High Country: Wolves on the wind, Denver blurs past

Last shot from Trout Haven

Nancy beckoned excitedly to joined her as I groggily lurched down the staircase. What sound could require such urgency out here? Outside the wind blew assertively. What the wind ferried was far more interesting than its rustle through the yellowing aspens.

Several miles away, the residents of the Colorado Wolf and Wildlife Center were howling. A succession of complicated, rolling howls came from the southeast. Wolves has been extirpated in Colorado, but these captive-born canines provided a soundtrack that would have been common to the state’s settlers and the Mountain Men who roamed the wilderness hunting beaver and plotting trails. To us, the mere sound of wolves was tonic to 21st century ears.

The Todds have left the cabin

On a last walk, I continued to hear the wolf chorus, its long mournful howls sometimes broken by waves of barks and yips. The calls urged me forward, growing louder.

My body had almost grown accustomed to the altitude and moved at a familiar pace. When the walk ended, it was time for a quick breakfast and quicker shower before packing our wares.

Time had expired on this Trout Haven excursion. We finished ahead of the 10 a.m. checkout time, with Nancy’s parents ready for the home by 9 a.m. We all said our good-byes and they began the 1,200 mile drive to Tennessee.

Living room with slot machine

After her parents drove down the hill, we reentered for a final look. Nancy photographed the rooms. I could only imagine how bittersweet it felt to leave a place that meant so much. Sure, the family cabin’s transformation into a vacation rental allowed a reunion, but it was only temporary. By 3 p.m., the new tenants would turn the lock.

After that last walk-through, we locked up. Nancy just said, “Goodbye, house” – the traditional valediction when leaving the Todd family cabin to return to Dallas– and we too drove down the hill. When we’ll sleep beneath its roof again, nobody knows.

It's hard to get tired of Pike's Peak

After wandering through Manitou Springs in a vain search for spring water stations, we rounded a sharp corner with a sign for Rainbow Falls Natural Area. Circling back, we had to stop. A short walk brought to the falls on Fountain Creek. The falls form in a tiny slot in the rocks, falling 45 feet, then cascading down through numerous smaller cataracts on Fountain Creek’s path toward Pueblo, where it joins the Arkansas River.

Rainbow Falls, truth in advertising

Even more intriguing was the bridge crossing above the falls and the creek's rock walls. Every surface, no matter how far from reach, had been tattooed in spray paint. Other visitors occupied the rocks closest to the falls, so wander banks a little further down. These days, it doesn’t feel like a vacation unless we remove our shoes for a little traipse through running water, and Rainbow Falls unexpectedly cooled our weathered soles.

In all their family trips to Colorado, Nancy never visited Garden of the Gods, Colorado Springs’s massive red-rock city park. We had to remedy this as soon as we descended from Manitou Springs. Claiming such a unique space as a city park only furthered my urge to move to Colorado Springs.

On the weekend, it was quite crowded with day visitors. We drove through, but didn’t do the place justice. We would have been better off visiting during the week when Garden of the Gods draws fewer people. After a healthy stop at the trading post, we just drifted through the park and its august rock formations.

The drive up 25 shifted from a road winding through rock formations to mundane metropolitan lanes. At least they guided us to the Capitol and our hotel by the airport without incident. Nancy booked a Red Lion inn room within sight of the massive airport.

Rainbow Falls graffiti, also as advertised

But back to the Colorado Capitol. Here’s a little-known fact visible from outside the capitol - it still lacks central air. After we parked to walk the grounds, Nancy immediately pointed out the window air conditioners hanging out everywhere. The irony was delicious – despite a gold-leaf dome, the building left some HVAC functions to be desired.

The third state capitol in a month’s time dazzled at every angel. Somehow we missed the memo that the thirteenth step up to the building marked 5,280 feet above sea level. The capitol glittered and cut sweet profile among the mid-rises and high-rises of downtown Denver. Denver has a unique setup with its government buildings.

After viewing the capitol’s front, one can turn around to face the front plaza of its city hall. The close proximity allowed current Gov. John Hickenlooper to resign as Denver mayor, walk across the lawn to be sworn in as governor in January 2011. This was only notable because Coloradans never elected a Denver mayor to the governor’s office before so Hickenlooper was the first to take those steps. Leaving the capitol grounds, we wandered briefly around Capitol Hill.

Unlike many state capitol districts, this neighborhood thrived on the weekend, with any number of restaurants and beer bars hopping in the early afternoon. We chose Tom’s Diner, an unpretentious western diner serving comfort food like wraps and BLTs. Neat and clean, it fit our needs.

Colorado State Capitol

Across the street from Tom’s, we decided a Sunday afternoon beer at Lost Highway Brewing Company seemed like a good bet. Neither beer disappointed us. My only disappointment came from the lack of brewery stickers – a week before the Great American Beer Festival, most breweries kept their powder dry for the main event.

Abstract bison near Larimer Square

 For a little while we wandered around Larimer Square, not really ending up anywhere. After a failed attempt to visit Stranahan’s Whiskey (we found its building at 4:57; they closed at 5), we headed south to meet Susan, a friend from my Columbus days. She and her future husband left Columbus for Denver, and I ran into them following a 2008 business trip. We met her over beers at a Rock Bottom Brewery south of Denver, and caught up over dinner.

Even as we darted around Denver, it was hard to keep our eyes from the Rocky Mountains and remember the recent days spent at uncommon elevations. Even in the dark, I could spot the jagged line of mountains forming Denver’s western horizon.

Goodbye, house.