The next morning I went back to Fort Collins and hung out at my folks' place for a few days. It is always good to see family. Got to see my nieces in their talent show as well. They all came up to Fort Collins while I was there, and we played in the park near my folks' house. It was one of the beautiful perfect sweet May afternoons. My nieces drew algae out of one pound with sticks, climbing over the rocks in the creek between the ponds and transferring it to the other pond, "farming spinach," as they called it.
For much of the last few days I was in the Fort, I was absorbed with organizing my new storage unit, which with the additional of several metal shelving units from Home Depot, turned out to be a great staging area with all my gear at my ready. The couple that runs the storage facility---the same ones from two years ago, giving me the same deal on Rockies tickets when I signed up---got used to seeing me pull up to the sign-in sheet in my car each afternoon.
REI in the Fort was having their anniversary sale, so my gear collection got a little bigger, with most of the new stuff going right into the trunk, including a new BV500 bear vault stuffed full of as much Backpacker's Pantry meals of various kinds as it would hold. The clerk at REI had asked me about the meals, "Are they all the same kind?"in a tone as if he expected the answer to be yes, to which I'd replied with a quizzical look before saying no.
My new guiding philosophy for the next phase on the road---extreme minimalist gear.
Thursday, May 30, 2013
Speaking Irish on East Colfax
The last time I'd talked to Sean and Michelle was when we were both possibly going to meet up in Las Vegas, which I wound up getting to, but only several months later.
We'd all split up at last at Incline Village, Nevada outside a bar and grill the morning after the night we all spent at the Cal-Neva, the old Rat Pack hotel on the state line. We'd all agreed that having another more-organized "After Burn" event next year at the same place would be a grand idea.
Sean was curious what I'd been up to, and also about how I supported myself on my lifestyle. He called himself a Professional Ski Bum. I told him that next winter I might come to Aspen and take Ski Bum lessons from him.
We talked about Galway, which we both know well. We concluded that we probably know some of the same people there.
Michelle is a massage therapist for one of the big hotel chains (I thought it was Wyndham, but it is not). She laughed I told her that I was member of every rewards program on the market at this point.
After dinner we all split up at the table and made plans to rendezvous at the Fillmore, at one of the bars down near the stage. Adrian drew a map on the napkin for Okki.
Then Okki, Manchester, and I walked over to the Fillmore. One had to be frisked TSA style to get in. My handler was a pleasant young woman. I showed them my ticket from Stubhub printed out on Okki's computer. Then we went inside. It was loud and large.
Shows like this a challenge for me. I don't like them much, and just along for the fun of being with friends. Unlike the small show at the Fox, dancing was impossible. Even Okki---the dance king---agreed with me. It was mostly a visual show, designed for the eyes, with musical accompaniment. On that level it was pretty cool.
I left a little earlier and went outside to get a late night gyro from a food truck across from the club, then walked up and down Colfax a few blocks, thinking about that scene of Clint Eastwood in Every Which Way But Loose, and how much Colorado had changed since that movie was made, even if Boulder tried to freeze itself in time in 1978.
We'd all split up at last at Incline Village, Nevada outside a bar and grill the morning after the night we all spent at the Cal-Neva, the old Rat Pack hotel on the state line. We'd all agreed that having another more-organized "After Burn" event next year at the same place would be a grand idea.
Sean was curious what I'd been up to, and also about how I supported myself on my lifestyle. He called himself a Professional Ski Bum. I told him that next winter I might come to Aspen and take Ski Bum lessons from him.
We talked about Galway, which we both know well. We concluded that we probably know some of the same people there.
Michelle is a massage therapist for one of the big hotel chains (I thought it was Wyndham, but it is not). She laughed I told her that I was member of every rewards program on the market at this point.
After dinner we all split up at the table and made plans to rendezvous at the Fillmore, at one of the bars down near the stage. Adrian drew a map on the napkin for Okki.
Then Okki, Manchester, and I walked over to the Fillmore. One had to be frisked TSA style to get in. My handler was a pleasant young woman. I showed them my ticket from Stubhub printed out on Okki's computer. Then we went inside. It was loud and large.
Shows like this a challenge for me. I don't like them much, and just along for the fun of being with friends. Unlike the small show at the Fox, dancing was impossible. Even Okki---the dance king---agreed with me. It was mostly a visual show, designed for the eyes, with musical accompaniment. On that level it was pretty cool.
I left a little earlier and went outside to get a late night gyro from a food truck across from the club, then walked up and down Colfax a few blocks, thinking about that scene of Clint Eastwood in Every Which Way But Loose, and how much Colorado had changed since that movie was made, even if Boulder tried to freeze itself in time in 1978.
The Return of the Aspenites
It was a great visit to Colorado. From Fort Collins, I wound up going back down to Boulder again, and then going into Denver with Okki and his friend from Manchester who just moved out to Boulder from Connecticut to work for IBM. He is Anglo-Indian, but speaks with an perfect Manchester accent. His daughters saw Boulder while driving across the country and asked him, "Daddy, why can't we live here?"
That would be the view from US 36, coming West down off the hill into Valley. Yes, all of us captivated by that place have seen it. Welcome to Boulder. The new vitality is always appreciated.
Okki and I picked him up at his condo in the Tantra Lakes neighborhood, which is right on the edge of town, where they froze the development. I asked him what it was like driving right off Tantra Drive. He didn't even get the joke. "My daughters can go to school right nearby," he said.
When we got into Denver, I pretended like I knew where we were going, given that I was home-stater in the car with two foreigners. Okki had printed out the Google maps. I managed to get us lost in downtown (just as my old man did in 1959 coming home from Alaska), but they didn't mind the side tour in rush hour. I absorbed the stress for all of us.
On the east side of downtown, we parked at a pay lot (they were amused at the system of putting money into the slot on the honor system). It was an area of East Colfax that was crap in the 1980's, but had been turned into a nightlife district.
We went inside the restaurant. It was packed and noisy with a good crowd. We meandered around the place until we found the big table where the Aspenites were sitting. Adrian and Heike were already there. I sat next to Heike, who is gorgeous. We ordered several rounds of Japanese food.
They were surprised to see me. Okki hadn't told them I would be coming. They had come down from Aspen for a couple nights to go to a few shows, including the ones that we had tickets for---a DJ named Armin Van Buuren over whom Okki was excited, but whom I had to look up on Wikipedia. Turns out he played for the Dutch queen.
After a half hour, Michelle and Sean showed up. Michelle ran around the table to give me a big hug (before kicking me out of my seat so she could sit next to Heike and pass girl talk). That gave me a chance to catch up with Sean, face to face across the table.
That would be the view from US 36, coming West down off the hill into Valley. Yes, all of us captivated by that place have seen it. Welcome to Boulder. The new vitality is always appreciated.
Okki and I picked him up at his condo in the Tantra Lakes neighborhood, which is right on the edge of town, where they froze the development. I asked him what it was like driving right off Tantra Drive. He didn't even get the joke. "My daughters can go to school right nearby," he said.
When we got into Denver, I pretended like I knew where we were going, given that I was home-stater in the car with two foreigners. Okki had printed out the Google maps. I managed to get us lost in downtown (just as my old man did in 1959 coming home from Alaska), but they didn't mind the side tour in rush hour. I absorbed the stress for all of us.
On the east side of downtown, we parked at a pay lot (they were amused at the system of putting money into the slot on the honor system). It was an area of East Colfax that was crap in the 1980's, but had been turned into a nightlife district.
We went inside the restaurant. It was packed and noisy with a good crowd. We meandered around the place until we found the big table where the Aspenites were sitting. Adrian and Heike were already there. I sat next to Heike, who is gorgeous. We ordered several rounds of Japanese food.
They were surprised to see me. Okki hadn't told them I would be coming. They had come down from Aspen for a couple nights to go to a few shows, including the ones that we had tickets for---a DJ named Armin Van Buuren over whom Okki was excited, but whom I had to look up on Wikipedia. Turns out he played for the Dutch queen.
After a half hour, Michelle and Sean showed up. Michelle ran around the table to give me a big hug (before kicking me out of my seat so she could sit next to Heike and pass girl talk). That gave me a chance to catch up with Sean, face to face across the table.
Friday, May 10, 2013
New Digs at the Opera Galleria
I stayed over a week in Fort Collins. I had a great time visting with my folks again, and seeing some old friends, including my friend Randy S.----, whom I've known since high school.
At first I didn't think I'd get to see him. I called his number but it no longer worked. So I dropped the offices of the architectural firm where he woks on Mountain Avenue just on the edge of Old Town. It turns out the reason his cell phone was disconnected is that he had left the firm to start his own. I'd somewhat inferred that from something he put on Facebook, and I was delighted to hear the news.
The receptionist at this old firm gave me vague directions to his new office, in the Opera Galleria building on College. I walked over there and poked around, but I didn't see anything in the office listings that looked like him.
At Starbucks across College, I went online and read an article on the web about his new firm, which gave me the address. Turns out he was sharing offices with an existing design firm. I went back to the Galleria and looked up the listing. Turns out they were on the "secret" third floor of the Galleria, that I didn't know even existed.
I remember that about Fort Collins: secret little weird corridors in office buildings downtown.
Randy was surprised and delighted to see me. His firm was booming and he had one meeting after another nearly every day, plus trips to Bangkok.
We made lunch plans for the next day, which happened to be another snow storm, this time on the first day of May. We joked about as we walked over from his office to La Luz on Walnut Street.
"Typical Colorado spring like the old days," I said. He laughed in agreement.
At first I didn't think I'd get to see him. I called his number but it no longer worked. So I dropped the offices of the architectural firm where he woks on Mountain Avenue just on the edge of Old Town. It turns out the reason his cell phone was disconnected is that he had left the firm to start his own. I'd somewhat inferred that from something he put on Facebook, and I was delighted to hear the news.
The receptionist at this old firm gave me vague directions to his new office, in the Opera Galleria building on College. I walked over there and poked around, but I didn't see anything in the office listings that looked like him.
At Starbucks across College, I went online and read an article on the web about his new firm, which gave me the address. Turns out he was sharing offices with an existing design firm. I went back to the Galleria and looked up the listing. Turns out they were on the "secret" third floor of the Galleria, that I didn't know even existed.
I remember that about Fort Collins: secret little weird corridors in office buildings downtown.
Randy was surprised and delighted to see me. His firm was booming and he had one meeting after another nearly every day, plus trips to Bangkok.
We made lunch plans for the next day, which happened to be another snow storm, this time on the first day of May. We joked about as we walked over from his office to La Luz on Walnut Street.
"Typical Colorado spring like the old days," I said. He laughed in agreement.
A Long Time Away from the Fort
When I got back to Fort Collins, it had been almost exactly a year to day since I left heading for Austin, for my advisor's retirement dinner. I had been back to Fort Collins for a week in August before heading for Burning Man, but it felt like I'd been away a long time this time.
There was even new construction on a complex bus-system project through the middle of town, one that had been on the drawing board for years. Stations were constructed along the right-of-way near my parents house.
Work crews were putting a tunnel under the railroad tracks for pedestrians and bicycles. Finally the war between the residents and the railroad could come to end. No more guerilla cutting of the fence to cut through it, and then having the railroad crews patch it up.
There was even new construction on a complex bus-system project through the middle of town, one that had been on the drawing board for years. Stations were constructed along the right-of-way near my parents house.
Work crews were putting a tunnel under the railroad tracks for pedestrians and bicycles. Finally the war between the residents and the railroad could come to end. No more guerilla cutting of the fence to cut through it, and then having the railroad crews patch it up.
Missed Call in Loveland
I left Del Camino in the afternoon and drove as far north as Loveland, where I decided to splurge for a Hampton Inn for my last night before getting back to Fort Collins.
I would up regretting it. The walls of the room were paper thin. While trying to sleep I could hear the television in the next room. It was abaurd. This almost never happens---hearing the television from another room, even at a Motel 6. Yet there I was paying a hundred and forty bucks a night to be kept awake.
I should have followed the inner voice when I booked the motel, and stayed at the Best Western just across the road, at the southwest corner of U.S. 34 and I-25. It was out at that interchange before anything else was built, before it became the hub of this part of northern Colorado. I should know...
I would up regretting it. The walls of the room were paper thin. While trying to sleep I could hear the television in the next room. It was abaurd. This almost never happens---hearing the television from another room, even at a Motel 6. Yet there I was paying a hundred and forty bucks a night to be kept awake.
I should have followed the inner voice when I booked the motel, and stayed at the Best Western just across the road, at the southwest corner of U.S. 34 and I-25. It was out at that interchange before anything else was built, before it became the hub of this part of northern Colorado. I should know...
Heaven is a Place outside Longmont
After Boulder, I went over to Thornton to visit my younger sister and her family. It was splendid visit, probably my last there, since they are in the process of moving house.
Then I went up to Fort Collins, taking three days to get there. The first day was a huge late April snowstorm. I drove as far as the interchange for highway 119 outside Longmont. Back in the 1970s it was a truckstop area called Del Camino.
It's even more thriving now---half a dozen budget motels, plus a Waffle House, Starbucks, fast food, and many gas stations. I stayed the night at one of the budget motels while the spring snow piled on my car. The next morning I hunkered down in the Starbucks to work while the snow kept coming down.
I decided I could probably live at Del Camino.
Then I went up to Fort Collins, taking three days to get there. The first day was a huge late April snowstorm. I drove as far as the interchange for highway 119 outside Longmont. Back in the 1970s it was a truckstop area called Del Camino.
It's even more thriving now---half a dozen budget motels, plus a Waffle House, Starbucks, fast food, and many gas stations. I stayed the night at one of the budget motels while the spring snow piled on my car. The next morning I hunkered down in the Starbucks to work while the snow kept coming down.
I decided I could probably live at Del Camino.
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