June 9-11 – We can barely count Denver in this trip because we essentially got in late afternoon after a 6-hour drive, checked in to our Airbnb, shopped a little, including popping in to one of the numerous legal cannabis stores to see what they were all about, had dinner and drinks and crashed.

We did manage to get locked out of our Airbnb because Kirsti repeatedly punched in the wrong code, but a quick call to the host fixed it and we were back inside.

The Airbnb was a basement apartment and others were renting the upstairs so it was a little loud with footsteps at times, but it was clean and spacious and all we needed for a night. It also had an interesting note above the toilet urging people not to flush their leftover weed down the toilets. Apparently, that’s a thing tourists in Colorado do because they can’t fly home with it.

The sign was titled “420 & Potty Talk” and went on to say how they understand the need to “dispose of the leftovers,” but that they “assure you it is okay to throw it into the garbage.”

I’ve been to Denver a few times and love it, but we simply didn’t see enough of it this time to devote much space to. Kirsti did, however, snap a neat picture of me as we sat on a second-floor deck of a restaurant pub enjoying a drink and a snack.

 Breckenridge, on the other hand, was a great stop, another needed two-night stay at the home of Greg “Dinger” King, one of my best friends dating back to high school and college. The fact that he was away selling skiing outerwear in Salt Lake City and we were staying at his house felt a little odd, but his wife, Jacqui, graciously welcomed us.

Breckenridge, I think, was a nice recharging station for us, and it’s memorable for a handful of reasons. For Kirsti, it was the final gig and the pressure of the “Dust Tour” would be over after the Tuesday patio show. But what a way to end it, on a patio in the Rocky Mountains with dogs and kids and laid back folks who reallyliked what she was doing.

It was such a contrast to the prior gigs. So chill.

One woman, a friend of a friend from back home who was interested in our trip and Kirsti’s singing, drove a few hours to be there.

When the gig was over, the owners of The Crown, like the owners of the pub in Dallas, asked her if she wanted to play again soon, not realizing we were leaving the next day. That made her feel great.

What also made Breckenridge a great stop was meeting guitar maker Bevan Frost of Big Hollow Guitars in nearby Frisco. Because we were planning to sell the van in California, we didn’t bring Kirsti’s PA system and the Colorado gig was the only one that didn’t supply a sound system. So, I was randomly calling around to places that might have equipment and found Frost.

Very manager-like, right?

He said he did have a system that we could rent, and when I suggested paying $75 or $100, he came back with, “how about $50,” which speaks volumes about the type of guy he is.

He liked our story and when I went to return the equipment, he was eager to show me a guitar he was building.

We were kind of in a hurry to get to Salt Lake City to see Dinger, and I felt a little guilty about seeming anxious to leave his upstairs workshop, but we were eight hours away and needed to make time. But like I mentioned before, Frost was another great example of how most people are genuinely nice. He didn’t have to help us and surely could have charged me whatever, because I wasn’t sure I had a back-up plan. Instead, he charged me less than I suggested, welcomed me into his workspace and was just such an interesting warm character.

When I reached out to him in July of 2020, a year after we met and when I was starting on this project, I sent him a video of her playing locally, a Simon & Garfunkel tune called “April Come She Will.”

His response: “Hi David, Thanks! I started with Simon and Garfunkel too. Great stuff. You must be a proud papa, now it’s time to let her fly! I’m parenting full-time now and guitar work is on hold until the virus recedes.”

Breckenridge also provided me a chance to do something I’ve wanted to do since “Gold Rush” aired on TV: pan for gold. Judge me if you will, but I LOVE “Gold Rush.” I also love “Bering Sea Gold,” “Dave Tourin’s Lost Mines” and I’ll love any other gold-chasing show that comes along. So, to be sitting on the edge of a stream at Country Boy Mine with a riffle-less metal gold pan like the old-timers would have used, seeking a flake of that magical metal, I was in heaven.

Kirsti indulged me with a smile.

I got a couple flakes too, according to the staffer who checked my pan. Sadly, they were out of droppers to suck it from the pan and put it into a vial, so my mini-flake of gold went back into the stream for the next guy.

With hard hats on, we also took the tour deep inside the mountain mine shaft. Water from snow run-off seeped into the tunnel like rain as we walked several hundred feet deep into core of the mountain. The tour was great, and very eye-opening about the lengths men go for gold, but my high point at the mine was panning away like they did over a century ago.

Breckenridge also provided me a chance to get closer with Jacqui. Greg met her out there, so our interactions over the years have been few. And before we arrived, for weeks she and Greg had been hosting friends who were in the process of renovating an Airstream trailer that they planned to call home. So, they had already been opening up their home to others – and here we come. She probably would have gladly enjoyed some peace with the two dogs, Jasper and Lulu.

Instead, the other couple headed out to stay with other friends for a couple days to allow us in. It was a Monday and Tuesday when we were there, and she had to work, but after work on Monday I treated her to a nice dinner at South Ridge Seafood, a local favorite of hers, and we stopped for some crazy, cast-iron pan-cooked chocolate chip cookies at Myla Rose Saloon on the way home.

While Jacqui was working, Kirsti and I also visited the Mt. Princeton Hot Springs for some back relief – and it worked. I had been there before with Dinger and friends, but it was a nice treat for the two of us to soak our road-weary bones.

I would have loved if Dinger could have been there to see Kirsti play and tour us around, but I’ll be forever grateful for Jacqui’s hospitality, spending time with their dogs and soaking up the gorgeous mountain backdrop of the Rockies. I have been out there a few times, but this time – with just Kirsti and me – seemed extra special.