Contributed by:
Brendan Leonard/YourHub.com
Article Contributed on: 12/21/2006 10:56:31 AM
I haven't lived in Denver that long, but something tells me I won't get many chances to snowshoe on our beloved Colfax Avenue. So today, I took the initiative. I am like the postman, I said. Through rain or snow, or dark of night ...
What's that? The post office didn't deliver yesterday? Well.
There was about two feet of snow on Humboldt Street when I got up this morning. My girlfriend and I watched a guy try to dig his car out from a parallel-parking spot. He gave up after about half an hour. A couple was snowshoeing down the sidewalk, back from the grocery store, I'm guessing, and their dog got stuck in the snow. Really stuck. It took him about three minutes to get out.
I strapped on the old snowshoes and took off down the middle of the street, making my way to 13th Avenue, then 14th. The snow was pleasantly packed in spots, but giant drifts of powder in others, where I sank up to my knees. Colfax was a different story. By the time I got to about Downing Street, it was apparent that I didn't really need snowshoes. A handful of people were walking on the side of the road where it had been plowed, and car traffic was down to one lane in each direction, almost exclusively 4-wheel drive vehicles.
Hardly any businesses were open, besides Paul's Liquors, The Couch (a bar), and Kitty's Adult Emporiums, whose front window says "We Never Close." There's a master's thesis in anthropology just waiting to be born out of this situation: When a blizzard shuts down everything -- government, transportation, roads, airports -- what suppliers remain open? Why, porn and booze, of course.
I finally admitted it was overkill and kicked the snowshoes off about five blocks from the office.
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