Denver and St Paddy's Day 2013

Denver was the first stop on our epic trip and our first time in the US. This came after a hectic morning that started far too soon by clearing out the remainder of what was left from our life in our London flat. Following this was the commute to Heathrow via struggle town with only some hairy dog champagne to soothe the travel commencement. It was late evening when we arrived following long haul 2-stop flight. Although never featuring on the ‘must visit’ planning list, Denver was the most logical starting point to progress through the trip’s feature destinations. We had three full days penned in, including Saint Patrick's Day.

We stayed in a neat modern and very liveable unit within the Residence Inn complex about 3km north west of the stated centre of town. The walk in involved a few inner suburban blocks, an over pass above the main motorway through town, a bridge crossing the picturesque South Platte River and its park land then up into the main mall. The mall was about 1km long and open like Brisbane's Queen Street, even having a free shuttle service up the middle end to end. But as far as malls go it was somewhat disappointing - mainly mobile phone shops, banks, and all-American restaurant and bar chains.

We did a lot of walking into town and through the local sprawling suburbs boarded in by heavy main roads. For a big city there is a lot of space with no perceivable dense city centre and no urgency to stack homes in on themselves. Still struggling to shrug of winter it was in a kind of no man's land between seasons; dull, starved of colour, vibrancy and living vegetation with no hint of spring. This was despite some bright crisp days with enough sun to burn some colour back into our UK solar starved pasty white skin. A modern city not wanting for space and forgotten by the passing of seasons added to the isolated and western cowboy feel of the place.

One night we ordered pizza, it was massive "just like in the movies!" A piece like a sheet of A4 paper. It came with a mountain condiments - olive oil, chilli oil, chilli flakes, parmesan cheese, cream cheese, jack cheese, extra herbs... this was our introduction to what we coined "the great American fat-me-up." 

Denver is meant to be the beer capital of the US of A, with more domestic, export, craft beers and places pouring them than you’d care to poke at. I wasn't a fan however, finding most of it to be very hoppy, driven by tangy fruit tones resulting in a heavy, flat, punch like drink you have to consciously struggle through. Looking for a crisp, refreshing, easy to ignore larger didn't fare any better. Not a surprise considering Coors with the biggest single brewery facility in the world is based on the outskirts of town, and that hardly has a reputation. After several attempts and blanks looks when asking for something not too hop heavy or a local larger with some character, I settled for Fat Tire Amber Ale by New Belgium. Available in most places. 


Of course the 17th provided the perfect opportunity to stick with a known classic. We walked into town under the high and grey sky, getting into the spirit of things and staking a good spot for the St Patrick’s Day parade-  the biggest in the States west of the Mississippi. It was a great parade with an upbeat vibe and all sorts doing the rounds. I'll let the photos speak for themselves - I've dumped them all at the end.

Following this we looped around the city making our way back to the apartment. we mixed it up with locals at the bar where the band gave us some percussion pieces to play along with. Turns out Anne can jingle a mean tambourine. There was also some old girl who kept forgetting that she’d already told us how her late 3^rd hubby of 30 years ago. He owned a Porsche dealership in California… she’d been living it up on the insurance payout since and missed the 80’s and half the 90's all together.

Sure it had its draw backs, but in the end Denver was a great intro to the States, showing good mix of typical America that’s not always covered off by the more popular destinations. A place built around big cars, big streets, big boots, big hats and big pizza.

After another big day of walking failed to secure a hire car but the internet came through via Kayak, which become our go-to site for bookings for most of our trip. With pick-up from the airport, we took an early morning 20 minute cab and in no time our small Nee-San was aimed west. Behind us the mid-morning sun and Denver on the flat High Plains - a mile high it sits. Ahead the Front Range of the Rockies exploding into the sky. 

We had a six hour drive on the I70 up through 3000 metre-plus passes including Vail Pass at 3,250m. A few weeks before there had been a bad multi-car pile-up so I had a degree of nerves. At the very top we had heavy cloud, light snow failing, and 8% gradient to deal with. The locals up front in big cars kept the wheel tracks cleared; their glowing tail lights beady beacons and the exposed black tarmac our life-line in the white out conditions. No, luckily it wasn't that bad and there was no need to nurse the car much less than the light traffic and speed limit called for. And only once on the dash did I see a momentary flash of the traction warning light. With no dramas we were over the top and a few hours later winding along some magnificent road cut into the deep canyons of Eagle River. 

Soon enough it completely flattened out into wild west desert, open and bleached in sun "just like in the movies!" 

We were coming up to the state board with Utah and despite the excellent state of the roads they were mostly empty, only passing another vehicle every 10 minutes or so. To the north across a vast expanse an abrupt mountain range loomed occupying the entire horizon out the right hand side of a car. We felt small and insignificant on the thin black ribbon of road threading out to the eternal distance. Comfortably cruising along at 100km per hour, I found myself thinking back to those first Europeans, prospectors, missionaries, traders and outlaws pioneering out into the emptiness of this somewhat waste land, It would have been a different story back then 250 odd years ago trekking what eventually came to be known as the "Old Spanish Trail". We're they equally impressed by the beautiful layers of coloured earth? Whites, yellows, browns, reds and even purples.

We pushed on returning to modern civilisation at the adventure tourism town of Moab with a few good hours till sun down.