7/9/25 Denver

There’s been so much going on at work that this feels like a very needed break.

That said, it’s been a whirlwind of a week in Colorado. Arrived in Denver Tuesday afternoon and made my way down to Heid’s place in Englewood. As always I was surprised by 1. how far away from everything they placed their airport (although I am now privy to two conflicting theories proprosed by uber drivers) and 2. How flat Denver itself is. Heidi lives in the kind of suburban landscape that I have no experience with. The closest might actually have been working for Nordstrom at Washington Square Mall, but of course, I didn’t live there. Her apartment is nicely laid out and the complex has not 1, but 2 pools. There are kids running around everywhere and it feels like a slice of community.

On Thursday we headed to the mountain town of Buena Vista (pronounced boo-na). Sitting at almost 8000 ft, this tiny mountain town of about 3000 residents is nestled in the Rockies with Arkansas River running through. The town feels (probably is) historic with brick buildings and a sorta Old West feel.

The drive up was a beast. Apparently all of Denver leaves Denver for the 4th of July weekend and they all head to the mountains. So… the 115 mile drive took about 6 hours. And mind you, it was a stunning drive. Up through the pine forest through mountain passes that open into sweeping high valleys. The green was intense, long grasses rippled as though water, we saw a moose and several deer. Cliffsides boasted amazing rock formations. The sky was enormous. But mostly we saw other cars. The same other cars. We learned that Winnebago makes a very cool camper van called a Solis. We contemplated RVs vs camper vans vs teardrop trailers. And at some point, maybe around the brief rainstorm, Heidi and I just completely lost it and began laughing hysterically. Lilah & Sienna did not find it as amusing as we did. Clearly they have never experienced the hilarity of giving up hope.

The best thing about traveling with mothers is that the snack game is strong. So we arrived at our airbnb a bit after 8pm in good spirits. We made a quick meal and called it a night. Heids and I took the living room and gave the girls the bedroom as there wasn’t much debate regarding who’d be up first.

The next morning Heidi, Sienna & I headed through a quaint (and crowded) town to the trail by the Arkansas River. Colorado has 58 peaks that are over 14,000 ft and Buena Vista abuts against the Sawatch range within the Rockies that hosts more than any other micro range in Colorado.

It was a lovely walk with cacti, pine and spruce trees dominating the scenery. Lots of folks were playing in the river. And the air was thinner. After a relatively short, very sunny, and quiet dusty escapade we ambled back to the airbnb for some afternoon downtime. In the early evening, Heids and I set off down the street to Turner Farms that had a musician performing on the porch of the most classic image of a midwest farmhouse you can picture with a big grassy field interrupted by fruit trees and folks camped out on the grass listening. The performer, who was apparently a sub, played covers, so we knew all the songs. His acoustic guitar performance was highly superior to a very ambitious John Elton cover on keyboard. But we sang along to Billy Joel, Bob Dylan, and someone else.

Then we set off for firewalks. Heidi had read that fireworks would be set off at the rodeo grounds, but initially we thought we’d have a view in town. So we started off in that direction and then noticed a constant stream of cars in the opposite direction. We pivoted and doubled back to the car to follow the herd. Less than half a mile into our route, we noticed a lot full of cars with folks set up to watch from there and decided to pull on in.

So… I’m not sure what the deal is with the fireworks of Buena Vista, we heard rumors of misdeliveries and inadequate funding, but from the looks of them it seems more like a bunch of people went to a reservation and dropped a fair amount of cash. In short, there were a lot of fireworks, but a marked lack of pageantry or coordination (e.g. the biggest was definitely not last). They were, however, plentiful, and the space is so big, so open and expanisve that they lacked the violent noisiness I tend to associate with fireworks. We gave up after an hour or so.

The next morning saw us heading back to Denver on an infinitely less crowded highway. Meanwhile in Mexico City shit had hit the fan. They were working on a transformer repair and apparently were shutting the power off every day, pretty much all day, and my poor housesitter needed to work. The upshot of this is that Leo went to the daycare/doggie hotel MUCH earlier than I’d planned which I didn’t feel great about even though I love the place and they send multiple videos a day.

The evening I headed over at my cousin Jenny’s place in Denver proper to tackle Mt Grey’s Peak EARLY Sunday morning. 3:20am to be specific. We were in the car and on the road by 4am heading out of the city and into the mountains to Grays Peak. It was dark and quiet on the way out, made a pit stop for the bathroom in Georgetown and then turned onto the extremely bumpy 3 mile dirt road to the trailhead. Jenny is an excellent, excellent driver who should be in charge of all rough roads ever. There was a little trepidation as we’d both read that the trailhead parking lot fills up early and we did see some cars parked down below at a lot where you pull of the highway. But as neither of us had any interest in adding 3 miles on each side to our trek, we skittered on past. Fortunately, there was space for us, but it was definitely crowded up there and we were one of the side of the road vehicles rather than properly in the lot. Thank god, it made the 3am wake up time infiinitely more acceptable. We started down the trail at 5:45am, bundled and still a little chilly, but inhaling some beautifully crisp clean mountain air.

Turns out both Jenny and I are slow hikers, so we were well suited. The trail starts on an incline and kinda just keeps going on an incline. It’s a popular hike, so the trail is both extremely well worn and there were lots of folks out early Sunday. We’d gone rounds considering whether it being a holiday weekend would make it more or less popular and in the end, I still have no idea. It was an amazing array of people. Folks in their 20s with a water bottle and shorts cruised passed us, so did some older folks although they were generally more bundled. There were also a bunch of Asian folks in varying degrees of preparedness setting forth. And so many dogs, which felt a bit dicey as there were definitely sections where you needed to pay attention and it’s a leash required area. Wildflowers come late this high up and they were beginning to crop up for us.

I almost immediately fell over slipping on a tiny bit of ice covering a wooden plank bordering the path, but fortunately was unscathed and that was only spill of the day. The trail starts around 11,000ft and Grays Peak sits at just about 14,270. So it was kinda up. The lower section is a gentler up with just amazing views, green hillsides, and rocky terrain that were pika heaven. And now I’m just gonna give you a massive photo dump.

As we ascended, the air grew thinner and the terrain gave way to rock beds. We could hear pika long before we saw them, but pause for just a moment and suddenly the rocks are a flurry with scurrying pika. Also saw a marmot from a distance. As we climbed the terrain became tougher, stairs and scrambling over rocks, patches of snow appeared and the green went away. But we were left with a lovely view of the valley we’d passed through.

This trail affords an opportunity to knock out two 14ers for the price of maybe 1.25 in a lollipop style trail. Grays & Torreys are separated by a high saddle and then descend/ascend on their separate paths. Jenny and I were definitely ready for the trail split signaling that we were getting at least close. And finally we saw it up ahead, emphasis on up, and through a particularly rocky section where you leaned a bit into the hill and chose footing carefully balancing from rock to rock. Jenny opted to take it super slow and encouraged me to mob ahead.

And I did. It was hard and slow going. There were definitely points in the last 1,000 ft of gain where I was just monitoring my watch and being like we’re just taking these 20 ft up at a time. I checked in with myself around any lightheadedness or other signs of the impacts of altitude and while I felt a bit off, I felt safe.

This section was definitely more work and less beautiful than further down, but the people happily descending from the peak always offered a good morning and words of encouragement. By the time I hit 13,700 I think I was going largely on determination. My legs weren’t exactly tired, but they were heavy. I could feel my heartbeat. I was not going to freakin’ turn around at that point. So step by step, gravelly switchback by switchback, I got there and was rewarded with an incredible view of the Rockies. It seemed like nothing else existed in every direction but this wilderness, pristine in appearance from on high. I was lucky that day to have clear skies and no lightening, just a very mild breeze pushing some much needed air my way. More than anything, nature momentarily makes me believe in the divine.

Thoroughly exhausted, I extended my poles and headed back down. Harder on the knees, but oh so much easier on the cardio. On the way down a few folks pointed out goats MUCH further down and I had to work to reel myself in with reminders that I would never catch up to the goats with a sprained ankle. And finally, I came upon one. For those of you who don’t know, I am generally inordinately excited to see wildlife and if I think the possibility exists, I have already spent a good amount of energy prepping myself for disappointment. In fact, I’m not sure I would’ve continued up the mountain except that I hadn’t yet seen a mountain goat. To get both was incredible. I could see a group of goats, really tiny whitish dots that moved, in the middle of the trail below, so I continue to descend with care, although the compared to my pace on the way up, I was practically sprinting.

Carefully, but impatiently, downhill, past dogs and hikers. Carefully over slippy scree. Carefully through the down hill awkwardly spaced and inconsistent in height stairs, carefully over the rocky area (omg I love my poles) and then there they were. Just chilling on a flat part of the trail where it opened to a resting area bordered by short grass, a family of 6, featuring 2 adults, 3 juveniles, and a baby!

So these goats are not remotely people shy. There is not much of a zoom here. I was probably within 10 ft of them. They showed no sign of concern at the stream of people passing them or snapping their photos. Even with the baby. They were shaggy but healthy looking goats, just doing their mountain goat thing.

Feeling a little guilty for abandoning Jenny somewhere, I kept on keeping on and found Jenny, sitting a bit off the trail happily in a field in what was, in all essential points, a Sound of Music set.

“Do you wanna come out here or should come there?” she shouted. “You should come here” I yelled with literally no desire left to walk one unnecessary step. And we made our way back down, past old gold mining shafts, past shoulder high bushes, which I now believe to be huckleberry (thanks internet). Both of us were tuckered and did not remember as much of a incline on the way up near the trailhead. I managed to scrape the tops of both of my pinky toes, so I had a little extra sting and Jenny had hit a rock incorrectly on a toe that was already injured. So we were both worse for the wear. But we made it back to the car and Jenny had an amazing cheesecake stuffed mochi treat for us!

Due to the holiday weekend, it was slow going getting back into town but given the traffic out just a few days prior, this was a walk in the park. The evening saw me inhaling thai food back at Heidi’s and basically passing out sitting up.

Seeing Heids right now is in many ways like seeing a reflection of myself. I’m on a path, so is she. I’m okay with my path, I’m trying to make life good, and it’s just so goddamn uphill. It demands so much of me every day and I just see so many places I’m failing and not being who I want to be, not showing up with patience and gratitude, and I rather think she is too. And it’s sad, and hard, and demanding. And as hyper aware as I am that I can’t take it away for her or make it better, I just want to. And I know she wants to do the same for me. I could also just be massively projecting my feelings and experience on to her, but I don’t think so, or at least not entirely.

Tuesday morning found me running around like a crazy person making photo copies before heading to the Mexican consulate with all my luggage in tow. I then waited. Then talked to someone predominantly in Spanish about why I should be granted temporary residency. And then I made more photocopies in a weird basement. And then I waited more. And then I talked to the woman again, then I waited more while her boss reviewed my application. Then I was told to come back at 3p to pick up my passport with my visa! All amazing news, except for the 3:20 flight I was clearly going to miss. But the immediate upside was to sneak in a bit more time with Jen and see my uncle Steve who’d flown in that morning.

With about an hour and a half to kill and having eaten no food yet, I found a Jewish deli nearby, which was kinda amazing. The consulate is a depressing looking brick building of maybe 3 stories off a wide 4 lane road in Glendale which is a small town immediately bordering eastern Denver. It is strip mall hell with nary a tree. But also Zaidy’s was there and they had an excellent BLTA and the knishes looked amazing. It was a little disconcerting being in a Mexican consulate in the US, I was really uncertain if my highly imperfect Spanish was more or less polite than using English. In Mexico, it’s obvious that you make the effort, but I had some worries about offending folks by not speaking English when it’s clearly the language I’m fluent in. And now my passport has a shiny new visa in it! Next step is the interview with immigration here to get my CURP number and residency card.

That evening, Jenny, Steve & I made our way out to some friends of Steve’s for dinner. Steve was going to be staying the night for an early round golf the next day, and they graciously invited me to join. They are out in the burbs, in the foothills and it is really a beautiful area. Karen & Jeff are lovely hosts.

Jenny lives near City Park which is over 300 acres and includes the Zoo and the Museum of Nature & Science. It also has a big lake. At dusk, we took Fitz (Jenny’s enthusiastic black lab) for a walk. Swan boats with lights gathered around the fountain in the park and hundreds of geese slept by an island. It was a nice walk, stretching out still taut calves and the evenings, while cooler, remain quite comfy.

And suddenly it was Wednesday and time to head home. Jenny drove me out to the airport and we stopped at a place called Good Bread for tasty treats. I wanted one of each, but instead I got one pastry total. A delightfully flaky tomato and bacon danish. Maybe a touch oily, but damn was it good.

And then, in the spirit of almost all travel this week, shit got wild. They overbooked flight and were offering $1000 credit to rebook. So I went up to check it out. Turns out there was another flight to Mexico City at 5pm with a short layover in Houston, just like the flight I was supposed to take, AND they’d be putting me in first class. So I went for it. First class got me into the United lounge and I was also armed with $30 in food vouchers. Other upside was that I was able to attend class! Although this did mean some more finagling around my lovely Mexico crew grabbing Leo from daycare before 7pm, cause I was not coming in till 11p now. And then! Apparently Houston had had a bit of a storm earlier that day and they were still recovering timing wise, which meant we sat on the tarmac while I watched my 45 minute layover window dwindle and began to seriously doubt whether $1000 credit was gonna be worth it if I missed this flight. After making a friend booking it to the same flight and a madcap dash, we arrived just in time for the plane to start boarding, aka, madcap dash probably not necessary. My flight left about 40 minutes late and I got home shortly before 1am to a very happy Leo.

This was my first trip out of Mexico that felt like vacation. So far, I’d gone home, which made this trip the first time I really like I was coming home to Mexico. Part of it could be the visa, though with the protest against foreigners (read: Americans) on the 4th, I’m having somewhat mixed feelings about that piece. And I think mostly it was coming back to familiarity and routine. And of course my darling pup. But it felt good. I started making plans to get an unfurnished place in a less white neighborhood and buy things, tie myself here in some vital way. And I think I really needed that.