Can You Say Colorado – Photobomb

“I’M A GIRAFFE”

****Addendum****

Another another history essay of mine, published by the Three Rivers Park District, is now live on their blog archive! It’s about the ruins and remnants of buildings left behind at Spring Lake Regional Park in Prior Lake, Minnesota. You can read it by clicking here, or read my other history blogs (about Silverwood Park and ice harvesting, respectively) by clicking here or here.

This is, sadly, the last blog I wrote for them before leaving the Park District to move to Sweden. However, I also worked on outdoor interpretive signage and a virtual tour for the Pierre Bottineau house, in Maple Grove, Minnesota. Hopefully those signs will be in place soon.

****Back To The Blog****

Now that is an old meme, huh? I first heard that meme around… high school? Middle school? Not sure when Vine was really a thing, but I feel like maybe middle school… But as it so happens, I just presented my book to my old middle school teachers! And the Forest Preserve District of DuPage County! And the bookshop I grew up in! And… well, you know what, hold on a second.

You may or may not have noticed that there was no blog last week. This was… not intentional. This was not part of some sort of scheme of mine to do something meta or weird or unexpected. It was an accident, one that I attribute to the increasing chaos of my life pre-moving to Sweden and a fully-packed existed of travel, book signings, seeing friends and family, the whole works. Which are frankly, you know, pretty damn good reasons to miss writing for whatever this is. So, despite it being the first time I’ve missed a weekly blog post in over five years and more than 250 posts (I’m not doing myself any favors here by telling you that), I’m not too upset. I’ve earned a break. I literally moved across the ocean, published a book, and said goodbye to my closest friends and family until at least Christmas. This blog can wait.

But I’ll cut you a deal: Maybe, since I missed last week (and am now late again this week; I moved to Sweden though, I’ve got things to be doing!), I’ll try and get two full-sized blogs this week instead? Or, at the very least, two-and-a-half next week. Well, you’ll see why the “half,” anyway. But how does that sound? It’s an offer you can’t refuse because you have literally no say in how I run this blog (unless you have legitimate legal concerns and/or solid advice, then you might have a surprising amount of say), and I’m going to do it anyway. Or at least try to. So let’s go.

So here’s another travel photobomb that I’m getting to before I even talk about my trip to Big Europe with Nick, but I swear we’ll get to that. Over the last (two lasts? The weekend of the 11th, anyway) weekend ago, I went to visit a friend of mine in Colorado. Her name’s Annamae, and we’ve been friends for a while now. I’m actually not sure how long, come to think of it. Since, like, 2018? At least fall of 2018, probably. We met at college, in an environmental activism club that I’m surprised I haven’t talked about more on this blog, considering how crucial it’s been to my development and my college experience. I’ve actually wrote about our travels together once before on here, in fact. But she’s become one of my closest friends in recent years, so I’m really glad that I had a chance to visit her before I made the leap across the pond.

I’m also really glad we have a similar sense of humor and a shared love of taxidermy.

After the chaos of the O’Hare airport and my computer eating itself on the flight into Colorado (which I’ve already discussed, not going through that again), I had three-ish days in Colorado to spend with my friend. And the first night, since I had flown in so late already, was spent getting to meet her friends from the co-op she lived in. Fun fact, I also used to live in a co-op for a year in college, and my mom called it the hippie commune! And she was right! For those of you who aren’t familiar with this interesting form of housing, a co-op is kind of like where everyone pools their money together to pay for rent, utilities, food, house maintenance, things like that. It’s usually also associated with community living, cooking for everyone or cooking together, friendly bonding, things like that. I met really, really great people living in my co-op, and it sure seemed like Annamae has, too. But hers had a gas firepit, which mine did not, so that’s a plus.

Anyway, a solid chunk of the weekend was spent spending time with Annamae’s friends and meeting them, and all of them are universally good people. So that’s a good thing! We event went to a casual slackline event held at a local park and I wasn’t even awkward about it because her friends are so nice! And I’ve grown a lot and become more social since my awkward days but, you know, having good friends makes a big difference. Speaking of slacklining (walking/balancing on a thin sheet of fabric suspended a few feet above the ground), and its associated highlining (walking/balancing on a thin sheet of fabric suspended a few hundred feet above the ground), I don’t know what it is about Colorado but you get some real oddball hobbies out there.

Showing up to the casual drop-in drop-out slacklining practice event, I was immediately greeted by people not just walking between trees, but walking several football fields between trees, as well as people juggling bowling pins, softballs, yo-yos, sticks, and a whole bunch of other wacky shit, sometimes while on the slacklines. Hey, more power to them, I lack the dexterity and balance to either slackline or juggle, and any disdainful air I put on is really just jealousy. It takes a lot of skill to do both of those things, and I’m sure it’s a fantastic core workout (the slacklining, not the juggling). And it looks like fun! But at the same time, it was one of the goofiest things I’ve ever seen. This place was three clowns short of a circus. My dad would have loved it.

But I jump ahead of myself. Because before we went to the slackline/ex-circus performer community meet-up, Annamae and I went to a very nice state park that was just some few miles from her house. Eldorado State Park was the name, I believe (one word, for some reason), and it was, well, stunning. To be fair, we also went to Rocky Mountain National Park later, which was even more impressive, so comparisons don’t do Eldorado any real justice by Colorado standards. But by Illinois/Minnesota standards? Whoa, mama. I love to hike. I love mountains. I love the Rockies. I can’t get enough of them. And I also can’t get over the fact that this absolutely incredible place is a) just a state park, and b) barely a half a hour from where Annamae lives. People live in these places, and see this shit every day. And I wonder why Coloradans are so outdoorsy! When that’s your backyard, how can you not be? After growing up in some of the flattest places on Earth, it boggles my mind every time that people just kind of live here and get this. I mean, I did for Philmont, and I did take advantage of it, but then I went back to flatlands. Damn, am I jealous.

One of the wild things about the state park, too, is that you can just kind of climb anywhere. Like, straight-up rock climb. Stick yourself to the rocks like a lizard and scrabble your way to the top. Anywhere. Anytime. For free (I did not confirm this). And while I can’t climb very well, I climb well enough to respect the hell out of people who do. Another thing I wish I had the dexterity for. But at least with that I know I can get better! Slacklining? Eh, maybe not. But anyway.

Eldorado also had a handful of old ruins from a 1910’s hotel that burned to the ground over a hundred years ago, so you know I was all over that shit. I love ruins, I love old houses, I love arson, I love mountains, it’s like my perfect setting. Sure, maybe all that’s left now is the ruins of the funicular (a mystery word and my new favorite swear), an old fountain, and a suspicious-looking fireplace (hmm….), but it was still great.

The park also butts up to an active railroad line, which made for some reason cowboy moments out there in the mountains. Annamae and I were just talking about our travels to Peru and to Europe, respectively, and then, oh wow, here comes a train. You can’t plan this shit. It’s like a movie out there in Colorado.

So besides hiking around in a state park, seeing people do acrobatics in a park, and meeting new friends, I also got to meet Annamae’s rats! And whoever said that rats aren’t good pets is dead wrong, because these things are cute, cuddly, clean, and also nocturnal so I did not always sleep well but that’s really just another plus if you look at it as your own personal white noise machine! Unlike the rat that stole my pizza in Paris or the New York sewer rats the size of small children, Annamae’s rats are quite affectionate and free of radiation. I very much enjoyed meeting them, too.

Plus they have these cute little feet and tiny hands that remind me a lot of raccoons, which I also love. They are so sweet.

The next day was a trip to the crown jewel of Colorado; Rocky Mountain National Park. I mean, how could I visit the Denver/Boulder area and not go to Rocky Mountain? I mean, I’ve been before, and nobody was making me go, but it’s one of those things you have to do. And it’s so worth it. One of the best parts of traveling to see friends is that you get dedicated time to just hang out, catch up, laugh, enjoy each other’s company, and reconnect with those things that made you friends in the first place. This is my favorite part of travel, frankly. It’s distinctly different than just hanging out regularly, and often so very special. I’m very glad that I got to have this time with Annamae.

But I would be lying if I didn’t admit that getting to do all of that while hiking in the Rocky Mountains didn’t make it somehow even better. We only had time to hike one mountain (Deer Mountain, as a matter of fact), since the park has a timed permit system and we did not have timed permits. But still! This place is amazing! Check out this view!

One of my favorite things about being up high on the peak of a mountain is that you get to look down and see everything spread out below you. It’s like the whole world has become one giant map, and you know I love maps. But maybe something that’s just as cool, if not even better, is being able to see all of it from way up high, and then go back down to what you were seeing and walk around. It’s such an incredible moment to find somewhere later and be like, “wait a minute! I just saw all of this! From way up there!” Much like seeing a mountain in the distance and then summitting it later after walking there, it’s a feeling that never gets old.

We did have a chance to go to Bear Lake, a different part of the park that also had a timed permit system that was even later than the first one. But we got to see a lake! One lake, and hike around it, too. It was pretty! There were no bears. Only lake. They should rename it to just Lake.

Rocky Mountain was just as beautiful as I remember it the first time I went years ago, but perhaps more memorable now because of the circumstances of my travel there (not that it wasn’t memorable the last time, but there was a lot going on. I had just finished working at Philmont, I was tired, the park was crowded, you get the idea). It is a great place to spend some time, if you’ve got it.

Testes Park, just outside of Rocky Mountain, is also a pretty cute town, too.

But just as quickly as the trip happened, it was pretty much time to go. The final day Annamae and I spent driving around her town, hitting the last big spots that she wanted to show me before I had to fly back to Illinois (and pack for Sweden). So we went to a very nice waterfall, and the bougie downtown area (which had excellent waffles and ice cream), and this random park near her house. Oh, there’s a park within walking distance of where you live? That’s nice. Does it connect to legitimate mountains and miles of trails? Because this one does. And my jealousy is once again endless that people just live here and get to do their daily runs here. Man, when I lived in Urbana, my daily run was an up-and-down through the same damn residential streets. I picked out my favorite houses by the very first month.

Oh, and another thing! How could I forget that we also went to Meow Wolf in Denver? Fun fact, this now means that I’ve been to every permanent Meow Wolf in existence (as of this time of writing). For those of you unfamiliar with Meow Wolf, or who haven’t read my last thing about it (that was over two years ago now. Crazy.), Meow Wolf is this bizarre interactive art installation/museum/fever dream where several hundred artists fill a warehouse with the most insane shit you can imagine. It’s a cross somewhere between stepping into a course in environmental storytelling and sensory overload. Think of that random little museum in your town or your childhood that just had some random guy’s art projects, but scale it up a hundredfold. It is not quite a tourist trap (since the production value is through the roof and I never felt like they were trying to scam me), but it’s sort of a natural outgrowth of those weird found-object tourist traps like the California Bottle Garden or the House on the Rock.

The whole Meow Wolf experience is something you really have to see for yourself to truly understand, because pictures never do it justice. Even if it’s just “walking through” an “art project,” it’s the kind of thing that transcends the actions you are taking. It’s fun, it’s surreal, it’s expensive as hell but worth it if you’ve got the cash and the time. It is an experience unlike any other, except for the two other Meow Wolfs in Santa Fe and Las Vegas.

For my money, the Santa Fe one is still the best, but maybe that’s just because you can never really match that sheer overwhelming sense of awe the first time you see a place like this. Sure, the Denver one is ostensibly bigger and better, but the Santa Fe one shook me in a way I can’t quite put into words. I’m sure this one would too, if it was my first time around. Not that this takes away from the experience, of course; it’s still worth it.

Oh, also, since every room/exhibit is largely designed by a different artist, there’s a crazy hodgepodge sense of smashing things together and seeing what sticks. Which is awesome, and also opens the opportunity for surprising moments of connection or disconnection. Like this bizarre, tiny reference to Undertale in the middle of the exhibit. Don’t think I didn’t notice that.

The best part about Meow Wolf is that it’s interactive. Sure, it’s perhaps a lot of Instagram bait stuff; like those pop-up exhibits that seemingly only exist to give people a neat space to take Instagram pictures in, Meow Wolf has a lot of spaces that are just begging you to take a picture in an post it online. Which I am, of course, doing right now. But it’s more than that! It’s got games. It’s got things to climb in. It’s got heart. And that’s more than other places can say.

Anyway, here’s some last pictures of us from Meow Wolf and, incidentally, from Colorado.

But after that, it was time to go. Time for me to fly back home to Illinois for the last time this summer. Time for me to return to the bizarre cursed Illuminati headquarters that is the Denver airport, presided over by the devil horse Blucifer. And boy howdy, has it been a summer. From moving out of Minnesota (after living in the basement of an Airbnb for a month), to Nick’s graduation, to Greece, to Appalachia, to ALA, to Big Europe, to Rock the Dock, to Colorado, and now finally, to Sweden, it’s been a long, hectic, amazing summer. I am so, so grateful that I have the time and resources to travel to these places and see the things I have seen. I recognize how incredibly special and lucky these opportunities are, and I will always cherish them.

But I am also so incredibly grateful for the many, many, many amazing people in my life who have made such an impact on me. I am so, so glad to have so many people who love and care about me, and so many people who I get along with so well. It’s amazing how well a good friendship with someone can improve your mood and outlook on things. Even simple jokes or stories shared together can make all the difference. So I’m grateful to not just Annamae and the amazing time we spent together, but also the incredible friends and family across the board who have all come out to support me in one way or another. I love you all. I am glad you are in my life. Thank you.

Alright, you didn’t really think we couldn’t leave without at least one good meme, right? IF you want to end this blog on a sappy note, just ignore the above image and re-read the last paragraph. No Coastal Cowboys necessary.

But for real. Thank you, everyone. You all are what make this life so amazing. And I know I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it again. Thank you.

And as always, thanks for reading. See you tomorrow and/or next week.