away to a Bengals bar of all places- The Irish Snug- one of Michael’s old haunts, where I happen to be the only Steelers fan in a sea of orange and white….A Bungal I am not.

I maintain a moderately silent jubilation at the Steelers’ steady lead until near the fourth quarter. Impending victory and bottomless mimosas had loosened my tongue and earn me a few choice, contemptuous scowls.

I’ve got work to do, yet I’ve just lost the better part of the afternoon. Seven Hells.

Ah well…to be young.

Michael meets back up with us at “The Snug” throws back a pint and we’re off again.

Carry on throughout the day. Sing, skate, separate- collide and reemerge on the other side of town. We could hardly recognize the day as the same one we started, such was the blur of our escapades.

Busk once more then return to four walls for the first honest to goodness television we’d watched since before Shangri La. Consensus = Shrek = classic.

“Ogres are like onions, end of story bye bye, see ya later!”

We could be twelve year olds if not for the magnificent array of Coors Banquets adorning the coffee table. Not to mention the wine stains and last dregs of a cheap red in the bottoms of 87 cent Wally-World Disney cups. Keepin’ it classy.

Denver done us in, early zzzz’s and headed out in the morning.

Looks like our van puked in homie’s living room. Gather belongings, fond goodbyes and sayonara Denver. Might be back one day.  😉