Keep Boulder Weird
I’d originally planned to take the Greyhound to Denver and meet my friend Anita for breakfast, then get on the local bus to Boulder, my next stop. Instead, Gary* offers me a lift as he has a funeral to attend in Denver. Although this means less value from my Greyhound Discovery Pass, it also means less travel time and less wierdo dealings, so I accept.
He drops me at a shopping mall and Anita meets me there, so we can have breakfast together. Anita is a fellow Tasmanian who I met in Dubai through a mutual friend back home. Her sister lives in Denver and she’s visiting, but her sister is at a wedding in New York, so she’s at a loose end for a few days. This works well for me, as she offers me a ride to Boulder. Maybe the gods are making up for my lack of transport yesterday by providing well today.
Anita takes me to meet my next couchsurfing host, Brad*. Again at Brad’s place I have my own lovely room, so I drop my bags and after an introductory chat, leave Brad to get on with his working day. Anita and I head into the centre of Boulder. Boulder is similar to Colorado Springs in that it sits at the base of the Rocky Mountains, but that’s where the similarity ends. Colorado Springs is conservative, apparently due to the influence of a big religious sect called Family First. Boulder, on the other hand, is extremely liberal. The centre of town is Peal Street, which is pedestrianised for four or five blocks and has buskers, fountains, art galleries and interesting little cafes. It’s quite funky. Neither Anita nor I have been to the Cheesecake Factory, so we sit in the sun and treat ourselves to a slice of Caramel Pecan Turtle Cheesecake. It sounded like a good idea at the time, and after the first bite, we are well impressed, but it’s so sickly sweet that by the third bite we both feel mildly ill.
Anita drops me back to the house and Brad and I went go to the supermarket to buy supplies for dinner. Despite my protests, Brad insists on paying for the groceries, then cooks me a really nice dinner of salmon, asparagus and squash. Afterwards, he hands me a cowboy hat and a headlamp, while he puts on an 80s rapper outfit and straps a boom box to his back blaring out rap. We cycle to his friend’s house to prepare for the Boulder Thursday Night Cruiser Ride. Every Thursday, people jump on their bikes and head into the town centre, quite often in some kind of costume. Once a crowd has gathered, the ride gets underway, collecting even more people along the way. Everyone yells out “Happy Thursday” as they madly pedal in half-darkness. We find them part way through and join the crowd of around 300 people, cycling along the bike path near the creek in town. Someone calls out a location, everyone rides there, hangs around a little, and then someone else yells out the next location and so it goes. This continues until we are down to about 10 people and then everyone disperses.
The Best Breakfast in America
I’ve only planned one night in Boulder – it really deserves more – so I get up and get ready to make a move, Brad’s still in bed by the time I’m ready to leave, so I write a thank you note and let myself out. Anita picks me up and we head for breakfast to prepare us for the hike I’ve picked for today, called Royal Arch. We walked past a little cottage that has been converted into a café yesterday and thought it looked like a promising brunch venue. We are spot on. Lucile's Creole Cafe dishes up one of the best breakfasts I’ve had in America. I have poached eggs with Hollandaise sauce on a bed of creamed spinach, topped with Gulf Prawns, and served with Cajun potatoes. It also comes with a Buttermilk Scone and Rhubarb Jam. The whole thing is a delicious combination of flavours that should get me through the walking.
The hike begins at Chataqua Park, which we find relatively easily. It starts off through a field of dry yellow grass and heads into the Flatiron Mountains, getting steeper and steeper as it goes. It’s not an easy walk, but I’m feeling a little fitter for all my hiking and it seems to be paying off. We make it to the top after a few hours, which is a natural rock arch with fantastic views over Boulder and the region. There are little chipmunks bounding over the rocks, providing great wildlife photo opportunities and we sit and enjoy the view, then start the hike back down. It’s easier in reverse and we take a different fork at one stage, so the views are a little different, too.
We drop back in to the centre of Boulder to feed my caffeine addiction, then head towards Denver. Along the way, we drive past Red Rock Amphitheatre, so drop in to check out the views. It’s a little bit like the Garden of the Gods – red rock formations surrounded by lime green grasslands. There are some hikes in the area, but it is also used as a concert venue. There’s a concert in the evening, so we can’t check out the actual amphitheatre, but we go to the lookout and take in the views.
Back in Denver, we shower and freshen up then head to the local pub for a quick dinner. Anita then drives me to the Greyhound, ready for my overnight trip to Salt Lake City.
I’m determined to muffle the wierdo magnet somehow on this trip, so when I get on, I sit near the window and start typing on my laptop to look busy. A young guy in military uniform with a boyish face very politely asks if he can sit next to me, so I agree. I’m pleased when he doesn’t offer any inappropriate information within the first ten minutes. He’s friendly without being creepy and seems quite sweet. He is heading home to Portland for his leave after completing his basic training in the army. The only slightly odd factor for me is that he has quite a large tattoo on his forearm that says “TRUTH” in bold letters, with a scripture reference underneath. I ignore it.
There's No Room in the Inn
We pull into Salt Lake City right on time at 9.55am. Alexis should be waiting there for me as her bus from Vegas arrived two hours earlier. We Skyped the other day and planned to meet up here. I can’t see her anywhere, and start to worry that she’s not going to show, but she shows up minutes later and she’s done the research on how we get to the airport to pick up the rental car. We head out the back of the Greyhound station to catch the bus. It’s due at 10.45am and it’s now 10.20am. We wait. We wait some more. Then we wait even more. No bus. At 11.10am, I find an official looking person to question and she gives me the phone number for the bus company. It turns out the schedule they have at the Greyhound station is old and inaccurate. The bus was at 10.15am, so we just missed it. At least we know now that we only have another five minutes to wait for the next one.
We find the rental counters at the airport, only to discover that Utah law is different from other states, and our relatively cheap rental car has doubled in price as there is no basic insurance included in the quote. This may have just turned into the most expensive economy car hire in the world. We go and check with some of the other companies, but they’re all the same.
We shrug it off, throw our stuff into the little silver car that will be home for the next five days, set up the GPS and head out. We’re aiming for one of the gateway towns near Glacier National Park in northern Montana, but we haven’t booked any accommodation in case we don’t get that far. It’s about a ten-hour drive. We cross the state line between Utah and Idaho and drive through a lot of wheat and potato fields before we arrive in Montana, which is a little greener. The drive is nowhere near as scenic as my previous foray into southern Utah, but we entertain each other and it has a certain charm… for the first few hours.
At around 9pm, we decide it’s time for dinner, but we seem to have run out of towns. We pull into a random roadside bar, but it has a portable toilet outside and it’s really quiet, so we decide that is just not going to cut it. Instead, we drive on until we find a supermarket and Alexis whips us up wraps as we drive on.
When we get close to Whitefish, we start looking for somewhere to stay. The first few motels are near a lake and fully booked, so we figure we’ll have to head closer to the town proper. The motels there are all booked too. There are no vacancies anywhere. We try three different towns and finally give up and decide to sleep in the car. We stop at a big 24-hour supermarket and smuggle our toothbrushes in so we can use their bathrooms to clean our teeth and get ready for bed. We then drive through the back streets and find a quiet spot between other cars, but not outside anyone’s window. We lay the seats all the way back, use our extra clothes as blankets and pillows and drop off to sleep.
*Names changed
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