In the morning I awoke to the train clumsily arriving in Denver with the blood orange sun rising in the east. Most of the night was spent alternating between sleeping across the seat I commandeered next to mine or sitting upright, lazy boy style. Neither of those strategies were too effective.  On a bus ride to New York City some years ago I arrived at a stop in Philadelphia in the same sedated state and I still can’t decide if I can say I’ve been there or not.  Denver looks tyrannically boring. I had read it is best to get a seat in the observation car upon departure from the “Queen City.” Apparently everyone else read this as the car was packed full of geriatrics. A tour guide soon grabbed the mic to narrate our journey and it became apparent he planned to rant for some time. He informed us…