I am now within easy walking distance of downtown Denver. A kilometer to the east, I can see Union Station. A kilometer to the south, I can see Six Flags Elitch Gardens. A kilometer to my north is a park where I stopped and a 2 dot dogs a few minutes ago. I didn't think I would ride this far!

At the park, they were having a festival, featuring amplified music, lots of picnic tents, and vendors selling things. Apparently, based on the signs, it has something to do with Puerto Rico. I found myself in a racial minority in the crowd. I bought a hot dog from one vendor for $1, and a turkey dog from another for $2. Way cheaper than Pearl Street. (I rarely buy from the street food vendors on Pearl Street precisely because they're so fucking expensive.) So much for me being a health nut.

During my ride, I encountered the strangest sight. In the middle of the bike trail at one of the underpasses, a bunch of open porn mags were laid out on top of the pavement. They had obviously been placed there deliberately, because they were spread at equal intervals, and had been opened to pages containing the money shots.

It was fucking hilarious, in a totally random way. Who put them there, and why? I will never know. Whoever it was must have an even stranger sense of humor or social activism than me. I'll be curious to see if they're still there on my way back.

If so, do I disturb this piece of urban art, and pick one or two to take as souvenirs, or do I leave this monument to female anatomy undisturbed? Time will tell.

I'm contemplating whether I want to visit downtown Denver or not, now that I've journied all this way. I'm thinking probably not, now that I've got a full stomach. (I had considered eating there, but now I already found something better.)

Maybe I'll try to call grandpa before I head back. (Another item on my list for the weekend.)

Having a bike rules.