Colorado’s Village of Miniatures

  

In a world made for adults, there’s a unique little place created especially for its pint-sized members. 

                                       

Located outside of Morrison, CO, Tiny Town is snuggled into a mountain canyon 30-minutes west of downtown Denver. A girlfriend and I decide it would be the perfect day trip destination for our collective kids to expend their uncontainable energy. We couldn’t have been more right. 

 

The moment we enter through the gate, most of the kids burst onto the scene in full force. The first building to catch their attention, just a few short yards into the village, is the miniature Denver Fire Station. My toddler son, still a little unsure, crouches before the building gazing in, trying to understand what he is and is not allowed to touch. 

One of the older girls reaches out the front door and grabs his hand, pulling him into the unknown. At that moment he is introduced to a world where windows can be seen through without the use of tiptoes and porches can be climbed upon without holding the hands of a grown-up. 

A handful contain meticulously staged miniature décor inside.

With his daughter in mind, local business owner George Turner had begun construction on Tiny Town’s precursor, Turnerville, in 1915, creating buildings one-sixth in size. Five years later, the village, located at the Denver-Leadville stagecoach stop, opened to the public. By the mid-20’s, Tiny Town housed 125 colorful structures and was enjoyed by an annual 20,000 visitors traveling to see this enchanting little land. 

Unfortunately, the 40 years that followed brought Tiny Town floods, a fire and the rerouting of Highway 285, making the area less obvious to passersby. In 1966, the town of miniatures closed its doors and was left desolate and empty. 

Throughout the next few decades, many attempts were made toward the restoration of Tiny Town. Each resulted in only a few years of the village being open to the public before, once again, closing and leaving the structures in despair. 

However, in 1987, the town was adopted as a civic project by The Northern Colorado Chapter of the Institute of Real Estate Management. With strict guidelines for refurbishment, lots were auctioned off and revival began. Doors were reopened in July of 1988 to enthusiastic crowds and a new era for Tiny Town began.

 

My son, now uninhibited and weaving around each building with rapid-fire speed, gets drawn to a theater with “Majestic” scripted down the front and the words “Now Playing Chaplin” placed on both sides of the angular marquis. This is one of the buildings that can’t be entered, but when tiny noses smash against the window, a variety of period-themed miniatures can be seen placed meticulously inside with great attention to detail. 

The kids weave in and out and on the structures.

The next hour is spent winding in and out through an opera house, peeking through bars of an adobe jail, climbing to a windmill set atop a cluster of rocks and scaling cartoonish-painted cottages before stopping at one of the many picnic tables to refuel with snacks. 

And finally, after much anticipation, we get to the train.The only thing that had made the kids take any pause at all during their exploration had been the Tiny Town Railway train chugging past as it followed the mile-long track along the outskirts of the village. For those few brief moments, they would forget the rest of the village and excitedly wave to the conductor and his passengers. 

Added in 1939, the train’s whistle is heard throughout Tiny Town. My son excitedly takes his place next to me in one of the cars near the back as the older kids scramble to find a spot in the revered caboose. The conductor, complete with overalls and a blue and white striped hat, walks past, collecting the $1 tickets from eagerly outstretched little hands. 

The nearly 10-minute ride cuts along the canyon wall, with the earth angling sharply upward to our right in many places.

The nearly 10-minute ride cuts along the canyon wall, with the earth angling sharply upward to our right in many places. We cross the narrow river in two places over wooden bridges as well as chug through a small tunnel. The entire way, miniature structures dot the grassy area to our left, including a fun little replica of Coney Island, the hot dog-shaped restaurant currently located near Conifer. Other replicas of structures from both present day and Colorado’s past can also be spotted with a keen eye. 

As the train comes to a stop, the kids unload from the caboose and my son begrudgingly gives up his seat to the next round of passengers. Only promises of another visit soon convince the group of heavy-lidded children toward the exit to call it a day. 

www.tinytownrailroad.com

Rafting the Arkansas in Colorado

 

The Arkansas River offers whitewater rafting for all levels.

I had been lucky. On five previous rafting trips through Brown’s Canyon on the Arkansas River, most other members of the group took tumbles into the frigid waters. But, throughout the years, I’d always been able to maintain position on the topside of the raft. 

I didn’t have that same sense of calm this year, the sixth annual trip on this particular 16-mile excursion guided by River Runners.

The author (middle left) with her fellow rafters.

The gorgeous June morning began at 7:30 a.m. when I awoke to rally the troops. We’d camped the night before in the River Runners campground just south of Buena Vista. One of the biggest perks is that the outfitter’s campground is only 100 feet or so from the area where we put into the river, called Fisherman’s Bridge, so campers can sleep in to the last possible minute and then stumble over without waiting for buses or shuttles.

Since we had used this company for the last few consecutive summers, we’d become familiar with some of its guides and had requested our favorites. My requirements were pretty basic, really. I wanted the guide I believed knew every inch of the river and could get me to the end without any mangling. Entertaining stories during downtime was also a plus. Kirby was the guide for me.

We had seven full rafts in our group this time. Six of them appeared to be the same size, while the seventh — the one Kirby stood next to — was strikingly smaller. I’d been rafting enough to know that when the water was as high and fast as it was this year, larger meant easier to control.

The river provides beautiful scenery as a backdrop.

Kirby informed us that since he’d been specifically requested, he didn’t want to disappoint, so he opted to ensure a true thrill ride. Nope, not feeling as lucky this year.

We set afloat down the river and came to the first group of rapids, the Canyon Doors. They contain just enough white water to give you a taste of what’s ahead. Next came Pin Ball, one of my favorites. It offers the sensation of bouncing back and forth down the river in a similar manner to the age-old game.

By now the experience has allowed the opportunity to shut down the analytical brain and let one’s instincts take over. I looked around the group to see everyone exuding such strength, both physical and mental. People were no longer worried about work on Monday, but were aware only of this very moment and their immediate surroundings. The now-vibrant faces were all smiling, coming a long way from the sleepy, wary faces of this morning.

The next rapid, Zoom Flume, was one of the most important of the day. This is where a professional photographer stands on the banks shooting each raft, creating images available later for purchase. It is here that, while maneuvering through the white waters and trying to hear the guide’s instructions over the river’s roar, the repeat rafters know to also keep a tough “I’m in control” expression on their face. No adventure-seeker wants to be the amateur who gets snapped with his paddle far from the water with eyes closed while diving to the inner raft for safety, only to be permanently displayed in his fellow rafters’ scrapbooks for years to come.

The rafters work as a team even in-between rapids.

The guides began preparing us for the upcoming rapids, which are rated Class III and IV, depending on the water’s rage that day. Just the names give an indication of what’s to come: Big Drop, Staircase and Raft Ripper. Anything called Raft Ripper doesn’t leave much question as to what’s ahead. Sure enough, a few people took spontaneous dips, and the rafting guides who had already passed through raced to catch the mutinying paddles before they were lost downstream.

After brief break for recuperation, the group headed on to Seidel’s Suckhole. Kirby was being very specific on the game plan for tackling this one, making it clear we were in for a ride. As we came upon the scene, the water didn’t look as incredibly intimidating as I’d remembered. Suddenly, we began moving faster with the current as Kirby yelled instructions to us, which were only half-heard over the deafening roar.

We were all paddling our hearts out, fighting against nature with all our ability and not necessarily winning. The raft went headlong into a massive rapid, and the middle section, right below where I was sitting, felt as though it was folding in half. A tsunami-size wave (in my mind) washed over the boat and knocked me off balance. It was at this point I become one with nature and allowed it to take me gently into the river.

No, wait … maybe that’s not exactly how it happened.

All right, there was a wave that came at me (and it really was huge), but while I thought I was leaving with it for a moment, I regained my footing and began to pull my upper body back into the raft. It was at this point the friend on the left middle, a 6-foot, 200-pound former military man, was catapulted toward the center of the raft and his paddle, still firmly in his hands, thrust into my upper lip, causing my balance to once again be thrown off. As I was knocked toward the water, I reach for the guy sitting ahead of me, a dear friend who, in another circumstance, would surely have had great concern for my well-being. However, as I reached for his hand, his hand was reaching for his beloved hat, which has been washed overboard as well. I threw my hand on top of my own beloved hat and went into the river.

Almost as soon as I went under, I was popped back up downstream and floating in a calmer part. The hot rush of adrenaline had protected me against the shock of the icy water. While I could feel a warm hint of blood where my lip had been split, I knew I was just fine. I became aware of all the men in my boat yelling a confusing mix of instructions my way. I felt comfortable with my safety at this time but could hear the panic in their voices, which made sense, considering my big brother, husband and father were in the raft. Who would want to explain to Mom how their little sister/wife/daughter was lost downstream on a sunny afternoon in the Rockies?

I was able to single out Kirby’s instructions and proceed to the raft, swimming with one hand still on that hat, which was now a little misshapen but still functional. As they pulled me in, the color drained from their faces as they saw the blood on mine. After a quick rinse and the assurance that it was just a lightly split lip, we proceeded down the river.

My sense of calm had now returned, as I felt I had at last paid my long-awaited dues. We neared the final rapid of the day, Twin Falls. In past years as we approached the falls my heart had still been racing with eager excitement of one last challenge. This time, while still enthusiastic, I knew I’d already faced my big challenge of the day. Sure enough, it seemed a bit mild compared to my last little thrill ride.

We arrived at Stone Bridge, the 16-mile point, which marked the end of the trip. The seven rafts were lined up at the bank and we pulled ourselves onto land with sore muscles, smiling faces, a few minor battle scars and a satisfied sense of accomplishment.

For more information

River Runners

www.riverrunnersltd.com

Colorado River Outfitters’ Association

www.croa.org

All Things Renewable

 

All Things Renewable supports a second life for material goods.

The line of spoon rests looks like modern pieces of blown glass art. The abstract shapes and not-too-polished surfaces suggest each piece is a handcrafted masterpiece.

Then I notice the Mountain Dew logo.

The spoon rests are, in fact, a second life for glass that formerly existed as soda and beer bottles. Heated and molded into a flattened shape with a cratered head, items that easily could have been tossed as trash are instead transformed into functional art.

Welcome to All Things Renewable.

Sustainable living is priority in this well-lit, airy shop, opened in 2007 by Colorado residents Julie Gleason and Sean McVay. Located in Northfield Stapleton, an open-air retail center in northeast Denver’s Northeast quadrant, All Things Renewable is a one-stop shop for eco-friendly lifestyles.

Toys are made of natural materials such as hemp fibers.

Glass bottles aren’t the only things finding a second chance here. I stare at a photo frame a few moments before it dawns on me that it’s made out of a bicycle chain. A string of shiny, funky metal shapes create the frame, ensuring attention will be brought to a favorite image. My mind begins to wander and I think of all the items I have at home that I could incorporate into photo frames. I feel the inspiration swell.

My mind quickly switches gears as I come upon the composting display. As a novice composter, I have numerous questions about the process. While I love the concept of changing my leftover produce into rich, dark soil for my garden, the reality of composting can be challenging to a first-timer. After all, there’s a bit of a mess, the issue of space and the potential for odor that can be deterrents even to the most avid environmentalist.

The sales associate patiently listens as I ask questions and she’s thorough in her answers, keeping her responses simple and easy to follow.

She leads me to a compost model that should be set center stage upon a satin sheet with a beam of light showering it while angelic music plays. It is truly the mother ship of composting. Perfect for an indoor location, this small, airtight container has a foot pedal, an air filter and will constantly stir the materials for me, creating compost in a quarter of the time. While it is a bit pricey, I’m already justifying it in my mind due to its ease and cleanliness. My inner eco-activist might be determined, but it can also get a bit lazy from time to time.

A variety of composters are available as well as plenty of resources on the subject.

However, the shop isn’t limited to products. Home improvement and energy reduction also begin here. I consider how my kitchen might look with bamboo or cork flooring as I run my hands over the smooth in-store samples. I think of my last utility bill as I read about the solar panels and power and energy appliances offered. I learn All Things Renewable can even help out with residential wind generators and I imagine wind power being produced in my own backyard.

As I consider all the changes I want to implement, I wonder aloud where I should begin. Surely, there are changes that are more immediate or can have a larger impact than others.

The saleswoman fills me in on one of the shop’s most unique services. I can have a consultant come to my home for a “green audit,” which will tell me where my home needs improvement and how to reduce my personal energy use.

I mull over my newfound knowledge as I poke through the rest of the store. Natural soaps and detergents, clothing for all ages made of bamboo blends and hemp fibers, journals made from recyclable materials and non-toxic children’s toys fill the aisles.

As I check out and turn to leave, a piece of jewelry catches my eye. A red fleur de lis earring and pendant set hangs on display, created from recycled vinyl music records. It’s one more creative example of sustainable living in a store that offers the most random items in renewed life.

For more information

www.allthingsrenewable.com

Stella’s Coffeehaus

 

Stella's atmosphere provides a great place for both studying and socializing.

In an old brick house with a large wraparound porch, the rich aroma of coffee pulls in passersby.

Stella’s Gourmet Coffeehaus, 1476 S. Pearl St., a few blocks from the University of Denver, embodies the characteristics of a traditional, locally owned coffee shop. There is no drive-through window, no uniforms and the employees behind the counter remain employees for long spans of time.

Local art is displayed against a background of brightly-painted walls.

I enter through one of the side doors, which takes me through the multi-room first level. The walls are lined with shelves of used books, available for reading and purchase. Original works by local artists are displayed prominently in each room, holding their own against bright backgrounds of orange, lime green and purple walls.

In one room, students sit at mismatched painted tables with their laptops using the free Wi-Fi while in a nearby room a cluster sits in the over-stuffed sofa deep in conversation.

I walk to the counter in the front room and place my order with a guy wearing a little scruff, a vintage tee and worn, faded jeans, and with a willingness to chat with me for a few moments while he waits for my order.

Free Wi-Fi is offered for customers.

A chalkboard displays the day’s specials, including an Ethiopian blend and some iced drinks, as well as a list of ice creams. Teas are as much of a focus as coffee and the selection of leaves is diverse.

On this warm evening, about three-quarters of the outdoor seating is filled. It’s the perfect perch from which to watch people walking by in this trendy neighborhood. Customers range from college-age students with colored hues striping their hair to a group of policemen chatting easily with the folks at nearby tables.

An overlay protects a portion of the porch from the elements, with oversized umbrellas covering much of the rest. On chilly evenings, heat lamps and fire pits are turned on to warm the area. A large metal dish of community ice water is placed conveniently near the walkway for the numerous dogs that laze near their owners on the porch.

Outdoor heaters & firepits provide warmth on the patios on chilly evenings.

In the short time it takes for the barista to grab my mocha, I skim over the posters of local performing artists. There is also a list of dates for live music to be played by local musicians. I don’t recognize many of the artists listed but the laid-back selections playing through the house convince me they would be worth checking out.

I seek out an empty table on the front porch where about 15 tables are set up in the bi-level area. For extra seating, tables for two are arranged on either side of the house, offering a more private environment.

I enjoy the evening, losing myself in my environment and the buzz of conversations around me.

For more information

www.stellascoffee.com

Metaphysical Fair

Chakras are read with specialty imaging machines at the fair.

Denver, known for its Old West, outdoor activities and … chakras? You’d certainly think so by the crowd that had amassed indoors at the Metaphysical Fair on this sunny afternoon.

I had convinced my husband, Chad, to join me at the bi-annual fair, held in the spring and fall at the Denver Merchandise Mart.

We had gone once before, but remained observers then. This time I went with a purpose. I had cash in hand and wanted a photo of my aura taken. My husband just smiled and shook his head when I told him, but let me lead him to where the specialty cameras were.

After having auras photographed an interpeter explains the colors.

After standing in line for about 10 minutes, we got our chance to sit before the lens, smile goofy smiles and allow our auras to be photographed in all their glories. These specialized cameras supposedly photograph the energy fields surrounding our bodies, with different colors giving indications of our overall being. We were given our Polaroids and sat in eager anticipation for analysis.

A few minutes later we were summoned to the table of a smiling woman with waist-length white, silver and black streaked hair who studied our images. She didn’t tell us so much about our futures, but rather about who we are now, how we perceive ourselves and the way others perceive us.

Metaphysical resources are available at many of the booths.

Chad’s was a muddle of yellows, oranges and reds, letting her know immediately about his “big personality,” his warmth and compassion and his keen ability to leave his mark on others. Mine, primarily offering purple, green, blue and white hues, seemed to let her know that I had been quite ill recently and in “temporary self-imposed isolationism.” True enough, this was my first outing in a week and I was still feeling a little under par.

Psychic, tarot card readers and healers line the outskirts of the celebration and often offer sessions in 20 minute increments. Sign up sheets are available and sessions fill up on a first-come/first-serve basis.

While I hadn’t exactly gussied up for this event, I like to think she got that from my aura and not my still-sort-of-pale-and-puffy physical appearance. She also told me I was on the verge of a psychic breakthrough. Huh. I decided that’s the morsel I liked the best and wondered whether this breakthrough would finally allow me to track my keys, phone, sunglasses and Chap Stick, and all the other little objects that regularly elude me. We wandered around a few cubicles, checking out Native American art, reading charts to find our kindred animal spirits, and watching demonstrations on tai chi and other spiritual martial arts. After watching presentations on detoxification and cleansing, we went to the cafeteria for some hot dogs and sodas.

Stones and gems of all types & sizes can be purchased.

We felt a twinge of guilt as we ordered nachos, then felt a little more of that twinge when we went back for extra cheese. So we also added extra jalapeños, which everyone knows is just like having a serving of vegetables and, I’m pretty sure, technically neutralizes the non-nutritional value of the rest of the lunch. Detoxification, we’re on our way!

While nourishing ourselves, we listened to the live performance on a make-shift stage set up in the corner. We were thrilled to find it was the group Twinflames, a duo we’d heard on our first trip to the fair and who are self-described as Celtic Spiritual musicians. We had actually bought two of their CDs the year before, so when the set was over we walked up like the groupies we now felt we were, and shook hands, raving about their sound.

Crystals are a staple throughout the fair.

I pulled out my last $15 and handed it over as the woman seated me next to an imaging machine connected to a laptop. I placed my hand in the center of the contraption and waited a few minutes while I was “read.”

The imagery showed on the laptop and a 5-page analysis was printed out, complete with the picture, summarizing my chakras. I was surprised to find it outlined many of the same things my aura analysis had suggested.

Perhaps it was my psychic self that knew my husband wouldn’t be able to resist. I watched him sigh, hand over some bills and sit at one of the nearby machines. When it was finished, he glanced at his sheet, noticed a few of the many highly favorable descriptions and knowingly nodded. Yes, he agreed, maybe there is something to this after all.

For more information

The celebration is held twice each year in both Denver & Colorado Springs.

www.celebrationfair.com

Night Out in Telluride

 

The local scene in Telluride is laid-back & worth checking out.

There was no question his birthday would be spent in Telluride this year.

Our longtime friend Maguire had recently moved to the area and nothing could have kept Chad, my gracefully aging betrothed, from celebrating his birth in this Southwestern Colorado town. So, we collected our friend Heather and drove the five hours from Denver to the San Juan Mountains, where this town of some 2,200 residents is snuggled deeply into a box canyon.

Last Dollar Saloon on Main Street has the feel of a neighborhood bar.

It was my first trip to Telluride, which sits at over 8,700 feet, and I knew only of its reputation as a popular winter resort. I knew we would be going “out on the town” at least one evening, so I had resigned myself to a night in the ski village, which, I figured, if like most others, would mean drinking over-priced cocktails and dancing to loud tunes in over-filled, tight quarters where toes become casualties.

I wasn’t even close.

Saturday evening, after some birthday barbecuing on the deck despite chilly weather, our group of celebrants wandered to a gondola lift that connects the town of Telluride to the ski village up the mountain. I am terribly claustrophobic and knew riding this would be no small feat. However, the promise of a beautiful aerial view of the lights of Telluride beat out my fears and we began our evening adventure. 

The gondolas provide free transportation between Telluride & Mountain Village.

Our particular gondola seated eight and was transparent from top to bottom. The nearly 10 minutes in that little box flew quickly as the lights of the town were mesmerizing. The trails were brightly lit and the forested mountainside, abandoned in the night hours, exuded serenity as we passed above.

Once at the village I was surprised to note the quiet that surrounded us. We made our way to a bonfire flaming high in the courtyard, being watched by a solitary figure. Soon after we joined him, other night-wanderers found their way over.

A group of strangers becomes singing friends around a fire pit.

The night air soon filled with jovial laughs and bouts of off-key renditions of popular songs. A bottle of Crown Royal whisky surfaced and was passed to anyone willing to call out the “secret password,” which was openly shared with the group: a loud roar of “HOO-ah!!”

As the bottle emptied, we made our way back to the gondola, with the magnificent canyon view again keeping my attention focused along the way back to town. Maguire veered us into Last Dollar Saloon, right on Main Street. The feeling here was much more that of a local neighborhood bar than tourist destination.

Music flowed from the jukebox that still allowed for conversations without straining one’s throat. As we ordered drinks my eyes widened at the very generous pouring of vodka into my glass. It was official: this was not the resort town I’d envisioned!

The Fly Me to the Moon Saloon provides an eclectic array of live music.

Our final stop was Fly Me to the Moon Saloon, another bar on Main Street, which has been a Telluride staple for over 20 years. The first matrimonial dance Chad and I shared had been to Frank Sinatra’s rendition of the song of the same name, so we had to check the place out.

 

We walked downstairs to a basement club and were greeted by live music of The Ethereal Plane, a self-described trip-rock, dance-fusion funk band from the Boulder area.

The Mushroom Lounge has pool tables, another bar and a seating area.

We set up camp at a bar corner in The Mushroom Lounge, a space adjacent to the main room complete with seating and a pool table, and ordered the last drinks of the night. We visited with some locals and enjoyed music wafting in from the open doorways.

In the early a.m. hours, we walked the two blocks back to Maguire’s pad. I glanced down at the flyer I had picked up from our final watering hole, and looked forward to future nights out on the town in Telluride.

For more information

www.town.telluride.co.us

Last Dollar Saloon
100 E. Colorado Ave., Telluride
(970) 728-4800

Fly Me to the Moon Saloon
132 E. Colorado Ave., Telluride
(970) 728-MOON

Think Pink

 

Breast cancer survivors celebrate at a ceremony following the run/walk.

Pink fur, pink wigs, pink boas and pink hats fill the Denver streets en masse.

It can only mean one thing: the Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure is here. As one of the country’s largest Race for the Cure, 60,000-plus Denverites come together for this event to show their commitment to eradicating breast cancer as a life-threatening disease.

Events include a 5k run, a 5k walk & a family 1k walk.

 As the daughter of a breast cancer survivor and the granddaughter of a woman who put up a valiant fight for four years, this is a no-miss event for me. I pull on pink sweats, slip into my pink tank and douse my braids with hot-pink hairspray. On those cooler mornings, I might don a saucy pink wig for a little extra warmth. And, along with just about everyone else, I pin a list to my back honoring those for whom I’m walking.

The walk to the event is not a lonely one. People fill the streets on that Sunday morning, coming from all directions, gathering in the registration area of the Pepsi Center parking lot. This isn’t just an event for women. Sons, fathers, husbands and other guys join the festivities, gussied up in as much pink as the women at times.

While the co-ed walk is the most well-known event on this day, it’s not the only option. There is also a 5k run as well as a 1k family walk. For those who can’t make it downtown but still want to add support, an option to “sleep in for the cure” is also available online.

Denver's streets are filled with over 60,000 participants.

2009  will mark the 17th Race for the Cure in Denver, with a goal of raising more than $1.5 million. With one in eight women being stricken with breast cancer in her lifetime, the Komen organization puts the money raised from this event toward “funding education, screening, and treatment programs for these women and thousands of others in our own community and supports the national search for a cure.”

 The race isn’t just about running and walking, though. Numerous tents are set up at the end of the route featuring handouts from sponsors, drawings, information and games. Music floats through the air from various mobile stages.

A survivors’ ceremony is held as the morning nears end, and hundreds of women, often identified by their hot-pink ball caps, gather together to celebrate and be celebrated by teary onlookers.

Here is this year’s race day schedule:

Sunday, Oct. 4

Location: Pepsi Center
6-9 a.m. Registration
7:00 a.m. Co-Ed 5K Run (new…non-timed event)
8:00 a.m. Co-Ed 5K Walk
9:00 a.m. Family 1-Mile Fun Walk
9:30 a.m. Live entertainment
10:15 a.m. Closing Ceremony & Survivors’ Tribute

Other Races around the state include:

Aspen: Saturday, July 18, 2009

Colorado Springs: Sunday, September 13, 2009

For more information, go to http://ww5.komen.org/findarace.aspx

Leo’s Cafe

Leo's not only provides a fantastic menu but they also have a very dog-friendly patio.

In the mood for brunch one early Sunday afternoon, my husband and I aimlessly drive through the Lone Tree area. With our dog Kona in the back seat, we look for patios where she might be welcome.

We spot Leo’s Café, find its patio is canine-friendly and grab an umbrella-shaded seat. It’s our first time at the restaurant, and we discover that narrowing our selection from the extensive list of mouth-watering choices is almost impossible.

Breakfast, served until 2 p.m. daily, offers more than the basic bacon and eggs. This is a place that gives the customer freedom to create the perfect meal. Want hollandaise sauce? Choices include dill, lobster and herbed. Want a different sauce for your meal? How about mushroom, spicy tomato or chipotle? Breakfast empanadas, paninis and Belgium waffles are just a few of the many other choices available, as well as a build-your-own omelet section with more than 20 options.

Within moments of our arrival, an employee sets a metal bowl of iced water near Kona. We are immediately pleased with our choice for brunch. As many animal lovers will attest, half of winning us over is first winning over our furry family members.

A few minutes later, Leo Reiff, for whom the restaurant is named, saunters onto the patio to introduce himself and mingle with the customers. Noticing Kona, he retreats inside and returns with a treat for her. At this point I realize that the folks at Leo’s cater to our dog with more attention than many establishments cater to humans.

However, the humans certainly aren’t neglected here. After serving drinks, our waiter sets an appetizer plate before each of us with a complimentary homemade cinnamon roll dripping with a succulent glaze.

Leo, who owns the restaurant with his wife Lisa, opened the café in January. Although he has been involved in the U.S. food industry for years, this is his first restaurant in the United States. The last one he operated was in his home town of Cape Town, South Africa.

Offering both American and global cuisine, the items on the menu are all made from scratch with obvious attention to detail. In an area that has become saturated with chain eateries, it is a welcome change.

“We wanted to create a family-owned place,” said Leo. “We want you to have a good experience here.”

With the first bite of my Agean omelet, there is no doubt I’ll be having a good experience at Leo’s. Stuffed with herbed spinach, roasted red peppers, feta cheese, olives and artichokes, every bite is as good as the last. Originally uncertain about the spicy tomato sauce, I had asked for it on the side. That ends up being unnecessary, as I become an immediate fan, pouring the entire container over the egg dish before the second bite.

As we wrap up our brunch and head home, we linger for a moment to say goodbye to Leo. When he thanks us for stopping in, we can’t help but thank him back for this breath of fresh air in dining.

For more information

www.leoscafeonline.com

Perk & Play

Perk & Play balances adult decor & children's decor using eco-friendly materials.

After years as a non-coffee drinker, one change switched my status in an instant: parenthood.

I began to understand the addiction my parents always had for this aromatic beverage, and the low growls that were substituted for words before the first cup was sipped began making sense.

However, I quickly realized that someone up above has a dark sense of humor. As I began exploring the world of coffees, it became next to impossible to enjoy a local coffee shop with a newly walking toddler exploring a world of mischief.

Toys & activites are available to entertain children & are cleaned with green products.

Quaint bookshelves, filled magazine racks and artsy ceramic vases with flowers would have been welcome once upon a time. Now, however, they are simply magnets for my inquisitive ball of energy whose goal is to remove as many items from their original spots as a minute will allow. The idea of keeping him entertained in a coffeehouse while I try to enjoy a cup of java seemed exhausting just to imagine.

Then I found Perk and Play and my world has become a little more caffeinated.

The moment we opened the door to the shop, my little guy’s eyes widened at the colorful play area open to him. In the two corners closest to the entryway, toys galore filled shelves and were set up for easy access. Two children were already deep in play, making the place that much more attractive to my son.

While much of the coffee shop appears “adult-themed” with trendy red hanging lights, overstuffed sofas and café tables, there are subtle accents bringing childhood into the mix. The vibrant paintings on the wall are from kid-inspired art, and one of the central café tables has a glossy yellow surface, with a spattering of hand prints preserved in bright paint across the top.

In a quick scan of the room, a mom can’t miss the lack of usual child-endangering items. Corners are rounded, condiments are kept high and out of reach, no electrical cords snake out of or along the walls, and the cork floors are much gentler on little foreheads when missteps or tumbles are taken.

Wi-Fi is available to customers free of charge.

Opened earlier this year in northeast Denver’s Stapleton neighborhood, owners Margo and Jonathan Zonca, the parents of three boys, were aware of the need for a kid-friendly environment where adults can still be adults. They also understood the need to make it as safe as possible for the children.

In addition to the obvious childproofing, Perk and Play is painted with the eco-friendly “Aura” brand, the wooden blocks and other toys strewn about are painted in the U.S. to ensure lead-free fun, and the cleaning sprays used are non-toxic products. The philosophy at this coffeehouse is to “do least harm” to the environment.

This philosophy extends past the décor and toys. Organic coffees and teas are offered, local suppliers are used, and even the eggs used in the crepes are from animals raised cage-free and hormone-free.

Of course, in a child-friendly environment, the kids aren’t forgotten at the snack bar. Cheese sticks, fruit, juices and snack puddings are among items displayed behind the glass intermixed with cranberry-orange muffins and chocolate croissants.

Now when I need a caffeine fix, I head for the warm sanctuary of Perk and Play. While my son climbs in, over and through the colorful wooden school bus in the corner and wears himself out, I relax at the table, sipping a cup of joe and re-energizing myself.

For more information

www.PandPCoffee.com

A Total Drag

Petticoat Bruncheon mixes an eclectic atmosphere with delectable food.

“French food or drag queens?” I ask my friend Christy, in town for only one day.

“Drag queens work for me.”

Our brunch location decided, we are off, headed to Petticoat Bruncheon at Bump & Grind Café on the outskirts of downtown Denver.

The atmosphere mixes kitsch with vibrant colors.

Petticoat Bruncheon, held on Saturdays and Sundays between 10 a.m. and 2 p.m., is quite the draw to those looking for good food mixed with a kitschy atmosphere. The waitresses are, for the most part, men dressed in drag who are lively storytellers with plenty of sass. There are a few females with aprons weaving between the tables who would very clearly be presumed women outside these walls. Here, though, a second glance is required to be certain they’re not just extremely talented with their beauty regimen.

The waitresses are attentive and a little saucy.

Our waitress, 6 feet tall with a short, dark wig, ruby-red lips and a décolletage exposing the need for a good wax, hands us ‛70s vinyl album covers with menus attached to the back. Mine sports the Bee Gees gazing longingly into the distance. She takes our drink orders and turns to walk away, but not before jutting out a hip and flipping her dress hem to expose hot-pink panties that state “Sexy Girl” on the back.

It’s a challenge to focus on the menu with such eclectic décor begging to be noticed. A few walls are boldly striped with vibrant fuchsias, blues, purples and an eye-catching chartreuse. Another is bright yellow with cantaloupe-sized orange dots.

Mobiles and disco balls hang from the branches of a faux tree set near the front of the room.

Mobiles and silver disco balls hang from the large fake tree in the front corner. One mirrored-wall is covered with pieces of construction paper, each describing a menu item. Murals, paintings and ‛60s-style lamps keep our attention moving throughout the room. Burlesque-dressed doll lamps, Barbies and other random knickknacks consume the counter space. Coffee is hardly needed with stimulants like these.

Menu choices range from healthy granola to hearty sandwiches, each designated with a celebrity-based name. Christy decides on the Rue(lade) McClanahan, a rich egg roulade with pesto and fresh veggies. I waffle between the Joey Buttafouco, a panini with roasted red peppers, mushrooms and provolone cheese, and the Kevin Bacon panini, which is self-explanatory.

The Salmon Rushdie is a huge serving of lox and cream cheese and an all time favorite.

Despite my determination to order something different, I end up requesting my favorite once again — the Salmon Rushdie. It’s a smothering of lox on a wheat bagel with thick cream cheese. A mound of capers, red onions and lemon wedges accompany the perfectly smoked salmon and, as with most all the meals, fresh fruit chunks are piled on the side.

At one point, while waiting for our food, a tall statuesque blonde — with a hint of a five o’clock shadow — calls for the attention of all the patrons. I’ve seen her before and am always in awe of her ability to walk in ridiculously high heels while pin balling between tables serving food. In addition to a dazzling, albeit stripper-esque wardrobe, her make-up is impeccably applied, suggesting she has a steadier hand with eyeliner than most women in the place.

Photos with the staff are always welcome.

Her voice booms across the café as she announces that the law mandates a 15-minute break for every two hours of work and she is taking hers now. I’m not certain, but I’m guessing the customers in that particular section didn’t see their water glass refilled for a while.

Our waitress drops by with our food, but has more on her mind than who gets what. She has anecdotes to share and life lessons to impart. There is no editing in her language and, after what seems like eternity, considering the aromatic food sitting idly before us, she leaves us with a red-faced mixture of embarrassment and gut-wrenching laughter.

Before finishing our meals, we have to push back our plates to keep from taking “just one more bite.” The servings are large and the only way anyone can leave still hungry is if they’ve spent too much time people-watching to remember to eat. If you want to etch the experience into your mind, disposable cameras are sold at the front counter and the wait staff is more than willing to take time to pose for photos.

We head to the front to pay our bill. Our waitress calls out from across the room. We reach out to catch the kiss blown to us and leave satisfied with our Petticoat Bruncheon morning.

For more information

www.bumpngrindcafe.com

Bump & Grind Cafe, 439 E. 17th Ave., Denver; 303-861-4841