After leaving Las Vegas I wandered down to Phoenix to visit some old friends that I had not seen in years. It a was nice visit, we grilled out, we drank beer, we went swimming in their pool, we ate pizza, I was introduced to the movie ‘Cars’ by their two year old son, it was quite relaxing….. BUT…. I was still in the DAMN desert! My friends were from MN and had moved south to get away from the mild winters of the Midwest. I asked them, “how do people live in this bone dry, beige-brown, hot ass fucking desert?” “Oh you get used to it.” Get used to it! Nope. Not this guy. Now, I suppose if I had grown up in the frozen north and wanted out of winter then this would be the spot, 60 is crazy cold in an Arizona winter. I will concede the point on the weather; however, I could never learn to deal with the super-dry unceasing brownness of it all. Screw that. So Monday morning, I finally set out with the intent of departing the desert. I said my fond farewells and got busy driving.
After hours of driving, countless miles of construction zones, and several all out stoppages on the highway, I finally made it to Four Corners. When I first saw the sign for cheesy tourist trap (hours before), I thought it might be kind of cool to stop and do the stupid touristy thing, you know, stand in four states at once and take a picture……. I think I saw the ‘Four Corners’ sign in my rear view mirror. I was not stopping at this point for anything but fuel or sleep. As I had just topped off my gasoline, I decided to aim for a rest stop that was about 90 miles away. No problem I thought, I’ve only been in the car for 11 hours, I can do that, no problem. Then, as I weaved along the mountain roads I began to see a few deer. At first one, then another, then, they were fucking everywhere. For 40+ miles I saw dozens of those beady eyed bastards crouched along the side of the road like they’re waiting for the starting gunshot at a fucking track meet. I swear those fuckers were perfectly lined up along the outer white line just waiting to leap in front of me. I was just waiting for one of those assholes to false start and smack right into me. I don’t think I blinked for an hour. Finally I reach the rest stop which looks like something out of a horror movie. A light mist was covering the whole area, there was not one single other car there, and it was completely utterly dead silent. Not even one cricket. Creepy. I think I slept with my machete in my hand.
The next day I awoke, excited to hit Denver. I always have fun here. I was also in luck, the Cubs were in town to play the Rockies! A couple of my friends that live in Denver are baseball nuts so, of course we were going to go. This could get interesting. Shots of whiskey started of the night, which led to Jame-o gingers, which led to Buswiesers and shots at some place called the Tilted Kilt. This place only hires ridiculously attractive women and then requires them to wear the tiniest of white shirts and tiniest of kilts. It’s basically a Scottish Hooters with WAY better looking women. The game was a shit show. Both the Rockies and the Cubs are pretty bad, but the Rockies being the absolute worst team in baseball gave me some hope that throwing a couple bucks on the Cubs was not a bad idea. The cubs wonin extra innings, and we set off into downtown Denver with bourbon, beer, and billiards on our minds. The last game of scotch doubles got a little hazy and I’m 95% sure we lost every single game of pool we played that evening, but I do know that I had a damn good time.