Where was I...

Oh yes we were just getting to the part where the who-knows-what-the-hulluva prairie dog is bigger than the thigh of my left leg just off the road with an assortment of other barn-yard oddities when I decided not to stop and go for the border because Colorado was calling me. More than once that day I got to fumbling around with the lyrics to a John Denver song where he sings about a young man finding himself and the meaning of his life in the mountains of the state. As I mulled over the words I realized that I was that character about to see those majestic mountains for the very first time, I am in my 27th year but it was not summer so I didn't fit the song to a "T" but non-the-less there I was.
If a sign heralding the crossing of the ever so important imaginary demarcation did not exist you would never known the difference between the adjoining states, but there it was all wooden and hippy and liberal (just jokin around). Just like Kansas had felt like I was steadily climbing up a hill Eastern Colo. was just the same but maybe a little more so with bigger plateaus (mesas) and steeper valleys. There were some clouds on the horizon that would grow and shrink with every topographical feature and then some of them would stay up when I went down and thats when I realized if was them! the Rocky Mountains posing as clouds (as they are sometimes known to do). From that point on they were my fixation both of eye and spirit as I made my way to the city at their feet; Denver.
I have to break up the story now as it is dinner time and Rob is ordering us Indian Food, it was delicious chick pea curry and chicken curry and rice and nan and samosas and...and ... (I don't know what the names) was delicious, now I am off for a drink or two at a famous bar called The Cat and the Fiddle I read that it is where some scenes from Casablanca were filmed.