Get Out of Denver
This past weekend I traveled to Atlanta to meet up with two of my best friends, Carrie and Melissa. Together, the three of us make up a tribe we call The Stone Jack Ballers. This title, we believe, makes us decisively cooler than you.
We’ve all been friends for years, but only began our travels when the Grateful Dead reunited for their Fare Thee Well shows in 2015 and went on tour as Dead in Co. the following fall. Since then, we’ve journeyed all over the country to see each other and sing our favorite songs. Our travels typically revolve around the band’s tour schedule, and we plan for months to cram as many shows and as many antics into five or six days. We then return home depleted and parched, but full of love and renewal. Then, six to seven months later, we do it all over again.
While in Atlanta, we surprised Carrie with tickets to see moe. for her 40th birthday. The evening was magical and the trip was a great soul reset, and it reminded me of our trip to Colorado this past summer to cross off one of my most anticipated bucket list items: seeing a concert at Red Rocks.
We started making plans to visit the Centennial State approximately seven years in advance. In reality, it was a lot closer to seven months, but when you factor in our logistical precision and lightning fast ability to conduct Google searches, secure concert tickets, book accommodations, review restaurants, and find road maps, it felt like forever between making the initial plan and actually touching down.
In the days before leaving, we texted feverishly about the plans we had made months prior, confirming flight schedules, car pick-ups, and the location of the closest liquor store to our Airbnb. Soon, the conversation turned to the weather in Denver, which was set to reach a record high during our stay. “Our Airbnb has air conditioning, right?”
As it turned out, our Airbnb did not have air conditioning. Our hostess, who was lovely in every way aside from NOT OWNING AN AIR CONDITIONER, politely informed us in a message that “air conditioning was not listed as an amenity in the property description.” An amenity. This bitch.
The day we got in, the temperature was 105. Degrees. Carrie had arrived a few hours prior to Melissa and me and had spent most of that time laying pants-less in front of one of three oscillating fans on the living room floor. “How are you holding up?” I asked when she greeted us at the door. She gave me a look that said, I’m barely holding on and I fear you may never make it home.
“Good!” She lied as she handed me a beer.
That night we hung out on patio furniture in our fenced-in backyard sharing stories, taking selfies, and laughing for hours. We had stopped sweating thanks in part to the fan we plugged in outside, so when it was time for bed I thought for sure I’d be able to fall asleep on the tiny, cloth-covered futon. That, I soon determined, was a lie. Within a half hour of rubbing sweat from my forehead and flailing like a toddler mid-tantrum, I was completely convinced I’d never sleep again. This is it for you, Morgan, I thought. You will soon perish due to heat exhaustion, dehydration, and general fussiness. After yelling out, “I can’t do this!” Carrie soon rescued me and tucked me in safely on the couch with a bigger, better fan pointed at my balmy, disgruntled body. She then positioned her much taller body on the sad excuse for a futon and slept there for the duration of our trip. She’s a really good friend.
Meanwhile, Melissa slept in what was considered the master bedroom, which honestly could have doubled as the gateway to hell. It was so hot I almost died at least four times just walking in to approve outfit changes.
On roughly four hours of sleep, I woke up and showered early the next morning before the heat could wholeheartedly ruin my bangs. We spent the afternoon at Steuben’s and a local Grateful Dead bar, Psychedelic Ripple. Later we made our way to Williams & Graham where we had reservations for drinks. Voted the best bar in the world, it was all at once exclusive and pretentious, which I’m pretty sure is the point. After Carrie and Melissa’s third cigarette break, the staff was pissed and nearly asked us to leave until I started tipping them like I have money, which I do not; I just have a thing about needing strangers to like me. This bought us some time, and we stayed for another hour or so before we met a couple who took us back to the Dead bar where we belonged.
The next day was Red Rocks. I’ve waited my entire life to take in the majesty of that place. The mountain air. The people. The feeling of being so small within a perfectly formed space designed to share the world’s greatest gift: music.
The Dead did not play Red Rocks that trip. They would kick off a two-night set the next day in Boulder, which we had tickets to as well. At Red Rocks, we saw moe. and a band we’d heard very little about called Pigeons Playing Ping Pong.
Pigeons opened the show in the early evening. “And we’ve officially played Red Rocks, y’all!” singer Nick Kroll announced after the set opener. “Let’s keep a good thing going!” We learned sometime during the first set this was the band’s first time playing the venue and that doing so had been on their bucket list, too. Right then, I knew this was the band I was meant to see that night. We were simultaneously crossing off items from our bucket lists and soon we would be swapping recipes and gabbing about the neighbors.
PPPP and moe. were both on fire. The night was gorgeous, the people were happy, and the breeze was cool. The SJBs spent the evening the way we spend most nights together: laughing, dancing, and searching for a restroom. On one trip up the never-ending staircase, we heard moe. play Saint Stephen. On another, we ran into a woman who excitedly told us she had just gotten engaged at set break. These small miracles and the memory of it all really put Red Rocks and the entire trip into perspective. While yes, there was no air conditioning and yes, the one-ply toilet paper at our Airbnb and every venue we visited was painful on more levels than I’m willing to write about, I got to experience it all with my best girls in a part of the country I had never before visited.
