The Crossroads

One mile above the surface of the sea and thousands from either ocean, I extendeded my kickstand in the capital of Colorado but more significantly to me, at the cusp of the next threshold of this American odyssey. Funds are nearly diminished, now approaching two months past my initially intended week's ride, Chance is soon due for a wrenching, and the both of us are being sorely missed at the stables back home. If I turned for a northwest heading now we should make it back just fine. If we carried on in the opposite direction, however, your traveling writer and his two-wheeled friend will be at the mercy of whatever fortune or folly may await us at every mile. All melodramatics aside, this may well be the point of no return and this would be the third time I'd look up and down the road to seriously consider the journey's end. This time, though, I'd give whim a break and think things through and through.

An old coworker had recently moved here to Denver to raise his new and budding family of whom were thrilled to host me for a spell. I hadn't planted my feet in so large a city since I left San Fancisco so our arrival was a little late due to one way streets and interstate freeway traffic. Nevertheless, the downtown apartment with a view of the capitol building opened its doors with open arms - after banging out the secret knock, of course.

Zia, my friend Faisal's first child was first to greet me! To my surprise, the little Monster, as her mother, Kelsey likes to call her, remembered me even with my rough disposition! The last time I saw her was last September while Faisal and I were in Los Angeles for some work training and wedding crashing on the side. Like her playful father, her mischievous and mechanically-inclined nature kept her digging through my saddlebags and fiddling around with all my supplies and tools. I was mindful enough to have my buddy stow my firearm then get settled in right at home to break bread.

This was a nice change of pace from the open road, deserts and mountains, solo adventuring, rowdy bonfires and pub crawls and everything in between. A little quality family time to temper a man being molded by the wild so to speak.

I had worked alongside the Al Shememrys back when I turned planes out on the SeaTac Airport ramp. Then, Kelsey and Faisal were just dating. When that regional carrier started to sink, not so much in business but in integrity, I got him a job with Virgin where we became partners in crime, terrorizing the terminal as musical super heroes, gate game show hosts, company pranksters and life long friends. As we caught up that night, Kelsey kept stressing how we had to have been separated at birth. The two of us are avid martial artists, obsess over worst-case scenarios and survival situations, wanted to work for the FBI and CIA respectively, consume the same protein powder and even mix it in the very same mixer. The only difference now was a motorcycle for he had sold his when Zia came along.

He is only a couple years younger than me but already settling into his adult life as a family man, especially with another baby on the way. This was the life I knew was looming on horizon for me so it could be considered a huge underlying cause for this impromptu road trip. As many of the older folks I've come across have commented, I'm doing this for myself now before it is too late. But I've got to say, for my doppelgänger, he didn't strike me as very different at all. If anything, he was as childish as ever, forcing me to stay up to watch kungfu films and play video games with him all night. During the course of my stay, he'd unintentionally prove to me that there is life for us after marriage, children, and motorcycles, though I'm in no rush to accept it!

Oh yes, and look what made its way back to me! Thanks to a mysterious good samaritan who happened across it on the roads of Bryce Canyon, Utah, it was kindly sent to Faisal's for me to pick up, declining any reward. It's more of a boomerang than a phone.

The sound of roosters heralding the sun were absent in the city but I was woken up mighty early by none other than Monster!

Daddy "Face" had to take her to gymnastics! Mommy needed to go in for a check up as well as some peace and quiet to work on her homework.

It was a little awkward to walk in there with him. I opted to stay off the mat as not give the other adults there the wrong idea about my buddy and I as we were the only men in the entire building. Then again, maybe I looked way too rough around the edges and neglecting in any fashion sense to give them that impression as Face mentioned a couple of the mothers were looking me up and down.

Watching Zia reminded me a lot of myself in my knee-high years; not a fan of playing with other kids and just fine entertaining myself, thank you very much. I wonder how she'll turn out in 25 years.

We took her back to Casa Alshememry and with his part of day's work knocked out, it was time for the boys to go out and play.

The dynamic duo struck out for Red Rocks Park and amphitheater after swinging by one of our favorite big boy's stores, Outdoor World. Apparently this place had a massive outdoor performance theater cut right into the rock and Face thought if I had to see anything in Denver it had to be that.

In the parking lot I noticed another bike geared up for the long haul. Hey, he has the same Bear Grylls knife I've got! Strange place to keep it, though.

The lot seemed unusually busy to Face and feared that there was an event going on. Up the stairs we went to find out!

And back down we were sent. Well, I wasn't about to let the visit end right there. Before we got to the bottom of the staircase, Face tested the waters of my mischievousness by jokingly saying we should try climbing up the rock face to get in. He should have known me better; it might as well had been a dare.

Our plans were thwarted by a white van with a yelling man. I cupped my ear to try and make out his rude and inadequate introduction. I motioned that I would meet him on the other side. When we did, the yellow-vested man who inarguably must have had a difficult high school social life simply barked that it was a $1000 fine then radioed some nonsense and turned right around to walk away. Faisal hung back and was just about to run while I took offense and started chasing the fellow down. Excuse me? Sir? Pardon me, sir, I kept courteously trying to get his attention. It took some time before he could no longer ignore me and once he presented his face I politely yet sternly asked where we could find some suitable hiking trails and apologized for the climbing misunderstanding. Flustered, he just pointed towards the visitor center and tried to continue a lecture that was cut off by a curt yet sincere thank you from yours truly.

He just had to say what he needed to say nicely, especially since we did not know better. And now we knew, now we were going to break the law and if we're caught, I, for one will accept the consequences. Scolding only leads to bolstered trouble making. Back onto the rocks we went.

They're rocks. If preservation is the idea behind the fine (which a sign later indicated to be $999) then they must be bonkers. If its safety, like all other parks in the nation, that's my responsibility, not yours. Thankfully my friend was just as rebellious as myself, resolving that they'd have to catch him first. I'd still pay the fine but run with him for the fun of it.

We found ourselves a canyon path that kept us out of view of the road. Sometimes I couldn't resist getting a view!

Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, right 'ere!

The higher we got the more vigilant we had to be about the event staff patrolling the area.

Climbing in that heat and altitude was exhausting but we kept eachother's spirits up with whispered banter peppered with muffled jokes.

We hushed mid-chat simultaneously when we heard people below us. Peering over the cliff edge we saw a party of people legitimately hiking the set trail. I grinned and Face proposed what we were both thinking.

Ah, if his wife was here she'd disown him. Us pair of dorkasaurus rexes would spend nearly an hour running around that rock top pranking on unsuspecting hikers.

I really ought to get that fixed.

At some point in that juvenile game came a family who was too stubborn to keep hiking on. Instead, they kept lingering around trying to locate the source of the animal sounds. A good while would pass before the both of us actually wanted to get down but not without our dignity so like a couple of idiots we waited up there trying to find another way off which happened to be blocked by another infamous white van.

Finally, the coast was clear and we got off our self-manifested Alcatraz.

Just as we're following the trail back to the car there appeared a group of people ahead of us wearing familiar colors. Oh, great, the family we just terrorized. The embarrassment between the two of us was almost unbearable so I noticed a divergence and ducked off the path.

Unfortunately it only lead to a broken old tire swing and, up another path to a controlled parking lot full of "yellows." I swallowed my pride, took point and got back on the trail. As we walked passed the family, Face and I improvised how nice the hike was and how it would have been nicer had we only got here sooner. Naturally, our charade was given away when we reached the trailhead only to find an obscure natural staircase of rocks that we jumped on exploring. The tone in which the mother yelled at her son not to follow us sounded as if it had less-than-immediate implications.

The path lead to what I could only describe as a cool rock fort. I imagined teens would come here to get away from the crowds in the amphitheater and to still be able to hear the music while likely partaking in illegal activities. We were naturally honoring that tradition by simply climbing on the $999 rocks.

Still kept a look out!

Though the path ended there, as was the cadence of the day, others, though more obscure, seemed to open up before us as we climbed further and higher. This was probably one of the highest points of this red rock in the park!

Before calling it good Faisal would climb a tree to officially conquer the rocks. I can see where Monster gets the monkey skills from.

Strangely, once we planted our feet back on the ground we were suddenly exhausted and the heat of the day seemed to catch up all at once. Nevertheless, it was a fun place to let the little boys in us out to run amok.

Later that day we'd take Zia to her own playground. Honestly, I did want to jump in there but the other parents might not appreciate a bearded fellow climbing around and taking pictures.

The day ended just like the after-credits following the recent Avengers movie: we went out for shawarma where my beard and camera fit in just fine.

And just when I thought the antics of the day were over...

 

As bugeyed as Kelsey was she enjoyed the hurricane of childhoods that was Zia, Face and myself.

Another early morning later thanks to the baby rooster! I figure I'd hit the road today but I honestly still didn't know where I'd be heading yet so I took up the offer to delay my departure with a stroll downtown.

Downtown Denver was reminiscent of the commercial centers in Las Vegas but with a street more charming than the Strip. Old painted pianos lined the center free for anyone to fill the city with its untuned yet appreciated melodies. That put a smile on my face. Then I walked by these guys and had to put a dollar in for karma's sake. I cannot recall whether their music was actually good but they get kudos for their poster sporting the Most Interesting Man in the World.

Were those super heroes who just walked by? Face said characters were a common sight around here. "Look who's talking," Kelsey commented then went on to say that there was a gay festival in town and she and Zia were looking forward to it. I feigned interest out of missing the vivacious atmosphere back in San Francisco - not to mention a self esteem boost couldn't hurt. What can I say? I just love attention no matter who it's coming from.

The park was bustling with rainbow banners and people equally colorful. Either I was oblivious as ever but there was no flattery to be received, although Face whispered that some of the lesbians were giving me looks. Ever the jester, though, I've learned to take virtually everything he says as a jest. The food was good, although expensive and a bit of an awkward place to be eating not one but two huge hot dogs of all foods offered. I love dogs! It was also nice to see the baby enjoying the festive atmosphere. Kelsey said that normally Zia is a germaphobe and usually unsociable with the general public but here she was dancing barefoot in the grass for all to see.

Both parents were surprised at how much the little gal liked me. Even Kelsey's relatives have trouble getting Zia to warm up to them but with me, she seems like a whole different Monster! Just the other day at the shawarma restaurant, she wanted me to pick her up which, I am told, is unheard of. Kelsey asked if I am around kids much and I thought long and hard on that. In actuality, I hadn't really even interacted with anyone as tall as my shin since six years ago. They really liked me too. My only deduction was that I was nothing more than a kid myself.

I started packing back at the Bat Cave. The daylight was more than halfway spent, unfortunately, and Zia's 'rents mentioned a thunderstorm in the evening. I took the hint that they wanted me to stay and I'm sure if the baby could say something that wasn't gibberish, she'd explicitly say so. Seeing as how I'd be hitting the road just for the sake of being on it, I surrendered to myself that I ought to spend another day and think my plans over.

After an afternoon of watching Rambo and Top Gun, the men of the house left - one, off to a job to support his family while myself, to a coffee shop to find some direction.

There I would order the bottomless house coffee and go through half a dozen cups and as many bathroom breaks while I charted away and ran countless scenarios and extrapolated plans. All logical conclusions pointed to one thing: it's time to go home. Before I settled on that bittersweet reality, the owner of the shop swung by to give me a heads up that he was closing up for the night.

Either for tips or out sheer curiosity, the middle aged man poked and prodded at the nature of my Keroacian quest at every new cup of coffee I fetched. Somehow one of the refills lead to a conversation about the both of us being baritones and how his singing promised to take him places. His fondly nostalgic tone which danced on the traces of a natural vibrato switched to a somber one as he recanted the removal of his tonsils and subsequently getting swept up with marriage, children, and settling in Denver. Later, when I made for the door as the gentleman turned off the last of the lights, he asked that I put a good word for him in the supposed book I'm writing. For two bucks, unlimited coffee at The Desk was a hell of a deal.

Instead of going straight back to the apartment, I walked around the streets for a while. The festival from earlier still seemed to be in full swing as interestingly-clad groups of people stumbled in and out of bars. One likely inebriated young lady bumped into me at a corner then grinned, commenting on my looks and inquiring rhetorically into my well-being -- "how ya doing, handsome," in other words. The invitation to join her and her friends in a night of dancing and drinking was simply declined with a stoic, though polite "Ma'am," and a nod in passing. I was still very much in contemplation. My stomach would be next to interrupt.

Nestled in a shadier street running adjacent to the Capital Building was a surprisingly legit Japanese restaurant. I figured whichever way I go tomorrow, I probably wouldn't be seeing any exotic foods for a while so I permitted my palate a personal mardi gras. While enjoying a scrumptious shrimp tentoji don I couldn't help but notice many lingering eyes on me.

Did I seem so different in a city so full of characters? One woman seemed transfixed on me, seemingly ignoring her chatty friend in front of her and without shame to avert her gaze when I met it. Instead of a nervous smile or awkward wave, I stared right back but not at her, no, rather at myself. Call me egocentric but I barely remember what the lass looked like for I was trying to see what she was seeing. What made me not in tune with the rhythm of the night, the city, and the invisible cogs and gears that run this society? Had I been on the road so long that the beat of my own drum cacaphonously singled me out amidst the orchestra of the 9 to 5ers? Even in this night of festivities promoting the release of inhibitions, celebrating the individual, and gallivanting in ridiculous costumes up and down the same streets where suits dragged their feet in daylight, I still manage to garner attention? Did my own costume give me away that night? The hole in my boot, the rust on the buckles of my satchel, the tanned hide that was my skin, the book in my lap... Perhaps I read too much into nothing more than a flirtatious glance but in my eyes I saw that I had become someone outside of the monotonous cycle of work and play that many individuals all along my path had looked upon with restrained envy. It would be a crime to return to the pace surrounding me so soon. It's as though through this journey and through this journal, I'm the standard bearer for a moment in time in which I'm living people's dreams be it life-long, day, American, or what have you. We must all get one chance and I ought to see this one as far as it will take me before I become the owner of a coffee shop, a family man, a waitress, a homeless Navajo, a terminally ill ticketer, an old stargazer, a gambler, a limo driver, a bicyclist, members of a motorcycle club, a motel owner, a bike rally coordinator, a road tripping family, a Mormon hipster, a retired motorcycle cop, a maintenance guy, a restaurant owner and anyone between here and home who wished they could share this saddle.

On the way back to the apartment I patiently waited at a crosswalk which happened to be next to a bookstore.

I confess never finishing Jack's adventures. Reckon I got too busy riding and writing my own.

Morning came and started out just like any other morning. We all enjoyed a homemade breakfast and watched the Avengers cartoon.

After a few episodes I asked Faisal if he could take me to the hardware store to pick up some things. Upon returning, we went straight to work.

Both my boot and shifting lever got their temporary fixes and I was ready to get back on the road. For once Zia was shy to say goodbye but I'm sure she threw a fit when she realized I wasn't coming back at least anytime soon. Kelsey expressed her joy of having me over and for being such a great playmate for her Monster. She jokingly asked when I would be married and I replied, "That time will come - just not now!"

Faisal saw me off in the parking garage. Like brothers we gave eachother a hearty handshake and hug. As I fired up the engine he finally asked,

"So Bonne, where are you going now?"

To which I replied, "I'll tell you when I get there!"