Denver

At last there is a break in the mountains. The pickup crests admirably over its last ridge and takes a nosedive along the plunging rock face. The road continues to twist and turn at sharp variances, and the pickup adopts the motions of a downhill skier, negotiating the slalom

The descent is swift. Wheels crunch over rocks just before they’re swept over the ledge of the road, and tumble noiselessly to an unknown fate. A green-gray floodplain stretches up to meet the mountain. It rears up at such an obedient angle that it looks like it will gracefully catch the pickup, just before it would otherwise crash to the ground.

At little further out, the city of Denver rises like a model in miniature. There stand a few stalactite blocks of sandstone amid a mess of similarly colored, but stouter, slabs. The first lights of early evening have switched on in a grid of otherwise darkened squares. Atop one building, standing opposite an aged clock tower, the Old West lettering of a Wells Fargo sign shines bright, lending an orange hue to the streets below.

The pickup is even with the highest rooftops within minutes. On the final, sloping turn into the city, a bottom-lit water tower rises up from the low-lying, brick industrial buildings lining the avenues. It seems to straddle an entire block. It announces, “Denver Cobbling- A Mile High, and a Foot Above the Rest”. Next to it, the neon sign for the “Fool’s Gold Motor Inn”, although towering well over the two story motel, seems diminutive by comparison. The pickup pulls up beside one of the two gas pumps at the motel’s forecourt.

“I’m fillin er up,” the driver explains as he hops out. The hitchhiker follows suit.

“Nah, the ol’ guy’ll do it.” He motions to a sleepy-looking white-bearded man lounging in overalls and cloaked with a wool blanket. He is leaning against the brick wall of the garage with his boots propped up on a barrel. His chair crashed forward when he sees the duo. The hitchhiker can imagine his bones creaking as he staggers to raise himself. He lurches forward, first on one foot, then on the other, as if walking were a new, and dangerous, venture for him.