Atticus   

If you work downtown in Denver, the convenience of the 16th Street Mall can’t be overstated. I’ve bought two birthday cards, gone to the post office and had a sandwich and salad at Corner Bakery all on one lunch break.

Burrito places west of the Mississippi are stingy. Want chips and salsa with your meal? Better pony up, partner.

Eastern Kansas is beautiful. No, seriously.

If you’re ever in need of porn, fireworks, beer and a quickie recitation of the sinner’s prayer, Missouri’s gotcha covered at every exit.

If you’re driving on the streets of Denver after 10 p.m. on a weeknight, it’s entirely possible that you might be manning the only vehicle on the road besides a bus or patrol car.

If you’re a Braves fan who feels nostalgic for the days before the bandwagon fans climbed on in the ‘90s, stop by Coors Field for a Rockies game. I assure you that you’ll put to rest that longing.

I’m trying to determine whether it’s a state law to be in impeccable physical condition in Colorado. From the looks of it, I could be at risk of a citation.

When you tell people here that you’re riding the bus to work, you get the same blank stare you’d get in Atlanta.

It’s such a simple gesture. But mixing the ingredients of a burrito before rolling it, as they do at Illegal Pete’s, makes all the difference in the world.

If you don’t have water, you don’t have mosquitoes. (No, you may not stay at my house until the first frost back East.)

Rocky mountain oysters got their name for a reason. Fried up and served with a variation of cocktail sauce, it might be tough to tell the difference.

Elk meat in a word: delicious.

This fall I’m going to be all alone in front of the TV on Saturdays.

On the bright side, I’ll have all the trails, trout streams and campsites to myself on Sundays.