Tents and Horses

The Denver airport is made of some interesting architecture. There are these white, peaked structures jutting into the sky. The airport also has in internal train, and the musical chimes it plays sound like something you would hear under a big top. Because of this combination I always thought the theme of the airport was “circus.” Which kind of makes sense, right? When you go through an airport you feel like you are in a circus, or a zoo, or a savannah plain. It was only recently that I learned that those white whojiwhatsits are supposed to evoke the snowy Rocky Mountains as well as the teepees of Native people.  

Eventually we walked down the aisle to the front of the plane, off, and into the terminal. A circus train ride and long walk later we were burped out.

When you fly and have a few glitches you think “Oh no, we’re ten minutes late! This is taking forever!” Then you remember what it was like to go by wagon train. (Or, remember reading about it, I should say.) You had to get to the airport on your own. Only there was no airport. No Pizza Hut or Cinnabon. You had to hunt for your pepperoni and sweet buns. It was terrible!

When you were on the wagon train you were far from help. Broken wheel? No AAA, guys, you gotta fix it yourself. Leaky roof? Throw on another buffalo hide. Not sure of the direction? That’s what the stars are for. Yessirree, it really was a time of self-sufficiency and manning up. Now we complain if there is a crying baby on board. Have a heart, people!

The Denver airport is also home to the famous Blue Mustang, or Blucifer. “Colored bright blue, with illuminated glowing red eyes, it is notable both for its striking appearance and for having killed its sculptor, Luis Jimenez, when a section of it fell on him at his studio.” (Wikipedia) 

Not only that, conspiracy theories about the airport abound. Secret societies? Aliens? The apocalypse? Folks, it sure is the wild west out there. 

After leaving the airport you get to hop in a pretty little red train, the RTD, then on into the city. When you get off the train, because it is Colorado, you are pummeled with the thing that Colorado is famous for: snow. Thick flakes in your eyes, crunching under your feet, sliding down your neck. Rocky Mountain High, all right!