"Gritty, fun, disgusting, homeless, divey, jagged, rough, authentic, entertaining, beautiful, ugly."”

DENVER — I know somebody who has a Colfax tattoo. I know folks who won’t go anywhere near it.

Remember those corny word clouds that people put on t-shirts and cork boards inside recreation centers and classrooms back in 2010? The present-day Colfax Avenue word cloud would be astonishing, built solely on descriptors I’ve heard in both casual conversation and local reporting: Gritty, fun, disgusting, homeless, divey, jagged, rough, authentic, entertaining, beautiful, ugly.

The cloud would be an exhaustive, contradictory mess, with lovers and haters yelling at each other from both sides of the RTD bus.

I’m not here to scold or pat you on the back for your opinion of Colfax. I’m simply here to explain why its main drag is worth your time—if nothing else, you will leave with a mental log of a spot you’d like to go visit. They’re all pretty special. Let’s walk. 

Before we hit the heel-toe express, a glaring clarification needs to be made. Colfax Avenue is nearly 50 miles long.

From west to east, it begins at the foot of the mountains in south Golden, and ends at a rural intersection in Strasburg. Two different worlds, as far as I’m concerned.

We are not walking all of Colfax today. I don't have enough time, words, or cardio stamina for that. The stretch in question is the ~2.5 miles between Broadway and Colorado Boulevard: a powder keg of all that’s confusing and real—Denver’s metaphorical stomach, smack dab in the center of it all.

We start at the Colorado State Capitol, and thus, usher in a brief history lesson. In 1868, an adolescent Denver renamed its mostly residential Grand Avenue to honor Schuyler Colfax after the Vice President of the Ulysses S. Grant administration. Was it an ass-kissing maneuver to get national support for state initiative? Who knows, but Colfax is a cool last name, so we’re glad it happened.

The first twenty-or-so blocks of our journey is sensory overload, for better or for worse. It’s bursting at the seams with easy ways to feel alive.

The first worthy sight may reasonably be Cathedral Basilica of the Immaculate Conception—a towering, gorgeous holy space that shares its block of the street with a McDonald’s, some tents, a diner-turned-bar straight out of American Graffiti, sporting a new name and logo every year, and Bourbon Grill, a takeout joint that fills its styrofoam to-go plates so high they have to tape the lid shut.

We’re going to skip church and take a peek into Nob Hill Inn, perhaps Denver’s oldest dive (serving since 1937). It’s a no-frills watering hole that would make President Grant smile and likely give in to his urges.

This begins a trend of proper dives and unique eateries. Looking to belt “Faithfully” by Journey into a karaoke microphone? Go to Pete’s Satire Lounge on Colfax and Race Street, then sober up (or not) under a neon moon and a sloppy plate of heaven at Pete’s Kitchen next door. Catch a punk show by Weak Spell at Lion’s Lair a block down, then pop across the street for a Nuggets game at DNVR. Double back to 1UP for a couple games on a Pacman machine with high scores from the eighties on it, then stop into X Bar and bust a move at one of Colfax’s numerous LGBTQIA establishments.

Tired yet? Sure hope not. We’re getting a scoop of maraschino cherry ice cream at Colfax Cream, then a plate of al-pastor goodness at Park Avenue tacos (ice cream then tacos, in that order). We’re sitting on the sill outside EOD Tattoo and thoroughly considering, but ultimately deciding against an arm sleeve portrait of Schuyler Colfax. We’re playing bingo at Goosetown Tavern. We’re making friends at St. Paul Tavern. We’re scarfing Yebeg Alicha at The Ethiopian Restaurant and stashing country loaves from Good Bread before they sell out and gawking over sugar steaks at Bastian’s and praying to the shrine where Steve’s Snappin’ Dogs once held communion and goodness gracious we’re stopping to take a deep breath.

Apologies; I got excited. These things happen.

Let’s talk about the music scene. Colfax is a beacon of light for acts small, medium and large. Lost Lake, near our excursion’s eastern border, hosts a litany of up-and-coming musicians. The Ogden and Bluebird Theaters are, in my opinion, perfect venues hosting rock or r&b or down-home folk music and more. And then there’s the Fillmore, a chandelier-forward space on Colfax and Clarkson where I’ve personally seen both a Yeat concert that gave me tinnitus and also a live-taping of the Bill Simmons podcast. There’s a film center showing foreign films on top of a vinyl store, adjacent to a bookstore with a Vietnamese restaurant inside, all across the street from a high school. Colfax knows no bounds. 

It’s impossible to talk about this slice of Colfax without mentioning its two biggest talking points: A noticeable homeless population, and a construction project for a new bus route that won’t seem to end.

Concerning the former, take it up with the state instead of casting judgement on those experiencing homelessness, or Colfax Avenue itself—a conclusion that many seem far too comfortable with. Concerning the latter, consider the positives of an end result that aids those who use public transportation.

In the meantime, try and take full advantage of our state’s most eclectic stretch of commerce. I promise there is something for you.