Dinosaur ridge is a short trail, which runs along the mountains parallel to Red Rocks. As one ascends the road towards the lookout point, the jagged red rocks bulge out in the distance. The road than curves around a bend, providing an open view of the Denver suburbs: stretches of highway carved out and territories of identical-looking neighborhoods. There’s copious contrast between which way one looks. Last year, I imagined Denver as an enchanting city nestled in the mountains. Although still picturesque, it is apparent that the city is keeping stride with the rest of the country.
On my return back to my friend Matt’s house, I proceeded pass strip malls, fast-food chains, and property under construction. The city is by no means glamorous, but the mountains in the backdrop are breathtaking. For the most part, the people of Denver are friendly and laid-back. With that, it seems the closer one gets to the west coast, the more easygoing the residents are: there’s a noticeable difference between Philadelphia and Denver, but also a disparity between Denver and San Francisco.
Previously, I possessed blind aspirations of moving to Colorado, because of the music scene and outdoor activities. And frankly, before these past few months, I never thought of San Francisco as a plausible option. Nevertheless, I’m stopping through Colorado, but pushing onward to the west coast. Plans change and keep changing.