Epic Trip Out West, Day Thirty-Four: All-Nighter

I rolled into Fort Collins around five o’clock and just soaked up the green— the sight of trees in full spring blossom brought me to the verge of tears, even though I had watched the landscape through the Greyhound bus window as it blushed verdant the further south we traveled. The whole day was laid out before me.

Around nine o’clock pm, I realized that I didn’t have a place to sleep for the night. 

The realization came over me as I sat in Whole Foods Market, chowing down on a crisp salad topped with strawberries and feta. I’d booked the bus ticket to Fort Collins on faith, but none of my couchsurfing leads has turned out, so it was time for plan B.

I bought an extra apple and some “energy chunks,” blocks of trail-mix-like sustenance, then stepped outside into the cool night air. With a bounce in my step, I strolled down College Avenue under the welcoming glow of streetlamps, determined to burn three hours before resorting to my final option: the International House of Pancakes. I ventured into the downtown district, winding my way through labyrinthine tree shadows, their leaves luminous in the lamplight. Fort Collins’s nightlife was beginning to wake up, with small gaggles of college kids ready to get drunk trucking around through the twinkling lights of the town. 

I packed light, but as I lugged around my backpack, my shoulders ached and I wished I could’ve packed even lighter. I wandered for quite a while, pausing in different places along the way: a courtyard strewn with hanging lights that reflected bits of mica in the sidewalk, the dewy grass beside a pine tree beneath the stars, and the roughened side of a tree on the Colorado State University campus. At last midnight rolled around, and I allowed myself to wander into the IHOP.

My waiter, with a friendly tight-lipped smile, a pair of glasses perched on his nose, and a fuzzy ponytail, took my order (scrambled eggs platter and iced coffee), the paragon of helpful enthusiasm. He soon caught on that I was going to be there a while, and I opened up “Walden” and began the next watch of the night.

I sipped my coffee— I haven’t touched the drink for several years because I don’t like the taste, but iced it was pretty good— and tried to get my sleepy brain to make sense of Thoreau’s writing. I can’t remember 90% of it. There were some beautiful descriptions of ponds, and a rant about inconsiderate farmers, but that was overwhelmed by the loud group of people sitting to my right, who bragged about knocking the teeth out of former lover’s boyfriends, asked questions about the real reason Jesus died, loudly commented on how smashed they were, and burst into jubilant strains of “Piano Man” and “I Am the Walrus.” 

Around three o’clock, one of them jumped up and walked over to my table and asked where I was from and where I was going. I went ahead and told him, and he offered me a place to sleep on his couch, leaving his phone number on my receipt (his name was Donald). His offer was touching, because I know it was in good faith. 

Around 4:30am I decided to brave outside again. The waiter didn’t charge me for the coffee, and said in response to my thanks, “No problem, hon,” with that look that told me he’d seen I was tired for the moment I walked in the door at midnight.

I wandered out the door to find Donald and his roommate sharing a joint. The fragrance of weed filled my mind with good memories of my friends in Washington, and Donald said once more, brushing his dreadlocks away from his face, “You know I was serious about the offer.”

“I know,” I said. “Thanks so much.” Then I bid them farewell and took off into the darkness.

At first, it seemed as if the night had continued where it left off, but soon I began to notice that the sky was the deepest shade of indigo, rather than the black. One by one, the stars faded, and I heard a single bird singing in a redbud tree up ahead. I walked without much purpose, eventually turning off the main road and its yellow floodlights to a side street with a few buzzing streetlamps, heading east.

I strolled along, feeling the damp morning air in my lungs, the promise of a fresh start to the day, even though I hadn’t slept yet. I watched the eastern sky grow deep blue, then lighter blue, and finally a pale gold as if it’d been washed in watercolor. By this time I’d wandered out of the city and walked along a road lined on one side with open field and suburb houses on the other. At last the golden rim of the sun peeked over the line of trees, revealing a cloudless sky and the beginning to a new day.

I called my mom to let her know I hadn’t died. If I’d have to spend a night in an IHOP in any town, I’d say Fort Collins was a good one.

~Lisa Shafter

Money spent today: $16.02

Leeway so far: $118.03