When in Roam
February 13 — February 20: Boulder, Round 2
In the not-too-distant future, I can see a world where the ROAM-ing we’ve done has become a lifestyle, de rigueur. Boomers like us will mimic our kids and flock to Airbnb (now a public company) and their competitors, just like we flocked to Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram. They will spend significant chunks of time savoring their day-to-day lives working from various locales. At that point, it would only be a matter of time until that lifestyle is reflected in other parts of our society, like the Olympics, for instance.
When that occurs, I propose that Carol’s and my experience checking out of our RiNo Arts District Airbnb would have been the inception of this Olympic event. On Saturday, February 13, at 10am it was one degree outside (not a typo), our elevation was approximately 5,280 ft. above sea level, and we had to walk down two flights of an open-air stairway (no elevator) and then travel 100 yds. to Sweet Chariot. Packing consisted of three oversized suitcases, each weighing approximately sixty pounds, two rollers of nominal weight, a Titan cooler, an oversized medicine bag, three knapsacks, a box of adult beverages and wine, six Trader Joe’s plastic bags of stuff (java, spices, bicycle helmets, laundry detergent, etc.), two pillows, and one comforter (my blankie). Our results: six trips, 58 minutes. Think of it as a modern-day version of the Biathlon. But we’d need a name for this sport. Something Latin sounding that implies formality and intelligence. This title should relate to the event, unlike all those pharmaceutical drugs, where the faux-Latin name has absolutely nothing to do with their intended use. Thanks in advance for helping me to virtually brainstorm this. As always, I’ll post bragging rights for all entries. We’ll be making history here, people!
We drove 30 minutes north, back to the Residence Inn in Boulder for our do-over. Thanks to their underground parking, elevator, and luggage cart, unpacking was a breeze. We hit the local Road Runner Sports in Westminster, where as a VIP member I was able to procure a new pair of size 13 EE stability running shoes. My first pair of Brooks ever. I was pumped. I was assisted by Scott, a 20-year-old from Nashville. He was a rising sophomore at Princeton, taking a gap year. He ran the mile, two miles, and 5ks for the university, and looked it. When he turned sideways, he disappeared. He was in the Boulder area training till June. I told him that’s exactly why we were in town (false) and shared that I worked in Princeton when Triumph Brewery opened there about 25 years ago (true). As he turned 21 on April 5th (my sista Fran-Ellen’s B’Day!), I noticed a hint of drool when I mentioned that microbrewery.
We headed back to test out the new kicks on the gym treadmill. During our previous stay, University of Colorado students populated the hotel because they weren’t allowed in the dorms. This time, all the college kids were out on break for Presidents’ Day. I hoped that the hotel gym would be empty. It was for the first 1.7 miles of my jaunt. Then a woman just came in and started using the equipment. WTF? She couldn’t wait and come back in 30 minutes? Thanks for letting me vent.
We started our early Valentine’s Day celebration with some rotisserie chicken sliders, mashed sweet potatoes, and broccoli slaw, courtesy of Chef Carol, who would not be Chopped!
We dined to 40-Year-Old Version, which was terrific, and not at all the formulaic rags-to-riches story I was expecting. Felt very authentic. Well-written, great acting, humorous, poignant, and based on a true story!
We followed that with the Saturday Night Live episode starring Regina King and musical guest Nathaniel Rateliff & The Night Sweats. Best episode of the year. And, as we’re on Mountain Time, we got to watch it from 9:30pm — 11pm. We called it a night and I dreamt of future Olympic Gold.
Mother Nature continued to exert her influence during the first couple of days of our Boulder reset. On Sunday, which was Valentine’s Day, the temperature vacillated from minus eight degrees at 7am, to a high of five degrees by midday. Though it’s a “dry” kind of cold here, we decided not to brave the elements and spent the day as we often do, working/career stuff/writing in the morning, and hitting the gym late morning/early afternoon. That night we watched 60 Minutes and the Bee Gees Documentary: How Can you Mend a Broken Heart on HBO Max, which was recommended to us by the one and only Tom Salzer. Thanks, T!. Like the Quincy Jones doc we saw last week, it was amazing to see the trajectory and longevity of the brothers Gibbs’ career. Reminded me of Hall of Famers in any sport. There appear to be two types. Either they utterly and completely dominated for a decade (Sandy Koufax, The Beatles), or they exuded longevity, putting up above-average numbers throughout their careers (Hank Aaron, The Bee Gees).
Monday was more of the same. The morning greeted us with minus six degrees, and it warmed up to a balmy 19 degrees. We continued our groove indoors. I had my eye on the prize of completing my last post from the vault, Roam: Raleigh/RTP, which was our first stop. Success! At that moment, I had no obligations personal or otherwise hanging over my head. Felt free in a way I hadn’t felt — maybe ever. A combination of good and just the right amount of weird.
And, Carol kept cranking out content for her clients. That’s what happens when you’re good!
We took a break in the action for some aerobic exercise — my second run in three days. Now, we were cookin’ with gas. I prepped and delivered a training for Moms Demand Action, we Zoomed and played Codenames with Spence and Will — great game, thanks for recommending it, fellas! And, called it a night.
On Tuesday, we hit the road for the first time in what seemed like forever. Leaving the hotel, I felt like an astronaut returning to earth and coming out of that capsule bobbing in the water. We were squinty-eyed, and the temperature was a balmy 27 degrees. Pass the tanning butter!
On the way out, we hit a recommended dry cleaner to get my dress shirts pressed. I didn’t feel the need to give them my gym shorts, which are the other half of my Zoom call ensemble. As I left, it dawned on me that these seemed like the only type of establishments that hadn’t been replaced by nationally-branded, big-box, publicly-traded brands. Wonder why that hadn’t occurred?
We hit the University of Colorado. Enrollment included approximately 50k undergrad and grad students all in. 33,000 matriculated here at the flagship campus. It was beautiful, if you liked beige, orange, and red-bricked buildings topped with terra cotta roofs and set off against mountain ranges that lead you to Rocky Mountain National Park.
I thought of our wonderful friends, Bob, and Cathy Colgan, who met at UC and who I’ve known since Cathy and I ran a day camp for the 92nd St. Y circa 1982. It’s been almost 40 years and to this day neither of them even look 40! Damn!
The university’s mascot was Ralphie, the buffalo. Go Buffs! During football home games, the school has trotted out this big girl, who entertained the crowd with her 100-yard dash. You could find a couple of origin stories regarding how Ralphie got her name here. I voted for the latter, which was drinking-related.
The institution was founded in 1876, the year Colorado became a state. Can you guess the state’s motto? First one to do so will get… “A new car!” No, Johnnie, that’s not what we have for our guests today. This isn’t Oprah’s Favorite Things. Let’s pump the brakes a little. You will get a shout out though, and at the end of the day, isn’t that all you really want? To be recognized.
Hell, no? You’d prefer cash? I feel ya.
We had such a good day, we even splurged for some Uber Eats. Empanadas from Rincon Argentino, coupled with part of my get-outta-jail card. Left Hand Brewing Co.’s Milk Stout Nitro. Recommendation courtesy of Jim Pachak. Now, I know what it tastes like if you mix a stout with a milkshake — in a good way!
Followed that up with my monthly Moms Demand Action — Passaic NJ Group meeting. At the beginning of each meeting, it’s, “Where are we tonight, Howie?” Now I know what Waldo has felt like for all these years. So thankful to be connected to these people. Always inspired by the actions everyone takes big and small to inform, educate, and advocate regarding gun violence prevention (GVP).
Closed the night with This Is Us, season 5, episode 8. Even more new people from the past. How are they related? I won’t spoil it for ya.
On Wednesday, we drove to Golden, Colorado. and the first stop was taking the Lariat Loop up the front of Lookout Mountain to Buffalo Bill Cody’s Museum and Grave. The five-mile drive included 1,600 ft. of elevation with many hairpin turns and few shoulders. Steady snow was falling, and it was 27 degrees out. I was focusing on the yellow center line until I saw a Drive Carefully sign, above an In Memory of Tom Flanagan sign. I turned around, shook my head, and smiled and at that showman Buffalo Bill. Had to hand it to him. Had the foresight to get everybody’s adrenalin pumpin’ just before they visited his shrine. Maybe by the time I kick, I can insert a sensor into my tombstone (don’t think I can handle cremation) so that when anyone approaches my final resting site, they’ll hear This is Howie Do It 😉.
We headed downtown to historic Golden, Colorado, which was not named generically for the Gold Rush in the mid-1850s that brought so many to the state, but rather specifically for Thomas L. “Tom” Golden, a miner from Georgia. He, along with George A. Jackson from Missouri, traveled up to the mountains to find the point of origin for the placer gold deposits that were washing down into the valley. They discovered a boatload of gold at the confluence of the Chicago Creek and Clear Creek, near what today is called Idaho Springs, on January 7, 1859.
That summer, while returning from the mountains, Jackson got caught in a flash flood, and Golden stayed with him; though, for a few minutes, he thought George was a goner. They returned to camp in the valley to find that a new town was being built there. Jackson suggested they name it after Golden. Wonder if George would have made the same suggestion if Tom’s last name was Lipshitz?
We walked the main drag, over the creek which led to the Coors Brewery which had become synonymous with Golden, Colorado. According to placards around town, this beer manufacturing site was the single largest one in operation worldwide. The company, however, merged with Molson in 2005 and while operations here have continued — in fact the equipment has been upgraded, HQ moved to Chicago in 2020. And, yes, the tour was closed due to COVID.
Most shops were closed, too, which gave it a feel of one of those western ghost towns in the movies, sans tumbleweeds. There was one large gift shop that was open and as we passed it, a HUGE dawg, part St. Bernard, part woolly mammoth, came out to meet us. No barking, no whimpering, just jammed its head below my crotch and expected me to scratch/massage him/her. Head, ears, back, all over. I complied. The pooch looked up at me with soulful, reddish-brown, burnt sienna eyes. We peeked inside the store through open doors and there was no one to be found. Whoever raised that pup did a helluva job. Was the best moment of the day, or so I thought.
We headed back to Boulder for a midafternoon break at the Boulder Dushanbe Teahouse. Seems that Boulder is a sister city with Dushanbe, Tibet, and about 40 years ago, the mayors of the two towns decided to give each other presents that would reflect their different cultures. Artisans from Tibet created the teahouse by hand. Incredible carved wooden columns for support, beautiful, intricate tiles that covered the ceiling and outdoor walls, and powerful abstract paintings that seemed to suggest landscapes indigenous to the homeland graced the interior walls. The building was created without the use of nails, screws, nuts, and bolts. When finished, it was disassembled, transported to Boulder, and built again, by hand. It’s been around for 40 years and has become a landmark. It was open at 25% capacity and, when we arrived, it was sparsely seated. I had some Lapsang Souchong, in tribute to the Colin Hay’s song (former leader of the band, Men at Work) Beautiful World.
And, what did Dushanbe get in return? According to the maître de, — an Internet Café. Sounds like they sent over a router, modem, a bunch of Keurig pods, and said, “Have at it.” I pictured a bunch of overcaffeinated monks in their robes surfing the net till the wee hours of the morn. The teahouse tied for the best moment of the day.
We spent Thursday morning on various and sundry tasks, and then did something we hadn’t since we were in North Carolina last November. Checked out a 55+ community. Frankly, there weren’t any to speak of in Alabama, Tennessee, Texas, or New Mexico, Whenever I searched for them online, I got back retirement homes and assisted living facilities. It’s a little premature for that.
We drove back out to Aurora once again — that’s where UC Health was located — and met with Charles at The Reserve at Green Valley Ranch. It’s an Oakwood Homes community. They’re a national builder that we hadn’t see in North Carolina. It’s in relatively early stages. Approximately 75 homes were completed, 400 sold, and another 500 lots opening in phases. It literally was being built on what used to be a cattle ranch. As we walked the grounds and looked out at the undeveloped land, it looked like a horizon pool without water. In the distance, we could see cattle on a neighboring ranch. I imagined that in five years, they would be a distant memory. The development looked great. Compared to North Carolina communities though, they were a little smaller and incrementally more expensive. Unfortunately, that’s not unsurprising as the cost of lumber has risen 112% in the past year.
We loved the vibe of Colorado, but the more we imagined living there, the more we realized it probably wouldn’t be in the cards for us. We didn’t have any family there, or even in the time zone. Each year, we’d spend months getting acclimated to the altitude, and still be in relatively cold weather, albeit the low humidity would make a significant difference. Plus, in this specific spot, we were east of the Rockies. All we’d see were the plains, which, while amazing, aren’t those magestic mountains. We did learn some things though:
- It would be no problemo obtaining a 30-year mortgage at our age
- Current mortgage rates translated to approximately $650 — $700/mo. per $100k borrowed
- Prices had been increasing approximately 3% every four-to-six weeks
I greeted Friday, our last day in Boulder, with another run. Fourth in eight days. First time I felt comfortable, back in the swing of it. Gave me hope for getting back into the groove once we got back to Wayne, NJ, in April and then Forest Lake for the season.
We drove to the southwest corner of town and hiked on the Chautauqua Trailhead. I wanted to say hello and goodbye to Green Mountain and South Boulder Peak as they’d been gracing our windows for the past week. At the top of the trail, the elevation was an additional 1,400 ft., and every vantage point offered an amazing view of Boulder and its surrounding terrain. In New York metro when the weather folk talked visibility, they always capped it at ten miles. Out here, that felt like table stakes. We were able to see two-to-four times farther out. That sense of nature was powerful and hit me in my core. I’ve tried to have so much under my control, but as I looked out at this vista of vastness, I was reminded that that was pure folly. That what our world has to offer is so much bigger than anything I could comprehend. Thinking about things from that perspective, and accepting it, was very calming. I felt at peace, for a couple of minutes at least 😉.
We went back to town to play my bi-weekly get-outta-jail card for a drink and a burger! We stopped by our friend and sommelier, Julianne, at Silver Valley Winery right off the Pearl Street Mall on 13th Street. On our first trip into town, she invited us back for a glass of wine, and we took her up on it. As you may recall, she’d been here for a few months, having moved from Florida. Her loves were wine and skiing, so it made sense. Speaking to folks from different parts of the country (or world) with different sensibilities has been like taking a trip in itself. And, as we haven’t had much of that, have been starved for that, it was a pleasure kicking off the weekend this way!
We drove to the World Famous Dark Horse Bar and Grill, which was recommended by both Spence’s friend, Dave, who has lived here for a couple of years, and Jim Pachak, my manager from Taleo days. It was Friday at 5pm, and they were closed. So, how world-famous was it? We headed back to the winery because it was next door to The Post Brewing Co. and they happened to serve a delicious burger — caramelized onions and cheddar on an English muffin. I coupled that with their Townie IPA, and now we were in my sweet spot. All was right with the world. Plus, while sitting outside under their heated lamp, guess who came by? Floyd! The part great dane, part mastiff we saw last week when we were eating on Pearl Street. Floyd! Seeing him, and hangin’ with Julianne again, we felt like we were becoming part of this community. It was another case of coming to an area knowing nobody and knowing nothing and leaving having gotten a taste of the place. Yay!
We headed back and watched Nomadland with Frances McDormand. I found it to be incredibly poignant. It’s about a subset of disenfranchised people in our country, who haven’t received much attention. During and after the depression, there were a lot of songs and literature about folks riding the rails from town to town. Brother Can You Spare a Dime? Steinbeck’s East of Eden. These brothers and sisters have lived out of their vans, taken incremental hourly work in different locales where the weather’s been mild, and have lodged at RV parks when they could afford it. And, when they’re not working, their screens have been mother nature. They’ve roamed our country sans Airbnb and hotel rooms. It seemed like a solitary existence that they didn’t choose, but rather chose them over time. Like a coat of armor they’d earned, based on having been dealt a less-than-optimal hand in the game of life. It was a beautiful, albeit purposefully slow-moving movie. I’d be lying if I didn’t say that it left me unsettled for a day or so. It wasn’t quite Deer Hunter unsettling, but nothing has been.
Come Saturday morning, we said good-bye to Kasey the manager at the Residence Inn. We told her that her smile and welcoming nature were a big part of the reason we came back to stay there on our return to Boulder. And we shared that with her manager as well.
We packed SC with the efficiency of a Swiss watch.
Onward — meet us in St. Louis!
And, as always, questions, feedback, and recommendations are welcome. I consider these posts to be fluid documents that I reserve the right to update from time to time as I receive additional content.
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