Colorado with my Dad

So for those of you who are regular readers of my travel blog (hi mom 👋) you’ll know that I typically cover trips that Sarah and I take together. Well, this time around we have a quick guest appearance from my dad, Regius, with whom I took a weekend trip to Colorado because… I dunno, why not?

Against my better judgement, I’m going to kick this off with the best picture from our trip… perhaps the best picture I’ve ever taken or will ever take. Behold, a candid photo of my dad in an outhouse that provides a stunning view for the user and a view slightly less stunning for anyone else.

In case you’re wondering… yes, he asked me to fetch him a stick “so I can fix this urinal” and no he did not fix the urinal. But the fact that he thought to try is my dad in a nutshell. 😃

We were there from Friday to Monday, I think, and all we did was hike and eat… oh, and watch about half of The Blues Brothers.

Because I’m not so sure it matters which photo was taken on which hike, I think I’m just going to blend them all into one gallery-o-Colorado (that’s too many Os). We opted not to plan and just ask locals to point us in interesting directions and they delivered. Although in fairness, the skylines of Colorado did most of the heavy lifting.

As it turned out, they were having a duck race 🦆🏁 the weekend we were there. Surely a welcoming thing the town threw together last minute in our honor. They dumped around 13,000 ducks into a stream that ran behind the place we were staying. We arrived home from a hike to find thousands of ducks being shepherded down the stream by some very environmentally conscious volunteers.

No streams or ducks were harmed in the process.

The race culminated in town with something like $25k going to the winning duck. This yearly event raises over $300k for local charities and draws crowds far in excess of the local infrastructure. It was a really fun thing to happen upon. The track seemed about 1-2 miles long and wound its way lazily past homes and rentals where families had laid out picnics to sit and watch. It was about the most wholesome event I’ve seen since the Puppy Bowl.

We also had some of the best pizza I’ve ever had, which says a lot coming from a guy from the northeast. They had an odd ordering system involving a QR code and a “how-to speech” that began… “have you dined with us before”? They neglected to mention the pizza would be delivered via robot – a detail I feel ought to have made the presentation. I’ve been surprised by worse and we’re probably not far from being surprised when a human brings us food… so I’ll file it under “good practice” and move on.

Throughout downtown Estes Park, where we stayed, elk were everywhere just wandering about… totally uninterested in the humans around them. I wouldn’t dare try, but it seemed as if you could just walk up and pet them. Here is a whole herd of them just chilling outside a Starbucks… at which I waited lazily while my 72 year old father ran 5 miles at 7,500′ above sea level. I struggle to jog 7,500 feet at any elevation. 💪👴

If you’re ever in Estes Park, check out the Twisted Griffin. It’s an Irish Pub going for their Michelin star. I know, that doesn’t compute for me either but I can tell you based on the food (and the head chef who came out personally to ask me how I wanted my salmon cooked) that they’re going to get it.

Even the Guinness was better here… which I mentioned to them and for which they had an actual explanation. God is in the details. Guinness is in my belly. This place was one of several gems we found through my dad’s superpower of becoming best friends with anyone and everyone within 12 feet of him. I wish I had taken a photo of the mussels we had as an appetizer – best I’ve ever had and I’ve been to Italy and Croatia where they do seafood. Forgive me. I’m right on the line between Gen X and Millennial, so my “take pictures of your food wiring” doesn’t always fire as it’s supposed to – that’s what you get being first off line.

All in all, it was a solid trip. We got in some quality father-son time, got lots of exercise, ate great food, saw some amazing vistas (from which my dad is undoubtedly still recovering), had some stellar home-made cinnamon rolls, and perhaps best of all… had 3 days of being able to fart with impunity. It’s the little things we remember…

Oh, one last thing. I lied. This is the best photo I have ever taken. That’s me (on the right) with my dog Maui, trying his best to be a little human. He just wants to be like his dad.

I can relate.

👋