LET'S REDROCK - CO

Denver is where the wild and the grounded coexist. Where I ice-skated in McGregor Square under twinkling lights while Elf played above me, and where I learned I wasn’t half bad at snowboarding—bruises and all. I made a custom hat that felt like it held my edge and grittiness, wandered LoDo after dinner reservations that turned into memories, and hopped between breweries with no agenda other than good laughs and great beer.

I watched sunsets from Red Rocks that made the world stand still. Played cards in a hidden speakeasy called Run For The Roses—ordering drinks with a wink and a winning hand. I took pit stops in Boulder for rooftop drinks at Avanti and first-timer bites at In-N-Out. I had margs at Rio Grande, the kind that hit harder than expected, and quesadillas that hit the soul.

I took a cooking class at Stir, I wandered, I drove aimlessly into the mountains just to feel small again. Colorado is the kind of place that reminds you you’re alive. A dream you wake up from wishing you were still asleep. From Breckenridge to Steamboat Springs, Copper Mountain to Denver—I’ve been a handful of times, and every stop has carved a memory that sticks. There’s something about this state that feels like coming home to somewhere you’ve never lived. It left its mark. And I can’t wait to go back.