Red Rocks, Mo’Rain

Last weekend, I left warm and dry San Diego to visit my husband in Denver. Not the best weather trade considering that Denver and nearby areas were experiencing nasty flooding problems. But my husband had bought us tickets to see The Lumineers at Red Rocks, and despite the weather, the show went on. (The band offered refunds for anyone stranded by the flooding which I thought was nice.)

Red Rocks is an outdoor rock amphitheater just west of Denver, quite close to Morrison, Colorado. We stopped in Morrison for dinner at the Red Rock Grill and ate some mediocre Mexican food. The memorable thing about the restaurant wasn’t the food; it was the décor.  Some taxidermist was doing very well because wherever you looked, you’d see a dead animal like the one below. (More on this later.)Thank goodness our daughter, the pescatarian, wasn’t with us.

Hey you, what ya eating?

Hey you, what ya eating?



The setting for Red Rocks is stunning.  You are surrounded by rock formations with endless views. Although we had rain jackets, umbrellas, trash bags, and closed-toe shoes (may be the first time I’ve worn socks this year), none of that was needed. Some say Red Rocks is a sacred place used by the Ute tribe. I agree that it is blessed because after a few clouds blew away, we saw the moon and stars and it was magnificent.

Red Rocks

Red Rocks



The warm up bands started at 6:30 p.m. There were three:  Paper Bird, Family of the Year, and Langhorne Slim. Honestly, every one of them was great. The Lumineers came on stage about 10:00 p.m. — long time to wait for the main event.

So during the warm up bands and the breaks, we got to know our neighbors. In particular, we got to know Maureen and her friend, Blanche. Mo’Rain (my new nickname for her) and Blanche met when they were teachers back in the day. As my newest BFF, Mo’Rain took a great interest in my writing career. She encouraged me to acknowledge or put it out there or tell the spirits of the Red Rocks that my book would be a success. I think she wanted me to shout the words out; I did it silently.

I was the designated driver that night and not drinking. Mo’Rain felt bad for me. Many folks around us were enjoying Colorado’s pot-friendly laws. So whenever some smoke drifted our way, Mo’Rain would turn to me and say “Breathe deeply, Val Agnew, breathe deeply.”  Each time she said that I laughed deeply. Mo’Rain imitated my laugh on her first try and had Marc and me in hysterics. By the end of the night, she added her own signature pig snort to it.

So, back to The Lumineers. They are a great folk rock band loaded with talent. I love the gal, Neyla Pekarek, who sings and plays the cello. They played all their hits, some new songs, and had us all singing and dancing along with them.  By the second encore, we were tired. We heard them singing all the way out to the car, and it was close to 11:30 p.m.

Living in San Diego, you forget what rain sounds like. On Sunday, the rain in Denver continued and sloshed on the windows. The sound was peaceful and soothing, and I wanted to take a nap. Instead, the Chargers decided to have a thriller of a game and the nap didn’t happen.

On Monday, when I woke up in San Diego, I missed the sound of the rain. It was replaced with the noise of the construction site in our neighborhood; the one that still has another year to go. The rat a tat tats of the rock breaking machine.  The endless chug chug of tractors moving across the dirt and the eep eep sound when they back up. Today, I heard a new noise, the earthquake shaking impact of slamming metal plates.

Back to ‘More on this later.’  Sometimes I am too curious which translates better to I should just keep my mouth shut. While waiting to take the shuttle car to the offsite parking lot on Sunday, several men joined me. They all carried rather long black rectangular cases. The Lumineers were still on my mind, and I thought the cases held musical instruments. But of course they didn’t, they held guns. Since I asked, I had to keep going and be all cool, so I said “What did you hunt?” hoping for partridge or the like. With glee and blood dripping from their teeth (okay, I made that up), they told me they killed some type of deer and the meat was coming home the next day all packaged and ready for the freezer. Oh good Lord.

This is the kind of deer I like. The kind my husband and I saw resting in the park while on our morning walk.

Deer Resting in a Denver Park

Deer Resting in a Denver Park