Body Clocks and Red Rocks
.. and the birth of a tradition
Well I did better than usual in the jet lag adjustment stakes - although the 7 hour time difference is not too extreme I suppose. Regardless, after conning my body into going back to sleep several times, I ran out of (or into?) steam by about 5am local time. Which was fine as I felt quite refreshed, but it caught up on me later. More of which later!
I bid an early farewell to Mile High City (or at least as much of a farewell as is warranted when I have only experienced the lifeless outer suburbs near the airport). Still Denver looked purty in the distance as I cruised south on I70 (not as purty as the snow covered Rockies that I was driving towards but still, possibly worth trying to work some time there at the end of the trip).
I am on my way to take a look at the Red Rocks Amphitheatre ( with an appropriate Live Bands at Red Rocks sub-playlist of course). I did check to see if it would be possible to see a gig here but it turned out the only one in the next few days was Sting. Meh. I’m not rearranging the trip for Sting. Sheryl Crow is playing early in June which is tempting, but I suspect probably too early for me, so I will just have to content myself with taking a look at one of the world’s most spectacular venues.
It’s quite a reveal as you approach through rolling, verdant hills and then all of a sudden, red outcroppings start to make their presence felt. I park up when I think I am close (although not, as it turns out, in the car park which would have avoided and walk or climb, but I’ll take those steps!).
I had wondered whether the altitude would cause me problems, but not so much … at least until I tried to climb a couple of hundred steps up to the top of the amphitheatre. I definitely felt that. Annoyingly, the site seemed to be full of very fit people showing exactly how much pain they didn’t suffer from running up and down the seats. I got the impression that it was a regular weekend event, but it just seemed a bit rude to rub that in the faces of people who looked like they needed defibrillators. The guy doing it two steps at a time backwards was just taking the piss.
Still, there were lots of healthy, beautiful people about, including a number of “influencers” being filmed in fitness defining poses. LA in the Rockies was how Ethan characterised it to me via a text exchange. Very much so.
Ethan also pointed out that I was only a mile or two from some dinosaur bones and tracks, so obviously I had to make a minor detour there. The weather forecast had said that UV was at “dangerous” levels today. I’m not exactly sure what that means but I could certainly feel it while walking the dino trail and was glad that I had slapped on the factor 50 earlier.
Onwards to the Manitou cliff dwellings. I’m intending to visit a few of the old pueblo Indian dwellings on this trip. This is a more modern construct (built in 1898 an occupied by native Americans until 1984, according to the leaflet that I was given), but gives a fascinating insight into the way families lived together. The museum was quite interesting as I am now aware of the different types of Pueblo dwellings from different periods and geographical locations. I believe I will be visiting further cliff dwellings and great houses, but not sure if I will manage any of the others.
At this point, I found myself flagging a bit. It was too early to check into the motel ( random selection booked that morning based on proximity to the Garden of the Gods, which turned out remarkably well), so I opt to visit the Garden of the Gods earlier, rather than go for the intended sunset drive, which it is very likely that I won’t make.
The Garden of the Gods is full of spectacular rock formations (obviously red rocks, that being the theme of the day) so I stop for a few photo ops as I drive through before deciding that I have to see if I can check in at the motel early.
The Motel is called the Garden of the Gods Motel. All well and good but I would have gone with Motel of the Gods as both a reference to the park and as a major PR ploy. I’m now wondering if I misread the name at 6am this morning and that’s why I booked it..? It is cheap and cheerful, clean and well located, which are reasons enough. The person living in a van in the car park seems to be a feature, but who knows, he may be one of the eponymous gods?
By 4pm, I am ready to eat before I fade completely, and it seems that directly across the road is Trail’s End Tap room. Beer and food a 2 minute walk? I don’t imagine that I will overthink the dinner decision.
Turns out it is a self-serve Tap Room which could be, and turns out is, quite dangerous.
And so I find myself in exactly the same position as last year on my Pacific North West road trip: jet lagged and exposed to excessively strong IPAs. Seems like a tradition has been born!
And as an added bonus to the excitement of the first day of the road trip I had a room incursion whilst I was asleep. The door opened and a couple were about to enter but swiftly retreated when I awoke with a mighty “What the ..?” I heard them outside saying, “I think he has given us the wrong key again”. Made me wonder whether someone on reception had a side line of renting rooms out by the hour. Might shed a new light on those positive reviews!
Still I guess it is a testament to the comfort of the room (or beer and jet lag) that I instantly fell asleep again. To be fair, the owners were very friendly and couldn’t have been more apologetic when I raised it in the morning. Of course, them giving someone the key to my room also had the side effect of disabling mine and locking me out when I left the room in the morning. Easily fixed and all part of the fun of travel!