Into Denver, Coda Coffee: Mile High

The train from San Francisco to Denver, was likely some of the most beautiful country I've ever seen. A 9:10 am departure from Emeryville, CA, Fri. May 18; brought us along the bay area for the better part of an hour, and into an ascent up the Sierra Nevada Mountains.                                                                                                                             I've got a handful more pictures to put up of that climb, as well as descriptions of my two favorite people aboard the train, two elderly men, who worked for a local railroad museum near San Francisco, along for the ride, to teach passengers about the history of the transcontinental railroad. Likely the most enthusiastic and lively individuals regarding trains in the entire U.S., as well as the most competitive, which made for the most informative and entertaining ride over the mountains and down into Nevada, as they bickered about facts and landmarks like six year old geniuses, before detouring above and around the Rockies, due to construction on the mountain tracks. Briefly Wyoming, and we were southbound into Denver, CO from the northeast. Slightly ironic, yet good for spotting buffalo, arriving in Denver Saturday evening, just after 5 pm. 

I was picked up by Tommy Thwaites of Coda Coffee, and driven to their roastery, just outside the city. Coda is a wholesale roaster, based in Denver, who has purchased coffee from Cuatro M, for four years now. They have been a big part of some of our community initiatives, donating much of their profits back to the communities that surround the farms where they purchase their coffee. They have named this project Farm 2 Cup and been active in visiting both the farm and local communities in not only El Salvador, but also Guatemala, and Honduras. 

I spent most of the evening, touring their roastery, brewing a Kenyan coffee in the Trifecta, and discussing a range of things related to not only their end of the business, but also the growing end, where Coda has begun looking into the development of organic fertilizers; and have shipped some down to Finca El Manzano in El Salvador, where we've been observing the results. 

We closed out the night in downtown Denver, touring the new kiosks and shops Coda has begun to open up throughout the downtown area. A new venture, but exciting to explore the possibilities within the cafe side of the industry. We eventually met up with Tim Thwaites at Mellow Mushroom. More awesome conversation commenced, along with laughter, which resulted in my eventual spraying of a mouthful of water all over both Tim and Tommy, (brothers by the way); not exactly the most charming gesture toward business partners, but none the less, an indication of how much I enjoyed the company and hospitality of these two guys. 

Hope it wasn't the last time I'll get to laugh at these two guys stories. I love the work their doing in Denver, and in El Salvador, and only hope that we continue this relationship into the future. 

for the real franny

i asked if you ever 

thought about 

the spiritual, 

and you said only the spiritual

was worth thinking 

about; 

i started with god,

but when you weren’t religious 

i wondered how to be spiritual 

without religion; 

and you said

it was more intuitive 

feeling, than rules 

and tradition

that I could simply love god 

and leave all

the rat racing

to the phonies 

in penn station, 

running mayhem,

as if

life was lived 

from the god damn 

front of the line;

besides, 

you had trouble thinking of god 

as a human 

or some form;

to you

the universe doesn’t care 

about one 

species 

over another

so i called you 

the next julia roberts, 

and you asked if you were 

as beautiful as the movies,

but we both knew the answer;

spooning vanilla yogurt 

with strawberries

like it was the one thing 

that kept us grounded, 

because we were, 

above it all, 

on some other roof top, 

in some other garden, 

from some other time frame,

with eyes out 

some other windows 

without doubt, nor fear

of being left behind,

of oblivion, 

in fact we welcomed it,

and swore with our

smallest fingers 

never to exit. 

some call it love, 

we called it home bound

and good company, 

the here and now 

the every day,

the should be would be 

could be if only, 

it were the right timing,

thank god it wasn’t  

lest we be too blind 

to see it 

as such. 

beautiful and the poor

on the platform 

we point lenses 

into air into light 

into darkness,

hunting rail 

and telephone lines, 

the lone buffalo 

and electric pole,

to fill spaces to catch eyes, 

to hold smiles

surrounding faces; 

we move 

with both feet 

to the rhythm of everywhere 

in the direction of emptiness; 

but running,

all the less,

to expanses, 

oceans 

and newness;

to quiet the taste of 

lost and restless

imprisoned,

at tongues end

when responding 

to the question 

are you happy. 

so spin it out,

literally, 

dance with our entire body, 

like i want to,

like you know better

underneath, 

an empty street, 

skyscraper,

prairie sky, 

at the immediately now, 

scream out, 

the undress me thoughts 

and the never be good enoughs, 

we cannot for christ’s sake 

empty my mind of;

and bathe 

so deep in humanness

eyes are merely hazel repentance, 

so that the beautiful and the poor 

no longer look like blue ribbons. 

may i not use the world 

but may i become 

useful to the world. 

color on color

wherever your 

two eyes 

look upon, 

that place, 

be it heavenly, 

be it nowhere; 

beautiful is

color on color,

painting canyons

within shadows, 

lifting breath

up from the barren, 

like blue into red 

and green out of yellow;

there is hope in lost 

and joy in never ending

through the cascades and briefly wyoming

San Francisco, CA: coffee town

A lot of catching up to do, and perhaps not the most productive in a hurry. Many thoughts to take away from a visit to the specialty coffee community of San Francisco; the number one city, in my opinion, in terms of carrying out and driving, what is happening in specialty coffee; more thoughts perhaps for a later time. 

On behalf of Cuatro M, I was able to visit with two Roaster/Cafes, Ritual and Sightglass Coffee Roasters; both big characters within the coffee scene of the bay area. 

Ritual, a current partner of ours, featuring coffee from Finca El Naranjo, a farm in Apaneca, ES that we have to privilege to work with and process coffee for. At their roastery and lab, I had the chance to cup all of their El Salvadoran coffee offerings; which were awesome to taste side by side; and listen to Steve, their green coffee buyer, narrate the story and characteristics of each farm and cup. 


With Sightglass, I had the chance to cup coffees out of Finca El Manzano; and talk about the potential for a relationship between our two companies. I spent much that Thursday with C.C., the green coffee buyer for Sightglass; and as he and I peddled to and from different cafes and shops; we sorted through the idea of how to bring newness to the industry; both at the shop and relationship level of the trade; trying to do more to translate the goals of objectives of a roaster/cafe into the actual cup tasting experience. 

A short but good stay in San Francisco, then out Friday morning, to the centennial state; for a visit with Coda Coffee Roasters in Denver.  

Sightglass Coffee Roasters: 7th ST

Ritual Coffee Roasters: Valencia ST. 

Alamo to Jack London, (and the faces that spell here and there)

 

Doug, fill those Marfat desert skies with a thousand love songs. Marry that girl, and love her like parents never taught us how.  even if solely, for the late night along San Antonio river walk; where we smoke too many cigarettes, and the rain falls hard on the umbrella-less; but by gol what-a-burger!

Ali, you are the desert ghost that never was, and always will be. Paint me the indian wilderness and i will make it home; you will reincarnate as my neighbor; and we will neither work, nor cease living. Until then, San Diego.

Hunter, why i didn't take a photo, i'll never know. but forever, now remember that they aren't necessary for those who only need the present. Good luck in alaska; save the Juno forests, and make park ranger botanist history.

Mike, David, Aunt Lory; no other span of almost two hours, has more been made of.

window seat to oblivion

 Near El Paso, Texas 

Approaching Tucson, Arizona

 Leaving Los Angeles, California

Santa Barbara, California 

Middle of nowhere, California 

Before San Jose, California

No one in Fort Worth is from Fort Worth

Departing Dallas...

15 minutes unmoved, I wondered how long we’d be in the Fort Worth station. The couple next to me said we’d be pulling out at 2 pm, which meant 45 minutes unoccupied.  

(One thing I love about train stations, is that cities were built around the rail road, and with no x-rays, or boarding groups; 45 minutes is 45 minutes; which, when placed within the center of town allows for sufficient time to accomplish an objective or two). 

My objective: coffee shop.

When I exited the train, I learned another truth. Amtrak employees are either angry, or extremely opinionated; and perhaps both. A thing I’ve noticed to bother me of late, and likely because I’m guilty of it from time to time; is when folks substitute an opinion or non-helpful statement for the answer to a question. 

Example:

(Exiting the train, with backpack, suggesting hopes of walking)
Me: The train leaves again at 2 o’clock right? 

(Leaning against bike rack, smoking a Marlboro Red)

Amtrak Employee: The train doesn’t wait; they’ll leave you.

Where a simple yes or no will do; dear humankind, use yes or no.

So instead, rather than sarcasm or anger, I resorted to ignorance; pretending to have an exhaustive list of things to accomplish. 

Conversation revisited:

Me: The train leaves again at 2 o’clock right?

Amtrak Employee: The train doesn’t wait; they’ll leave you. 

Me: Well, I was really hoping to get through the JFK memorial museum; do you know if they offer afternoon tours of the convention center? 

Amtrak Employee: Honey, it’s 1:20. 

Me: Wow, I better hurry huh! Thank you so much.

I wondered if she was enjoying her cigarette, and think she called me a smart ass as I turned my smirk to downtown; but I was open air, 40 minutes freedom, and thirsty. 

I spotted a kid out of Lords of Dogtown, and spoke loud enough for him to take an ear phone out to respond: “I’m not from around here, but there’s a Starbucks three blocks past the convention center, on your right.” Slightly baffled, I asked him where Main Street was, to which he laughed; commented on only visiting his sister, and pointed in the direction of somewhere. 

I continued my trek toward Main Street, conscious of time, and the unlikely chance of succeeding without the help of a local; neither of whom apparently, the woman scrolling her cellphone outside of Starbucks, nor the shoeless man sitting against the bank of america skyscraper, were. 

(No snob intentions, I was expressly looking for local shop, and had a deadline of 1:35 at which I'd give in to Starbucks for the sake of accomplishing objective). 

Last minute intersecting a cafe, named "Corner Bakery," I shuffled to the register, and $2.05'ed for a paper cup. 'Cafe europa' contained coffees from Asia, Africa, & the Americas, and tasting the most pleasing of the four, I wondered if a better name might have been 'cafe imperialism,' as I percolated a full cup of the dubbed 'rich and sophisticated' blend, and thanked a bus boy, cleaning a nearby countertop.  

Out the door, I set down my cup atop a street side trash can, spilling on my left, and grabbing my camera with right, hand; to take a few pictures of main street, and my first encounter with Fort Worth, the city of visitors.

Back to station, 1:47; I cheers'ed my cup in the direction of Lady Marlboro, and she back; and together we boarded, burying the hatchet with a chuckle and southbound to San Antonio.

Z. Cole's Graduation: May 12, 2012

Saturday, Zach Cole graduated from Dallas Theological Seminary, with a Masters in Theology. I got the chance to travel up and stay with him and Kayla for the weekend, as well as both of their parents, and Zach's brothers, Jared and Seth.

The neatest thing of all to see, was the pride displayed by Zach's dad, Tim, watching his son graduate from his own Alma mater; so when the the organ filled the air and Zach marched into the sanctuary with his red cape and tassel, and he teared up, I knew what true love for a son looked like from the outside. 

It's friends like these that remind us most of the goodness of grace. I tried, and likely did a bad job at communicating to Zach the lengths of thankfulness that I have for his part in my life; and on days when I feel self-pity for not having his caliber within my everyday; it is joy to think of the eternal quality of heaven; and I mean that.

And I think we both sense it in the awkwardness of a 'take care man.' There is nothing fluid within a goodbye to those one lives life most naturally, purely, with.

And so it was; as he drove back through downtown Dallas, to class, over the marked white 'x' in the highway, over the place JFK was shot a second time; and I entered the train station.