On Sunday, I awoke in Denver to clear skies and eighty-degree weather, making it easy to rise and shake off the fatigue of the four days of skiing in Salt Lake. I felt so fine, finally on the ground in the Mile High City, a place I have wanted to visit for over ten years. There's a sense of accomplishment in that, an uncovered smile.

With snow in the forecast for the following two days, we hopped into the pickup truck and drove west on Interstate 70. While Denver is indeed in the shadows of the Rocky Mountains, there is some distance between the foothills and the city (15-20 miles), which makes the drive a beautiful, anticipatory experience. We could see them the whole time, the amount of space they took up in our windshield increasing as the wind came in through the open windows.

We were planning on doing a hike, and my friend suggested we check out Red Rocks, the infamous venue nestled in large, sound-friendly rock structures. I had heard so much praise for it over the years, and the biggest surprise to me upon arrival was the size - it's small and intimate, holding under 10,000 people. I expected it to be bigger given its ability to coax musical performances from legends like the Beatles and the Grateful Dead and Carlos Santana and Fleetwood Mac, however it became very clear very quickly that ticket sales are not what tempts the big boys to roll through town.

I ran up the steps, looking down at the ground and my footing until I reached the top. There were many other people enjoying the day - it seems the amphitheatre is a local favorite for a weekend workout. While it may not have been large, it was certainly grand - and most definitely overwhelming.

I can only imagine the ambiance when the stage lights come on and dance on the rocks, the crowd packs in and the city lights of Denver shine in the distance. My friends here in Denver tell me there are often lightening storms during the shows and that, when it's clear, fans sway to the music under a giant bowl of stars, the light pollution low and the moon large over the mountains.

Any trip through Denver should include a half-day adventure out to Red Rocks. There are walking trails around the amphitheater and in the nearby foothills if you want to get in a hike, but the views from the venue are worth the trip alone. There's also a "Hall of Fame" with memorabilia and year-by-year lineups - you will instantly regret you have not spent every summer in Denver.

Photos (click to enlarge):

I was able to get some ridiculous photos at Green Mountain Reservoir near Silverthorne, Colorado, the other weekend, thanks in part to Mother Nature, who decided to drop a double rainbow right on top of the reservoir, the pot of gold seemingly within sight of our campsite (although I was recently told rainbows don't have ends, apparently each person sees a different end). A mixture of light and dark clouds spread out over the tops of the nearby hills, spreading the direct sunlight and providing a backdrop that, when you're standing there looking at it, appears fake (in a good way).

There was a large group of us, the occasion an annually held lobster boil. Nearly 200 lobsters were flown in from New England for the feast, with kegs of beer and over fifty people rounding out the party. It was simply glutenous - there's no way to sugarcoat it - but it was one hell of a good time, especially given the scenic conditions. When you enter Green Mountain Reservoir, be sure to drive the entire loop around the park. It's beautiful, and there are cliff-jumping opportunities on the far west side of the reservoir. Bring your boat and fishing pools, too.

Here are a few photos of Green Mountain Reservoir:

My exploration of Colorado continued this weekend with a backcountry camping adventure to Conundrum Hot Springs in Aspen, the highest elevated natural hot springs in North America at 11,200 feet. Complete story and photos to come, but you can see a preview photo of the springs on Wake and Wander's Facebook page.

The Rocky Mountains have been flexing their muscles all summer as much of my work has been focused out west, starting with a rock climbing adventure in Boulder back in June,humbly hiking my first fourteener, and a recent trip to the cascading lakes of Brainard Recreation Area.

From Aspen we crossed the Independence Pass on the way back to Denver, which is often closed in the winter due to large volumes of snow. It was bright and beautiful for most of the drive, the clouds coming over the mountains only enhancing the already spectacular scenery. Here are a few photos of the drive:

I had almost a 24-hour layover in Denver between my Columbus and Cabo trips, and from the Denver airport we drove straight up into the Rocky Mountains, passing first through Denver and then Boulder before the sun reached high noon. Our destination was Brainard Lake Recreation Area, located an hour and a half from Denver and an hour west of Boulder.

Multiple lakes surrounded by alpine forests and tall peaks sit at various elevations, the ones at the top flowing down into the next in the form of a river. The region was clearly carved by a glacier that has since melted and receded,Isabelle Glacier, and you can hike to it from the trailheads at Brainard Lake.

Grab a map on your way in - it's well-marked and the walk takes you past Brainard and Isabelle lakes. It was in the seventies that day, but I stood on snow when we reached the glacier, the water flowing underneath and serving as the mouth that feeds the lakes and rivers below.

Further establishing this trek as the best layover of my life was the last-minute moose sighting - literally as we were driving out. I pulled the car over and was able to get the photo below. It was the first wild moose I've seen, something that made my face light up. There's just no comparison between seeing that kind of animal in a zoo and standing thirty yards away in the wild.

Check out some of the spectacular sights captured in these photos. Brainard Rec Area is open June through October, and it's $9/vehicle to enter. You can walk in for $1 if you start at another trailhead.

A couple weeks ago, I watched the documentary Food Inc., and now I'm all messed up in the head.

Backstory: I was a vegetarian for five years throughout my late teens and early twenties, the initiative ignited when I learned about factory farming and the disgusting disrespect for animals throughout the process. I didn't really have a plan, I just stopped eating red meat and poultry indefinitely. The longer I went, the better I felt. The more I learned, the less interest I had in returning to my old habits.

Eventually, though, the same problems caught up with me that people struggle with every day - ones laid out in the Food Inc. documentary. We live in a weird world, one whose food industry fosters the illogical reality where a burger and fries is cheaper than a salad. It was not only expensive to be a vegetarian, it was exhausting at times, and I suppose I just ran out of gas, preferring the simplicity of packing a turkey sandwich that would fuel a 10-hour work day to the creative process that constructing a vegetarian meal can become. I still kept the healthy habits I had learned from the experience, but I was back on the sauce, so to speak.

Any thoughts I had of returning to the veggie-lifestyle were erased when I got into travel writing. There is no doubt a niche out there for vegetarian eating when it comes to travel, but my thoughts were (and still are) that it would limit me in my writing, in my quest to experience all the world has to offer. You can't exactly say no to barbecue in the south, salmon in Alaska, or gumbo in New Orleans and expect to get the full flavor of the area.

Watching Food Inc. (and similar documentaries) is healthy because it tells you things you already know but don't want to think about: Where the food in your grocery store comes from, how it's grown and/or processed, the effects of its production on your health, how those who have benefited from large-scale food production were appointed to government positions by lawmakers, etc.

I used to joke with people who shopped at farmer's markets by asking them if they enjoyed overpaying for produce, and now I'm going to do everyone a favor and willingly stick my foot in my mouth. I don't expect anyone to uproot their lives overnight, however I do think we all need to take a look at our habits and analyze the behavior of industries that our dollar will end up supporting and reinforcing.

There is currently a big farm-to-fork movement in Colorado (and in other cities across the country), and I think the support for this concept is something we can all agree on, both as travelers and locals. Does the restaurant do its best to buy ingredients from local suppliers and farmers?  If nothing else, this is a good starting point for everyday consumers - choosing restaurants that support organic, ethical food production.

Last night I went to such an establishment in the Highlands called Root Down. Owner Justin Cucci believes the greenest thing is something that already exists, a mindset that is immediately backed up by the restaurant's location in a space formerly occupied by a gas station. Whatever produce and herbs they don't get from their on-site garden is purchased from farms throughout Denver, and they even give a shout out to their local suppliers on the menu and constantly update the "organic percentage" of the food they offer. It was 75% when I went, and I appreciate the hell out of the transparency.

Veggie-burger sliders, mussels in a Thai red curry sauce, sun-dried tomato pizzetta with prosciutto and pineapple, and organic sweet potato fries with lime curry sauce were our choices from the rock-solid happy hour menu. Cocktails that are typically $9-$10 will run you $5 from 4:30 - 7 p.m., Monday through Friday.

Those dishes, along with this rant, serve as an appetizer for my culinary adventure to Columbus, which I will preview tomorrow. Hope you're hungry - lots of food chatter on the way.

My relationship with traditional Italian restaurants over the years has been constantly conflicted by my Italian upbringing, one in which my grandmother and mother would have simultaneous heart attacks if they found out I went to a restaurant for spaghetti, ravioli, or gnocchi.

Fact: A man from an Italian family is never going to have anything better than a mediocre experience at a family-style Italian-ish restaurant, plain and simple. I know I'm not alone in bearing this cross - millions of people endure the suffering that stems from a culinary-endowed family tree. I'm being a smartass, but it's true: Sometimes our mamas just spoil us, and for years I passed on opportunities to dine out at Italian restaurants. Why spend the money when it's better at home?

Contemporary Italian food has really allowed me to start venturing back out to the tables, however, as going out for Italian no longer means putting a stranger's version of gravy up against the family brand. Restaurants now seek to build off and transform the traditional recipes, creating new flavors and well-presented, colorful dishes. A quick side-by-side look at the traditional bowl of spaghetti and today's pasta plates clearly shows the great differences between "now" and "then," see some examples below.

Interestingly enough (although completely coincidental), my two most recent contemporary Italian meals were both in downtown Denver. Back in April, I enjoyed the award-winning egg ravioli at Prima Restorante in the Hotel Teatro, and last Thursday I decided to give its competition a chance - Panzano in the Hotel Monaco.

Executive Chef Elise Wiggins was also spoiled by her mother, growing up in Louisiana eating gumbo and later attending the Colorado Institute of Art in Denver. After stints in Central America and Puerto Rico (where the restaurant received a AAA Four Diamond award during her tenure), she returned to Denver in 2004 and started at Panzano. Wiggins was unfortunately out of the restaurant when I visited last Thursday, but from the chef's table I was able to take in all of her beautiful dishes.

While some chef's tables can be private or secluded, sitting at the one in Panzano is as if you were sitting at the bar of a nice restaurant, except instead of seeing liquor bottles, you see the chefs preparing every meal. They're approachable and willing to answer questions about what they're making - an awesome perk - and the visual experience kept my attention the entire night. I could see all phases of the process - pasta put into the water, a fried egg placed on the Carbonara Piadina - and the sight, smell, and sound of the preparation was an appetizer in itself.

Assistant General Manager and Wine Director Jason Gordon helped us to pair each course with a glass of wine (a 3-glass flight will run you $16), and the list features many “Tre Bicchieri” award winners from Italy. It was somewhat of an education for me, sampling glasses ofLambrusco, Chianti, and Brachetto.

For $55 a person, you can enjoy a 5-course tasting menu that changes each night. Whatever you decide to order, I would recommend requesting a seat at the chef's table (it is open to everyone and is no extra charge) and settling in for a slow-paced meal. It is in this sense that the old-school Italian traditions are revealed amongst the contemporary cuisine: Many courses, good wine, and long conversation with great food at the heart of the evening.

I'll have more on Panzano in an upcoming Famtripper.com feature - for now, enjoy these photos from the restaurant in downtown Denver:

One more Colorado post before we move on to the Coolest Road Trip and visit four towns over the next two weeks. There's a lot to look forward to, but I'm still having a great time reflecting on my rock climbing experience. The more I learn about the sport, the more amazed I become.

Coors Brewery tempted by pumping the smell of hops into the air on my final day in Colorado - walking through the town of Golden we could clearly smell it - but the drinks would come later. Before my last day of rookie climbing, I headed over to the American Mountaineering Museum for a glimpse at what rock climbing looks like at the most elite level.

And I'll tell you: It looks pretty outrageous.

Every time I'm at a museum a part of me feels like I'm doing myself a disservice by cooping myself up inside - it's a little bit of the restlessness in me - yet without fail I always end up learning something new, a process that reminds me to set aside some time to be inspired by what others have done before me. Not guided, manipulated, or awed into feelings of inferiority, only encouraged to encounter the situations myself.

Another admission: Colorado has cut me down to size. I thought I was in shape, then got kicked around climbing to the top of a 14,000ft mountain. I was comfortable on a bike until I dodged drunks in the Circle of Death. And before I learned about the portaledge, I considered myself adventurous and fearless.

The portaledge is a device/tent that climbers use to sleep during multiday climbs. While lots of people are concerned about their kids rolling out of a bunk bed, advanced climbers are sleeping suspended in the air - sometimes thousands of feet above the ground.

Here are a few photos courtesy of LIFamilies.com. The first one is obviously a joke, but the others are pretty impressive. I have nowhere near the skill and experience this sort of feat takes, but it certainly brings a smile to my face to know that humans can find a way to accommodate almost any situation, no matter how much logic tells us it's not feasible.

I'm currently writing the story for the Small Newspaper Group about my rock climbing tripwith the Colorado Mountain School in Boulder - so I'll save most of my commentary until I see what's what - but I did want to share some photos.

I must say, looking through these it really hit me - the beauty of Boulder, the grandeur of the entire experience. It's one thing to climb in a gym or in some unknown mountain range, it's another to tackle the entrance to the Rockies. Boulder is considered one of the top places in the world to climb, and I can certainly see why - the arena is what will ensure I never forget the trek.

Hopefully, these photos give you an idea of what I'm babbling about. 

Repelling in Eldorado Canyon

 

Climbing in Eldorado Canyon.

 

Climbing in Eldorado Canyon.

 

Climbing in Eldorado Canyon.

 

Climbing in Eldorado Canyon.

 

My guide near the top of the Flatirons.

 

 

Resting near the top of the Flatirons.

 

Rocky Mountains

Eldorado Canyon.

This past weekend, as part of my rock climbing story for the Small Newspaper Group, I had the opportunity to stay in a cabin at Chautauqua Park, located in the town of Boulder, Colorado (30-40 mins northwest of Denver).

The park is easily recognizable due to its iconic rockface known as the Flatirons. I climbed the first flatiron, the one all the way to the right, on Saturday with the Colorado Mountain School (story to be published in July):

Over the weekend I tackled a few of the hikes, and I must say that I found the park rather amazing. The Royal Arch Trail is challenging, especially given the unforgiving altitude, but the reward is more than worth it once you reach the unmistakable structure (see photo of the arch below). The views from the mountainside are simply stunning, and the aura is enriched after you understand the backstory, that people have been coming to this same place for over a hundred years in an attempt to clear their minds and exercise their bodies.

Quick history: The park grounds were opened in 1898 as part of the Chautauqua Movement, which started in the latter half of the 19th century as a way to unite and educate people across the United States. What began as a summer camp for Sunday school teachers developed and broadened to include general adult education, including public affairs, current events, and liberal arts as well as other moral and civil issues. This was before the invention of television and radio, helping to provide the middle and working class with "a college outlook." It grew to be quite popular: In 1915, about 12,000 communities hosted a chautauqua.

While the Great Depression pretty much put the brakes on the movement soon after, Chautauqua Park in Boulder is one of the few to remain intact and it is the only chautauqua that is open year-round and provides free access to its grounds. The park still hosts films and forums, but the real treat is the incredible landscape. Residents of both Boulder and Denver flock to the park daily - this is no tourist trap.

Visitors to the Denver area who seek a true outdoor experience should look into the cabins available for rent - they are located at the foot of the Rockies and along the main road that feeds the hiking trails of Chautauqua Park. I'd recommend renting a car so you can take advantage of the entire region: Boulder Canyon, Eldorado Canyon, and the mountain towns of Breckenridge and Frisco are all great day trip options for hiking, biking, and climbing (and of course skiing/snowboarding in the winter).

Here are a few photos of the park - climbing photos to come:

Say what you want about the type of music they were playing, the clothes they were wearing (pajamas), the booze they were intaking, or the seriousness of their safety - the Denver Cruiser Ride is officially the king of all biking groups.

It was like Americans had turned into Europeans: Heading to hang out at the local square, drinking and socializing and using the public space as a place built for the people, not an observatory for tourists or a cigarette spot for corporate employees.

They made a few stops on the way there, though - a bar or two, for sure. There was spider-web lightening in the area, the flashing sky bringing even more personality to the evening. The starting place and theme change, but they ride every Wednesday, rain or shine. And they always dress the part - you'll see the costumes, bikes, and rituals in the video.

The Circle of Death is something to see - a mob of people riding around a stationary party in the center - and there was no way I could stand on the sidelines and not give it a go. I realized very quickly how it earned its name - navigating, entering, and exiting the circle requires more attention than an episode of LOST.

If anyone has seen something like this in another city (outside of a flash mob), please do let me know. Denver law allows those of age to drink in any city park, an obvious advantage over cities with stricter government control over what they can and cannot do. Honestly, I've never seen an organized club so brilliantly unorganized.

Check out the Circle of Death:

One of my friends told me that she usually starts to "feel it" around 13,000 feet.

We were about a mile into the three to four mile ascent, and we had just come across a pack of mountain goats on the snow-covered rocks. The dog chased them as far as he could over the ridge, stopping when the pitch became too intimidating, looking down at the goats that now stood comfortably on the side of the mountain.

I inhaled deeply. We were around 10,000 feet and I knew the air was thin, but I felt like a million bucks - the blue sky, fluffy clouds, wildlife, and distant peaks distracting me from the stress on my body. In a few minutes this would all change - this was no ordinary hill.

Classified as a fourteener, a mountain over 14,000 ft, Quandary Peak is located just outside of Breckenridge (80 miles from Denver). There are approximately 70 fourteeners in the lower 48 states, and 53 of them are in Colorado (numbers may vary depending upon source as each uses slightly different qualification criteria). It's a thing around here, for sure. People keep track of how many they've hiked, and when you tell someone you've hiked your first they are genuinely congratulatory.

I wrote in a recent feature that Denver's urban/outdoor combination attracts an active and athletic population, and now I'm starting to wonder if that might have been an understatement. Those used to living at sea level who consider themselves to be in good shape are in for a surprise - the altitude has a way of humbling visitors. Myself included.

I'll give credit to the Coloradans: Despite being incredibly fit and physically capable, they carry a tremendous amount of respect for the elements and how dangerous these beautiful environments can be. Staying on the trail is an extremely good idea, and hiking without ample food and water is downright foolish. It's a good thing I was going with locals, because I was prepared to set off with nothing more than the water in my Camelback.

Let's put this all in perspective: When I went skydiving over Santa Barbara last year, I jumped out of a plane that was cruising at 13,000 ft. That's stunning to me, and probably explains why I had to stop every five to ten minutes to catch my breath once we hit 12,000 ft. Even though it's only a class 1, the hike to Quandary Peak is all uphill, from the first step to the last. As you ascend the terrain changes from covered paths to exposed rock fields, and you go from simply walking up hill to now stepping up and climbing loose rocks. Stair-stepping, if you will.

Spouts of dizziness and a thumping heart forced me to stop and regroup frequently once we hit the final mile - something I simply had to get used to and accept. While initially frustrated, I did begin to appreciate the way taking a seat brought the surroundings to my complete attention. I can't imagine it's an unlikely scenario for one to put their head down and charge up the mountain and allow the workout to drown out the scenery.

Arriving at the top of Quandary Peak was by no means anti-climatic - just take a look at the photos. The sight lines exploded and people were drinking beer, hanging out (my sorry ass stuck with coconut water). It was really the nonchalance that impressed me, that made me shake my head and laugh. You know, climb 14,000 ft, have a beer, climb down. Whatever.

Check out Colorado Fourteeners for more information on Quandary Peak (and others). Here are the photos of our journey to 14,265 feet:

After spending the weekend near Breckenridge and the last few days in Denver (stories to come), I will move over to Boulder tomorrow and check into a cabin at Chautauqua Park.

I begin rock climbing lessons on Friday with the Colorado Mountain School - Eldorado Canyon on Friday, the Flatirons on Saturday - and the experience will be the focus of my story for the Small Newspaper Group in July.

Eldorado Canyon is supposed to be one of the most beautiful parks in the area (according to my local friends), and the flatirons are a symbol of Boulder.

I'll have to save most of my rock climbing thoughts for the feature, but I will talk about it generally and post as many photos as I can of Chautauqua, Eldorado, and Boulder. Right now I'm working on the story of hiking my first fourteener, and tonight I will check out Denver Cruisers, a biking bar crawl to which I am supposed to wear my pajamas.

It's not often you get to return to a place so promptly, but as luck has it the schedule calls for another trip out west to the Mile High City. I will fly out on Friday and spend a few days in Denver before moving over to Boulder later next week.

Last time, I stayed in one of the more interesting rooms in recent memory at a bed and breakfast, hiked the infamous Red Rocks concert venue, and found a pleasant speakeasy to cap off the trip with some cocktails. The outdoors will be the focus this time around, specifically an introduction to rock climbing. I'll cover the trip on the blog, but I'll also be writing a newspaper feature about my climbing experience.

The feature will be routed to five Midwest daily newspapers (all part of Small Newspaper Group) for a combined print circulation of 149,604: The Daily Journal, Kankakee, IL, Moline Dispatch, Moline, IL, Rock Island Argus, Rock Island, IL, Post-Bulletin, Rochester, MN, Ottawa Times, Ottawa, IL.

This will be my first travel piece for a newspaper, and the first time I've freelanced for one since I stepped back from news coverage a little over a year ago.

I'll be staying and climbing near Chautauqua Park. Here's a photo I took on a hike when I made a day trip from Denver back in early April: