Driving from Utah to Colorado, the perfect landscape continues but a few other things change drastically. Morman Temples become replaced with breweries, modest followers of the church turn in to loyal adventure junkies, and instead of trying to understand strange laws I found myself trying to understand an equally esoteric language.
Colorado, with its laid-back style but serious mountains lends itself to those that prefer to put emphasis on play and not work. Every ridiculously adorable mountain town is riddled with natives speaking in local tongue. Terms like shredding the gnar, 14ers, and dispenseries dominate conversation. In every cute coffee shop, dive bar, and hip restaurant, folks can be heard speaking of lines, powder (but not lines of powder, though that’s sometimes popular too), and Patagonia all in joyful and extremely chill tones. Everyone wears a thin puffy coat.
One is never far from a hike. Every corner is a stairway to the start of a trail. Coloradans get their fix on the smallest of treks while dreaming of work free weeks spent deep in the wilderness.
And when the saddest winters of El Nino mean few days of decent snowfall, where snowshoes are forced to be settled for over snowboards or skis, which stay stacked against walls, one million Colorado breweries provide unlimited flowing hops on tap to stave off the inevitable depression that comes with such unfortunate weather. Breweries galore. IPA’s for everyone. Smiles emerge.
Colorado is a blast, bro. Can’t wait to come back. It’s onward to the flatlands.