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The rain ended during the night, the morning was bright and clear and the temperature was climbing into the 90's by 11 am when I rolled into Denver. By now I was sick of being hammered by the wind so I decided it was time to buy a windshield. Coming into Denver I had my eye out for a likely exit to pull over, get some lunch and look up the local Harley dealer. I pulled off the highway onto a fairly industrial looking road featuring construction supply warehouses and used car dealerships. It seemed a likely road to have a diner; as luck would have it, not a mile off the highway was a Harley dealership. I was congratulating myself on my good luck when I pulled into the shop only to find that it was closed. For that matter, most everything was closed. What the hell was going on? It wasn't a holiday.
I continued on down the road looking for an open shop to ask for directions or use their phone book, nearly every store was closed! I finally found an open custom hot-rod shop with a couple of Harley's and some sweet older Chevy's parked out front. I went in and asked if there was another Harley dealer around and was informed that most everything is closed in Denver on Mondays. Damn again. There was however, one motorcycle accessory shop just down the road that might be open. I thanked them and shortly ended up at Performance Cycle of Denver who thankfully were open. Here I picked up a small windshield and a more durable pair of First Gear rain pants. One hour and $200 dollars later I was motoring into downtown Denver with my new windshield looking for lunch and a chance to call my friend Anastasia who lived in Boulder (or so I thought).
I pretty quickly got sick of fighting the Denver traffic and headed into Boulder where I found Peabody's coffeehouse. I didn't have Anastasia's number so I called my friend Mike in San Luis Obispo, CA for her number. I got Mike's answering machine and left a message saying I'd call back in one hour, hoping that I'd be able to catch Mike between classes. Just as I sat down outside with my coffee, one of the clerks in the shop walks outside and says in a loud voice: "Is there a Jon Whitney here?". Huh? It turns out that Mike had been to Boulder one time in his life and had happened to find the same coffee shop I was at and just happened to grab a business card from the place. Very weird. Mike gave me Anastasia's phone number.
Just as I finished my coffee, it began to rain again; good chance to check out the new rain gear. Much better this time, the crotch held and I was still dry by the time I got to Anastasia's house. She had moved since I last talked to her and was back in Denver right where I had just been 2 hours earlier. It was great to see Anastasia and Akasha, the insane dog. I had been the best man at her and Mikes wedding and hadn't seen much of her for the past year or two since they had split up. I got to snooze at her house most of the afternoon and that night we went out to check out Denver after dark.
Though I didn't get to see too much of it, Denver appeared to be a really nice town. Lot's of interesting old west and new west architecture, good restaurants and fun nightspots. All this right next to some of the nicest scenery around. We had dinner at Dixon's restaurant in downtown Denver (LoDo - Lower Denver) and were back at her place by midnight. Anastasia graciously gave up her bed and crashed in her office. Given my level of fatigue her mattress seemed just about the best thing in the world.
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