A (slightly obnoxious) book I found in our Denver hostel (Vagabonding by Rolf Potts) contained a quote urging you to ‘keep your best travel stories to yourself.’ In that same condescending spirit, I won’t elaborate on how good it was to see my old friend, Tyler, in Denver or how gracious our cousin, Christina, was to have us over to dinner while we were in the area. Her husband, Michael, makes a mean grilled chicken and apple pesto though.
We made good time for a while after leaving Logan, Utah until a flock of sheep appeared in the roadway. After a few erratic sheepdogs herded them past us, we rocketed through Wyoming. It’s a shame that we stopped at the Welcome Center only as we left the state since a mammoth skeleton and other elaborate displays exposed Wyoming as potentially a fun place to linger. As for Denver itself, the National Ballpark Museum is a lot of fun for baseball fans with architectural components of old ballparks (such as turnstiles and seats) in addition to memorabilia like uniforms and pennants. John was pleased to note as we were leaving that the docent on duty was ‘an encyclopedia of baseball.’