Monday, July 13, 2015

Golden Bridgewater

There's No Bridgewater in Colorado. Except that there is.

Followers of this blog will know that our ambition is to visit every place we can get to that is named Bridgewater, and that this has so far included towns by that name in many U.S. states. We hope eventually to get to Bridgewater Nova Scotia and of course to the original Bridgewater in Jolly Ol' England.

When planning a family outing to the Front Range region of Colorado and (relatively) nearby parts of the Great Plains, we of course started scouring the maps for towns named for our own. We found no such towns in Colorado, Wyoming, or Nebraska.

Careful readers will remember, however, that non-municipal places also count, such as the subdivision we visited in Maryland in 2013. So the Bridgewater Grill in Golden, Colorado went into the "must-do" column for this vacation. We are delighted that it did, not only because it turned out to be a very nice place, but also because of the aplomb with which an old friend joined us in the discovery.



Lori is a friend from our undergraduate days who has been living in Denver for some while. We were very glad that she was able to join us for the first day of our visit, first taking us to one of her favorite Mexican restaurants and then to the wonderful Denver Art Museum (tagline: DAM, That's a Great Museum). In the early evening, we decided it was time to go on a Bridgewaters Project adventure. From the address, Lori guessed that it might be in the beautiful old Golden Hotel, and she was correct (though an employee who answered the phone is somehow getting to work without noticing the hotel that surrounds it).

At this point, I should mention that Lori is a clown. Really: after regular college, she went to clown college, and has been a professional clown in a variety of settings, including therapeutic. But even when she is not officially "in clown," she is a wonderful prankster, and it comes naturally to her. So when the hostess greeted us, Lori asked her "Have you heard of the Bridgewaters Project?" in a way that really implied she should have known about this blog. None of the staff seemed to know quite what to make of us, but they were very gracious as we proceeded to take pictures of stationery and pose for photographs in places that normal guests would not.
LtoR: Blogger, Blogger, Promoter
Having had rather a late lunch, we did not order full meals at Bridgewater Grill, but we do hope to arrive hungry next time, because everything looked delicious, and we very much enjoyed the snacks we did have. James had a Caesar Salad that was delicious and much closer than usual to the original recipe. Paloma and Lori had desserts and Pam had some tomato bisque. We all shared bites of those desserts, and they were fabulous. The best peach cobbler we ever tasted as a matter of fact!

Our arrival in Denver had been on an unusually wet day -- and we had a bit of a downpour just as we had gotten to Bridgewater Grill. For this reason, we did not avail ourselves of the lovely outdoor dining area that overlooks a small ravine and Clear Creek, a tributary of the South Platte River. I went to the window to have a look at the scene though, just as I was wondering aloud how this place got its name. As soon as I clicked this photo, I had my answer.
What's this place called again?
We left the restaurant very satisfied, and determined to relieve the staff of their puzzlement by sending a link to this blog post. Our adventure ended, we made our way back into Denver and did a few errands on the way to our hotel. Lori pointed out a gas station where she had recently had outstanding service, and we pulled in. While the three of us sat in her vehicle, we were startled by a rapping on the window.

It was Lori with the attendant, a young woman who put on her best fan-girl persona to ask us, "Are you really part of the Bridgewaters Project?"

After watching our prankster friend work the restaurant staff, we ourselves were pranked!

Lagniappe

The Bridgewater Grill is not a town, but at least it is a place. A discovery later in our travels pushes the scope of this blog even a bit further. At one of the many cute little shops in the Old Town section of Ft. Collins, we found this candle. It is the eponymous variety of a candle company by the same name. It will live in James' office, since he could not not buy it, even though Pam's scent sensitivities preclude using it at Casa Hayes-Boh.
Notice the bridge. Notice the water.