Go west, young man
Heading out from Denver
I spent my penultimate day in Colorado exploring the city of Denver.
The last time I visited my relatives in Colorado, five years ago to the day of my current visit, I barely explored the city with my family. Mostly we walked through the 16th Street Mall, but I could barely remember doing that. So, I made it my mission to explore the city much more thoroughly this time around. Like any good millennial, I quickly Googled what to do. About 15 minutes later, I figured I would go to the Denver Art Museum and then walk around the city a bit.
The art museum was incredible. There were only six or seven exhibits, but they were large ones. The most impressive exhibit was the contemporary landscape photography one. The photographs were displayed or altered by the artists in ways I wouldn’t have even thought of. For instance, one photographer took photos of a forest in Hawaii. He then buried those photos in that forest and left them there for months. Hanging in the museum are the buried prints. Another piece that really astounded me was the one adorning the main staircase. There were hundreds of digital displays of single digits that counted either up or down at a pace determined by citizens of Denver. On each landing there were signs explaining each person’s number and why they chose it. Finally, there was an exhibit that displayed art that contained images of animals. The introduction placard simply said that any piece in the museum’s collection related to animals could’ve been included. The wide-ranging exhibit had everything: a short digital film with a singing fish, totem poles, paintings of rich people with dogs, ancient worship sculptures, and a red dinosaur.
Following hours at the museum, I took a short walk over to the history museum. Not knowing how much time I had left to spend before dinner, I decided not to enter the museum. I knew (especially because there was an exhibit devoted to America’s pastime) that I would spend a few hours there. Museums, no matter what kind, transport you to a space without place. After you enter a museum you are no longer in the city which you exited; you are in the museum’s space. That’s why it’s so easy to spend hours inside of them, losing track of time and purpose. It’s also why I enjoy seeing different museums in different places. Often, they remind me of museums near home.
On my way to California, I stopped in two cities and saw two baseball games. Both games were at the Triple-A level, the closest one to the major leagues. Now, you would think that because these players are probably the best ones who aren’t major leaguers that I would enjoy it the most. I did not. Minor leaguers that excite me are the young kids who may not play baseball again. The ones whose stories may never get told except in that very specific small town. Oh, and I also like the big name prospects so I can say I watched them play before they made it big. In Triple-A both types of ballplayers are non-existent. The best prospects have already been promoted and the no-names have been weeded out. The teams are filled with veteran major leaguers who are trying for one last run and a few prospects. The games I went to also didn’t really have the small town baseball vibe I look for in minor league games. Sure, they had the silly promotions between innings, but for some reason, it all seemed a bit more serious. Did I still enjoy myself? Certainly. It just wasn’t the best ballpark experience I’ve had on this trip.
The two games I saw were in Salt Lake City (July 18) and Reno (July 19). The Salt Lake Bees played the Las Vegas 51s and the Reno Aces played the Tacoma Rainiers. Both home teams won, and I am starting to think I am a good luck charm for the teams I visit. I liked the Bees stadium a bit better because of the mountain view. There were constantly mountains on my drive to California, so I appreciated being able to see them throughout the game. Also, they are very picturesque. Reno’s field is located closer to downtown with plenty of parking near the National Bowling Stadium. The facilities were also a bit nicer, and I came the closest to a foul ball this trip. The ball, a liner into the stands, bounced off the hands of the man seated behind me and closer to the plate. You can see pictures of both the parks and my new hats below.
I didn’t do much else during these two days. Just driving and sleeping. I arrived a few hours before I expected in Reno and seriously considered driving straight through to San Francisco. It was around 3 p.m., and the drive was just four additional hours. However, I had already booked and paid for my AirBnB that night, and I realized that would’ve been 11 hours of driving that day. Certainly not an impossible task, but an exhausting one. After my eight hour driving sessions, I normally need to lay down and rest.
My next post will be from San Francisco. I’m sorry this one is so short, but there wasn’t much to report on. Until next time…
