When you Google search the phrase “falling rock” you get my website – this one here – but you also get a result for the Falling Rock Tap House in Denver, Colorado. I’m happy to report that I visited the other Falling Rock last weekend.
The Tap House apparently got its name from the same source I did: namely, those ubiquitous Falling Rock signs you see along the mountain roads of Colorado. In my case, the name presented itself to me on a trip from Boulder to Crested Butte. After seeing signs advising me to watch out for falling rocks for six hours, I wondered if that was already the name of a national park. Turns out there is a Falling Rock Park in LaGrange, Kentucky where you can learn how to scuba dive, but no state or national parks.
I only learned about the Tap House after moving to Portland, making a trip unlikely. But, as fortune (and careful planning) had it, last weekend brought me to my soul bar.
The other patrons were a little weary of a guy taking pictures at a bar like a tourist at Disneyland, but no one complained. Live and let live at Falling Rock, whether it be a remote desert park or a LoDo bar.