Red Rocks AmphitheatreMorrison, CO

by Ray Paczkowski

Lost a crew bus on the way to Denver– two flat tires and a dead transmission. Had it towed to Salt Lake and we won’t meet up with it until Chicago. So all of the crew is on one bus, a music industry version of Survivor, limping out of Vegas. Imagine, Carini kills and eats Jimi Stout, but alas, is ground up and brewed by Brian after the coffee runs out. So it goes. Watching a day off evaporate, stranded on the side of the road.

Where we all got to, finally, is an astounding place. Red Rocks. Someone had the idea sixty or seventy years ago to carve some seats into the natural amphitheatre here. It was a WPA project during the depression, and went through a couple renovations over the ensuing years. The geologic formation has been here for millenia, it’ll be here long after Vegas crumbles into the desert (no hard feelings.)

Walk up to the rim of the seating area and you will feel the power of the place set your arms ande legs to tingling. Well, actually it’s your body starving for oxygen. Over a mile above sea level, you can look out over Denver and the foothills of the Rockies. Not monday night, though. Hail, rain, and tornadoes were forecast, and the wind picked up steadily all night. By the end of the second set the house was soaked, and the horn section looked like lapsed bedouins, towels over heads, not a camel in sight. Hard not to think of the wonderfully conductive qualities of water getting together with our hard working friend 220 volt 3 phase AC. Light show.

The second night was a Colorado big sky evening. These rocks feel grounded to the center of the earth, and looking out at the stars, it’s apparent we are a-spinnin’ on a tiny stone. All okay for a moment.