…I Am A Tree

Archive for the ‘Travel’ Category

After the Red Rocks show, the bus dropped us off in Golden at the Buffalo Rose for the New Monsoon after-party. It was probably 11:45 PM when we strolled into the bar, feeling great — but exhausted — from the day’s events. A female folk singer was up on stage and we grabbed a huge table in the back and I went off in search of food, settling on some decent five dollar burritos sold off to the side of the club portion of the Rose.

New Monsoon finally came out around…12:30 AM? Something like that, and I was trying really hard to focus, but just couldn’t. I kept drifting off into that fugue-like state of half-sleep/half-awareness and was having some interesting hallucinations about people being at our table, when in reality, it was just us. Kim was exhausted, too, but at least she had her camera with her to snap a few photos of the band and friends.

Bob joined us around then, Ailene having gone back to the hotel to crash, and he was obviously beat, too. I mean, really — we were on Mountain Time, and hadn’t gotten much sleep over the last few days. A two hour time difference made it 3:00 AM, Eastern.

We bailed after three songs, which is a shame, as Timmy showed up two songs later and stayed on stage with them for the rest of the night, I think. Andy was in the house, too, sitting in the back with Gayle, and he’d carried a sax in with him. We said our good nights/good byes (most weren’t going to Aspen the next day) and made our way outside, where I called a cab.

While waiting for the cab, a couple we didn’t know walked out of the bar — and had obviously been at the show that day — and asked if we needed a ride to the hobo hotel. We said sure, despite their not knowing where it was. They were sort of local, apparently, but didn’t know quite where it was we were staying. I cancelled the cab and we walked with them down the block to their car: a Civic.

The three of us had to fit in the back. Bob sat in the middle, and it was, shall we say, cozy.

Introductions were made and we found out they were Gerry and Pumpkin, and they seemed nice enough. Once we hit the road, we found ourselves in the midst of some small industrial parks that none of us had seen before. In hindsight, I think we went by the Coors Brewery, but at 1:30 AM, it’s all dark and dismal. And then it hit me.

We were in the middle of a horror movie. Here we were, three adults from NY/NJ, blindly accepting a ride from strangers. We could find ourselves being strung up somewhere no one would ever find us. So I began making the “ch-ch-ch-ah-ah-ah!” sounds from Friday the 13th quietly in the back seat, so Kim and Bob could hear it. Kim got it immediately.

Things were not looking well as we made our way through Golden, when suddenly we popped out on the side of our hotel. Freedom! We were stopped at a light to turn left, and Bob’s saying, “We can get out here, really…” and Gerry is saying, “No, no, I’ll drop you off there.” We make the left turn only to find out we couldn’t just pull in. We all turned and stared at the hotel as it dwindled behind us. Lordy Lord above, this could have been it.

Well, a half mile down the road, we could finally turn and did. We made it back fine, but really, what the hell were we all thinking, accepting a ride from strangers??? Really, kids, do not do this. Ever.

Coda: we ran into Gerry and Pumpkin the following night in Aspen. He’s a taper and his copy of Aspen is up on Archive. So it was all fine in the end.

But still.

Ch-ch-ch-ah-ah-ah!

One of the many highlights of the trip to Colorado came on Sunday. We (Barbara, Carl, Kim and I) pulled out of Golden around 2:30 PM, having had a nice lunch at a grill downtown. The way we ended up driving to Aspen was through back country, via Leadville and Independence Pass (which crosses the Continental Divide, as evidenced below).

Shortly after passing through Leadville (a wonderful looking town we want to go back to visit), we began driving through the most amazing countryside — an enormous valley nestled between the high mountains and cut across by highway and a rail line. Large ranches seemed to abut the tracks and the afternoon sun coupled with storm clouds in the distance simply took my breath away (the altitude didn’t help there, either…). I guess the description would be high plains for the area.

The road then began another of its gradual runs up into the clouds, with one stretch passing a mine. Ahead of us, we saw signs for elk jerky, and decided to stop at the truck and awning setup at the side of the road. The owner came out of the truck in winter gear, which made us realize it was cold up there. We’d been in the car all afternoon and when we stepped out, it was downright teeth-chatteringly cold.

The owner ended up being a really helpful man, letting us try a multitude of flavors, including several types of elk, salmon and buffalo. We spent a bit of money there, and I just have to say — I’ve never tasted anything quite like the smoked elk jerky. It practically melted in your mouth. The going joke became “elf jerky” for it, as we were all a bit giddy from the altitude (well, I was…).

I’m saddened today, as we just finished up the spicy elk jerky. I went over to the Climax Jerky site where you can order some, and believe me, I will at some point. Trust me, you’ll like it.

An hour or so later we made it up to the top of Independence Pass, where the picture above was taken by Carl for us. I was in shorts, a t-shirt and sandals when I stepped out of the car, and holy crap, it had to be in the forties. It was reeeeallly cold! The views were spectacular, making it worth being frozen and out of breath. I don’t think I’ve ever been outside so high before — we were over 12,000 feet — and it was something I’ll remember for a long time. The picture below simply doesn’t do it justice, but it’ll have to do.

There’s so much to blog about in regards to the trip out west, but the first item has to be that I have fallen in love with Colorado. In particular, with the mountains, and specifically, with the Boulder/Lyons area. First in Golden, where we hung out for a couple days for various shows, and then up into the mountains toward Aspen, I was completely blown away by the sheer beauty around me. The single most common word I said for about two days was, “Wow!”  Some times it was interjected with, “Holy wow!” but you get the point.

The only comparable experience I’ve had was when we were in Tahoe for Berry and Kim’s wedding a couple years back — I thought the scenery was stunning then, too.

So maybe it’s a thing about mountains.

Which is weird for me to think that maybe I could live there. I’ve always needed the ocean nearby, but after this trip, there’s a small niggling lingering in the background that makes me ponder about how great it might be to live out there. I doubt it’ll happen, as I expect that feeling to fade away in the next couple of days as I get further and further away from the experience, but for now, it’s a nice thought that makes me smile.

I would love to do a two night run in Boulder with Railroad, that’s for sure. The Mountain Sun Brew Pub would make a fantastic place for a pre-party…

Lyons was wonderful. We stayed here and had a great time Monday night and Tuesday. Falling asleep to a small mountain river bubbling along some fifty feet away was something I’d love to have every day. It was magic, plain and simple.

I’ll post more later about the music, as that was really special, and not just Railroad Earth.

I was in San Diego earlier this week (Sunday through Wednesday morning) and have a number of observations to make.

• There are a lot of homeless people in the city. We noticed this when we were in San Francisco, too. I know we have them in New York City, but they just seem more obvious in California.
• The city, itself, is a mix of very new right next door to rundown, shuttered, graffiti covered buldings.
• I was astonished by the amount of garbage I saw just laying on the streets. Granted, Monday was Cinco de Mayo, but this was present through Wednesday morning when I was leaving.
• The Gaslamp District is cool.
• I couldn’t find a goddamned breakfast place at 7:30 AM Monday. Tattoos, yes, as I saw probably ten different open shops, but no breakfast joints. I’m spoiled living and working in New York, where there’s thousands of places within walking distance.
• San Diegoans apparently allow themselves to be medically experimented on a lot. In the pages of the San Diego Weekly Reader – their version of the Village Voice — I saw page after page of ads looking for people with every possible problem imaginable for test groups on new drugs.
• There does seem to be a vibrant local music scene.
• I love palm trees. People sell healthy ones that grow on their yards for up to $20,000. Who knew?
• The Red Bull Air Races look cool and I wish they came to NYC; I’d go. I only saw a little from the cab. The planes were flying over an aircraft carrier in the Bay and it was very, very cool.

I’m in Boston today and can’t wait to get home. It’s been a long, long week.

This week promises to be full of fun. I leave shortly to fly to San Diego for two days of work; I fly home on Wednesday, only to turnaround and fly to Boston for Thursday and Friday. Ugh. I’d just as soon stay home, but the overtime will be nice, especially today for all the time in the air and going to and from airports.

Catch you all later.

Our flight from Ft. Lauderdale was supposed to leave at 1:40, but thunderstorms came in around 12:30, resulting in a ton of delays. At this point, it’s 3:52 and we’re supposed to have landed originally at 4:30, but here we are, still sitting in the airport in Lauderdale.

We’re both so over this delay and just want. to. be. home.

This is teh suxx0rs.