🇺🇸 - Estes Park-Rocky Mountain National - 09.20.2026

“I was surprised, as always, by how easy the act of leaving was, and how good it felt. The world was suddenly rich with possibility.”

- Jack Kerouac, On the Road

What drives a human being to wander… to an unknown place, over the next hill, around a corner, outside of a one’s comfort zone… away from everything he knows?

The primary genetic marker associated with "wandering humans"—colloquially known as the "wanderlust gene"—is DRD4-7R, a specific variation of the dopamine receptor D4 gene (DRD4).

DRD4-7R and an alphabet soup of environment, culture, imagination, brain development… and maybe the influences of a good book or two… and you’re on your way. You’re now a drifter.

I picked up a Colorado ID the other day… it joins the stacks of cards and identifications in wallet number one—that I use in my current travels. I have a wallet number two, that I have in the bottom of my adventure pack, with all of the cards I have used and may be using at some point in the future. Dozens in total… it’s almost ridiculous.

It’s not horribly difficult to get an ID in Colorado… if… you’ve had one before, have a current federal ID… and you have a piece of mail, and an address so they can mail your shiny new card, horrible picture and all, to your patiently awaiting hands.

People can be quite guarded about their space… and time… parking places… their lawn… yard… garage… trash cans… and mailing address. I had a hard enough time tracking down a ride from a colonoscopy to begin with… and mail? It’s like you’re asking to move in… and stay forever… while you eat the last potato chip in the house. I get it… I guess… I owned a home once… twice… but now… a resident mailing address is the bane of my existence as a wandering soul.

I managed to track down an address without causing much disruption, in the City and County of Denver. My friend’s place in Sunnyside… she’s moving soon… so, little to no harm… and how attached and guarded can one be to such a thing that is very temporary? And do understand this, all things we guard with the heart and fists… are forever temporary.

A piece of mail and my passport… an appointment with the Colorado Department of Revenue… and, “have you had a Colorado driver’s license or ID before?” says the agent.

“Yup.”

“Ummmm… your passport doesn’t match ‘this’ name we have on file…”

“Lemme see… oh… that… I have extra middle names… I forgot… that’s me.” I had forgot I have extra middle names… because, they are no place on any of my identifications (plural).

“Well… let me ask my supervisor…” when a DMV agent has to ask a supervisor a question… believe you/me… things will not go the way you hope… siempre! And the supervisor returns and insists that the rules are that all names must be included. (despite not showing up on my passport, social security card, New Mexico driver’s license, global entry, Mexican visa, Bolivian visa, planet fitness membership, and on, and on, and on…)

“Really?!? You need all?”

The nice lady, having a bad day already, nods yes. “Ok sir, do you have a driver’s license or ID in another State?”

“aaaaah nope! (and under my breath) Not with that name 😉”

“$14 bucks… go stand over there.”

“Sweeeet!!!”

I’m here, in Denver, temporarily… on medical leave… or I’m being held hostage by the universe as a cruel cosmic joke… maybe because I once stated, loudly, “I will never move back to Denver!” or whatever the reasons… but… I don’t need a new driver’s license, or to change my car registration… moto registration… car insurance… utility bills… a lease… and so on. I’m not moving in! But… I am in need… in need of available resources… and really… I just want a Library Card. An f’n fantastic Denver Public Library Card.

And at the Smiley Branch, with a new Colorado ID… I now have my new library card. Now I can use the 3D printer at the central branch and make diabolical inventions… like a shrink-ray-gun… to reduce the 3 inch stack of plastic cards in my wallet to a 1/2” stack. Maybe I just need a satchel… like Indiana Jones.

*

I just finished a 12 day gig in Estes Park watching two black cats in a lovely mountain home. The owners have a library on the lower level… and my room is adjacent… a fire, birdwatching, snacks, una biblioteca… and dreamy. The cats are nearly identical and I had trouble telling them apart. One is named, Two-dot… and neither has markings that would identify one as being, Two-dot. So… I called both No-dot… and they didn’t give the slightest of shits because I’m the guy that dishes out food, and treats, and apapachar.

Estes Park has a particular demographic… it doesn’t suit me… but it has some spectacular scenery. Awesome trails. And ample amounts of wildlife… that are totally acclimated to humans stopping in the middle of the road to take pictures while mouthing, “wooowwww” (guilty 🙋🏼). Birds, and deer, and bears, and rodent things… grey-haired retired couples… they’re everywhere… don’t feed them! Turkeys… what the hell?!? There were never not turkeys. And elk… lots of… and it is “rutting” season. Gigante bull elk, loud bugling, fighting each other, hovering around the females… then sexy time happens. And… there’s 10,000 tourists documenting this activity… pervs!

I have a National Park pass… and it’s free entry into Rocky Mountain National Park… and like many National Parks… it’s crowded… and there are long lines of cars… and I bought the Park pass for one reason… so I don’t feel guilty about paying and then leaving within 10 minutes. And so I did… twice.

The house I was staying at is outside of town, near the YMCA… and borders the park. There are nearby trails… and I could walk to them from the home base. I was able to find my peaceful places and I was quite happy about that.

I literally witnessed the seasons change… it was hot and summery when I arrived… and cool the following days… I watched the leaves change color before my eyes… then the rain… and cool brisk mornings… and the elk… with their noises. 😳

I had to make a couple runs to Denver for appointments and meds… I stopped by downtown Longmont for lunch snacks on the way back. I’ve hung out there many times before… it’s a peaceful vibe and their little market square is filled with cool shops… with very few shoppers midweek. I don’t need anything… but I NEED the Hemingway book and the copy of Kerouac’s, “On the Road” that were sitting all lonely like on a used book shelf in the back hallway. I already have 2 copies of “On the Road.” One in English and one in Spanish, “En el camino,” I picked up in the coolest book store in Buenos Aires… but… I like the cover… and I had been grasping for signs in the grande scheme of things… and of all places to find a copy, in the back hall of market, in a farming community. And cool.

My last hike of this adventure was at the East Portal Trailhead. It’s post Labor Day and the campground at the base was light on people and most appeared to be in town for the Scottish festival. And hence, I had the trails to myself.

There was a fork in the trail… you could walk next to the reservoir, which was nice and flat… or take a right… up the mountain. My legs were already fatigued, and I was tired… but for some unknown reason (to me) my brain chose the challenging path. I shuffled upward… slowly… with the idea I could turn around any moment I like. “Just to that rock.” then… “just to that sign.” then… “ohhh, changing leafs… must get a picture…” and forward… and onward… and why? The DRD4-7R variant gene? Curiosity maybe? I certainly had feel good chemicals flowing.

After a dozen or so of… “I’ll turn around up there.” decisions… I was out of time. You can’t be on foot in RMNP after 5pm… during “rutting” season or the bull elk will have sexy time with you… as I presume. And I pushed it one more time because I saw a sign in the distance. “There! That’s the point!” It was a designated backcountry camp spot. Cool, let’s check it out! No campers… a lovely place on a bluff. Great view… and another sign. And yes, I must go to the sign. I walked up and stood in front of the sign to read it, “privy” with an arrow. I must… I must follow the arrow. And down the path I investigate. Fifty meters maybe… and there it was… a privy… a toilet… in the open… no walls… a thrown in a sense… in the middle of nature… in the middle of nowhere.

And he, with a gastrointestinal disease, shall be king for a day. This day. And thanks baby Buddha for this gift from the universe.

So… what drives a man’s need to wander over the next hill? Around the next corner… the DRD4-7R variant? Nope… he needs to 💩 and wants a little peace around it. La verdad.

“…At length he sought adventure in distant lands and trod the jeweled thrones of the earth beneath his sandals... until at last, he found his own kingdom and wore its crown upon a troubled brow.”

- Conan the Barbarian (Can you believe Conan was the governor of California?!? Wicked awesome!)