Just to put it out there: I consumed about 1/4 of a THC-infused brownie ten minutes ago. Honestly, I don't feel much, so I'm going to let it settle a bit more, then see how I feel. I can't even remember the last time I smoked, and I didn't really want to smoke this time. For one, I can't roll to save my life. I've never been able to roll, probably because I've never really smoked pot much. I don't have a pipe, and those can cost quite a bit new (and who wants a used pipe). And, anyway, even if I did have something in which to smoke it, I don't have place where I can smoke it. Smoking of any kind is banned in my hotel room, and, from what I understand, most hotels that allowed smoking have added policies banning the smoking of marijuana. You can't smoke it in public, per state law, and smoking in your car would likely lead to a DUI (I don't know the law here, but, in some states, you can get charged even if you're just sitting in your car). So I'm left with the handy "edible."
Funny things about this brave new world of legalization. Dispensaries are quite common, but they're not everywhere. The neighborhood where I'm staying, by Denver's former Stapleton Airport, a dividing line of upscale New Urbanist-inspired mixed-use developments and a low-density, majority African American neighborhood, has none. I had to drive about 4 miles, to East Colfax Avenue. The first place I found was called Frosted Leaf. I checked out their web site in advance, and it looked quite good: extensive selection of edibles with good prices. When I got there though, a sign on the door clearly states "Medical Marijuana License Required for Entry."
It turns out that, if you're a stupid tourist like me, you have to go to a dispensary that's licensed to sell recreational marijuana, a license doled out by the City of Denver to (at press time) only 47 establishments in the city limits. That may sound like a lot, but Denver's a pretty large city, both geographically and demographically, and it's easy to spread those 47 out, especially since most seem to be in the Downtown area.
Luckily, a recreational-licensed facility was just down the street: Gaia. When you walk in, you first see the signs: no one under 21, no consumption on premises, and no photography. You see a booth behind protective glass and a door with a security code. The person in the booth asks for your ID, then buzzes you in, telling you to take a seat and someone will be with you shortly. The seating area looks just like that of a doctor's office, complete with magazines (though these were all cannabis-related) and fake plats. The room next to it is where the business happens, and only one party (they apparently do groups, because two girls went in together before me) is allowed in at a time. When your name is called, you go into the room, where little jars of buds sit, labelled with white cards. The edibles were on the right side, in a glass display case. The selection was not as good as what I had seen online with the other place, and they were out of my first choice, a chocolate, but the brownie sounded good too.
They take credit cards and, a $24 swipe later, my brownie was put into what looks like a larger white pill bottle, then into a small paper bag, and stapled with the receipt.
It's obviously a pot brownie. I mean, they have a technique of sort of boiling it to remove the THC and add it to the butter, but it still smells and tastes like marijuana. But not that bad. If I didn't know, I would ask "What's that funny taste?" and say "This kinda smells like pot" and probably not eat it again by choice, if it did not, in fact, have any THC.
All I could think about on the drive in, through the small towns of the Plains in Northeast Colorado, was that I probably looked like I was a weed tourist. My big beard, flip-flops, and scraggly hair tucked haphazardly under a UA hat. I mean, I'm obviously not a rep from a fertilizer company. I can't imagine that the people in these small towns, with no dispensaries, enjoy the change in the Colorado law. There's been a movement in this region for many years to split off from the rest of the state, since the mostly agricultural and rural Plains has very little in common with the mining- and tourist-driven western two-thirds.
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| Holyoke |
Holyoke is the county seat and largest town. The downtown area was quite bustling that morning.
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| View of the Platte Valley and Sterling from US 6 |
The first thing you notice there are the signs: "Restrooms for customers only;" "No running;" "Children must be accompanied by an adult;" etc. Not a way to set up a fun place. The guy was loud, kept trying to sell me more stuff, and had a lot of questions. There was only one other guy in there who was supposedly working on the lights, but mostly sat around, getting up once to almost destroy the place with a long ladder. I paid $9 for a sub that was on Safeway bread, and made with frozen meatballs. Normally I like to support these sort of small town places, but I took a picture of the sign, because I knew that this would not be open if and when I ever come back to Brush.
Brush is where US 6 and US 34 reunite, at least historically. When US 6 encounters I-76 just east of Brush, it actually gets on to I-76 and never intersects US 34, which is coming in from the south. Instead, the road that continues from I-76 southwest to meet US 34 is signed "Spur 34," and only US 34 continues through both Brush and Fort Morgan.
I did finally find a Burger King in Fort Morgan. I sat there for a couple of hours finally finishing the blog post and doing research. Fort Morgan is a larger town and the seat of Morgan County. There's a Safeway, the first one you encounter on US 6, and a small downtown area. The theater there was the first theater I had seen in a couple of days that was not playing "God's Not Dead," apparently a very popular movie in the Plains region.
West of Fort Morgan, US 34 reaches I-76 and US 6 officially. This ends the I-76 Business Loop that's been on the old route the whole time through Brush and Fort Morgan. Strangely, signs indicate that you can either continue straight or go left to stay on US 34.
US 34 leaves I-76 and US 6 for the last time, going to Greeley. Between the two exits for US 34, there is a frontage road on the north side of the expressway that could be the original roadway, though it was so far from the railroad tracks that I doubted it.
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| Painter R. meeting old US 6 in Wiggins |
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| Asphalted section of old US 6 |
The map here shows the town of Tampa, but there really isn't a town. Instead, there's a brand new rail crude oil terminal. Crude oil hasn't been shipped by rail in the area for many years, instead relying on pipelines. However, the demand is apparently now too large for the pipelines, and this terminal was built to link up with a pipeline coming from California.
Past the rail terminal, the road is new and asphalted. Between it and the railroad tracks, there's what looks like an older roadbed. It was hard to tell. I found chunks of asphalt along it, but it was also the bed of a buried pipeline, so I couldn't really be sure, though the road did shift to be closer to the tracks farther down.
After a power plant, you reach Keenesburg, which is a slightly larger town where the area's high school sits. In Keenesburg, the local street signs still say "US 6," and the original route continues west out of the small town.
It's only when you reach the gas stop town of Hudson that the road ends, and you must rejoin I-76.
The original US 6 leaves at the State Route 2 interchange. In 1950, this was where US 6 met with State Route 70, which continued north to Brighton as Route 2 now does, though it was solely US 6 to the south of here. This area is a popular area for new homes, and the tract housing developments lined the route up to where the east side of the road enters Rocky Mountain National Wildlife Refuge. As you enter Commerce City, the neighborhood becomes mostly Latino and partially industrial, with a number of run-down but still open motor court motels along the route.
In Commerce City, the old US 6 merged here with US 85 and, today, the current US 6. This is Vasquez Boulevard, around since at least 1950. A few blocks later, State Route 2 separates to go south, this the path of the former State Route 83. As you reach the Interstate 70 interchange though, US 6 and Vasquez Boulevard veer to the right, toward 46th Avenue. 46th Avenue runs below I-70 on a lower deck. As you're traveling along I-70 above, you would probably never even notice this. I didn't know it existed until I started researching it, even though I've driven that part of I-70 several times.
46th Avenue intersects a few streets, then curves to the north to go around I-70 ramps and intersect Brighton Boulevard, ending the lower deck. Here, US 6 turned left to go south on Brighton Boulevard toward Downtown Denver. Now though, US 6 is routed back onto I-70, then south on I-25 to the 6th Avenue Freeway just south of Downtown. I turned around here, and headed back to the hotel.
I like the Stapleton area because it has cheap hotels, a lot of shopping with some decent restaurants, and is still relatively close to Downtown Denver. Stapleton was the name of Denver's former airport, which was closed in 1995 when the new airport, northeast of the city, opened. Stapleton was completely redeveloped as a mixed-use development, with only a few of the original airport buildings being reused. One of them is the control tower. Though it still sits vacant, just as a symbol of the area's history, there has been recent planning to reuse the former airport office portion of the lower floors as offices for the community development association.
Edibles evidently take a bit longer to take effect. I was pretty annihilated by 9 or 9:30. My picking at the brownie because nothing was happening resulted in a pretty intense experience, that lasted well into my sleep. It was a lot like having fever dreams, but they were much more colorful and there were no nightmares.
Pot tends to make me paranoid, though I've smoked some before that had very little paranoia. This was very little paranoia, though anxieties creep up still, and I realized I had missed the deadline to pay my Illinois Tollway violation from over a week ago.
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