Granby Colorado

When I took my trip across the country via planes, trains, and automobiles, I unexpectedly ended up having to divert my path to a city called Granby, Colorado. I knew nothing about it other than it was in the mountains above Denver.

When I arrived at the station, I discovered it was unmanned -just an empty building that served as a place people could wait indoors for their train to arrive.

Granby itself was small enough to where there was no public transportation available – No Uber, Lyft, taxi, etc… I was on my own to get to the room I had rented for the week. Because I had failed to plan, I faced dragging my roller luggage almost two miles. My physical condition/limitations ensured the trip would take hours and be completely exhausting.

As I limped my way down the main road, a dually truck passed by and pulled to the side of the road. The driver exited the vehicle and approached me with a big, friendly smile. He asked if I could use a lift to wherever I was headed.

The unsure, partially insecure side of me said to decline the offer. I was in no condition to defend myself if things went south. The other part of me that knew walking the whole way would slowly kill me anyway said to take the offer. After all, the guy was dressed nice, very friendly, and the truck he drove was easily 80-100K vehicle. I figured at most, he was gay and looking to hook up with an obvious tourist from out of town.

Because of my metrosexual style in my younger years, I had exceptional gaydar and was used to being hit on by gay men. Advances from men didn’t offend me and I knew how to talk to them so that they understood I didn’t swing to that side of the fence.

I accepted the man’s offer and he helped me load my roller into the back of his truck. I then climbed in and we merged back into traffic. He introduced himself and explained that he was a local -born and raised in Granby. As we continued down the road, we kept the small talk moving along but I could not tell what, if any, motivations he had for picking me up. Aside from asking numerous “get to know me” questions, the chit chat was above board.

About a mile before where my room was, he asked if I was hungry and if I wanted to grab a bite to eat before being dropped off. By that time, I knew he had a wife and kids. He was also wealthy and had a very successful business in Granby. My thoughts switched to the possibility that, as many wealthy people I’ve met over the years, he and his wife were swingers.

I can only blame my previous lifestyle for how my brain now works in these situations.

Because no lines had been crossed or even approached, I accepted his invitation. I figured at the worst case scenario and based on what I had observed so far, if he did ask me to sleep with his wife, the odds of her being hot were extremely high -another story to tell in my ridiculously chaotic life.

Not saying I would have accepted the invite… but based on how I physically appeared, it would have been a tremendous compliment!

He drove us to the local golf course to have lunch at their clubhouse. As we walked in, I could tell it was not your ordinary establishment. The decor was upscale. The waitresses were all young and beautiful. We chose to eat on the patio. As you can see below, the view was second to none.

While enjoying our lunch, I got to learn more about the gentleman who had shown me so much hospitality. A little about his family, his businesses, and how the city was growing and turning into a tourist trap with a cost of living that made it almost impossible for normal people to exist there.

He paid for my meal and then took me to my apartment. Before I got out, he gave me his phone number and said if I needed anything, to give him a call and he would help if he could.

Not taking account the beauty of Granby, Colorado and the surrounding area, the fact that local hospitality had stepped up in a way that I have not experienced -pretty much in my entire life, had me in awe. He wanted nothing other than lunch company.

Even when I found a small local business to rent a car for the week, the lady delivered the car to me, then allowed me to leave it at the train station instead of having to find a way back after dropping it off.

It was an experience I’ll never forget, even with the terrible trip that surrounded my stay there. For a brief moment in time I regained hope that there were people still out there who extended hospitality, were genuine with what they offered and did not want anything in return.

I’d love to actually live there, but the business owner wasn’t exaggerating when he explained the cost of living. Not even disability and a side job could keep a roof over my head there -which tells me the mentality I got to experience will more than likely fade away with time and tourism.