Popination Extrapolation
a series of unhinged personal essays disguised as pub reviews. Today: The Pondy.
In my Popination experience, it’s always a good idea to take a moment for cautious hesitation before going into a place that looks this rough, in a mountain town like Cedaredge. I wasn’t even sure I’d ever find a place to Popinate up there as it’s a small town and rather rough, with the one bar that any of my folks know about remaining closed since the plague. But I happened to come across a sign for this place on one of our shopping excursions, and it looked both welcoming, and like an absolute dive. In fact, the first thing my partner remarked as he dropped me off at its recessed wooden doorway was wondering if it was open. This is one of the premier criteria for what makes a dive bar, so that was already a good sign in my view.
Do we need a brief Dive Bar Dick criteria reminder? Here’s his explanation linked, and I also have referenced them a few times in my own Popination writings. The first two criteria are most relevant for most dives, IMO, but you can find all of them most extrapolated in my Moon Under Water correspondent piece, here.
So as much as I expected this place to look rather rough at the edges (and everywhere in between), I did take a bit more pause withal, before venturing there alone, more than I would at an unfamiliar Denver dive. I’m not sure why, other than I assume more people are packing heat in Cedaredge than down here (which is probably not even true, it just feels like it). But the sandwich board outside the condemned-looking facade extolled its friendliness inside, and so I told my fam to come get me in an hour just in case, and I ventured inside.
O little town of Cedaredge…
The rather Trumpy, country, and very small mountain town of Cedaredge is known for its apples and, well, cedars. It’s got elk and good art, surrounded by an amazing mesa landscape. It’s beautiful. But it’s not a resort. Cedaredge is a long long drive to the other side of the mountains from where we live in Denver (the Western slope, not the one that faces us when we’re looking at them in Boulder). And there’s some really cool history attached to the town, too, hardly any of which I can recall, but hey—no research in any of my Popinations pieces, remember?
Normally when we’re up there we stay mostly at my in-laws’, either in the guest room on the main side, or we take over The Other Side, and do most of our whiskey imbibing in the Space Between. But the inlaws are selling the place, and so my partner and his boys and I had to vacate briefly through the last afternoon of our annual Christmas visit so that they could show it. Whilst on the town, we visited:
the guitar shop
the art gallery (which also contains a café with some dynamite sandwiches and coffee)
the local gunsmith who nerded out so gloriously and completely over a family heirloom rifle of my partner’s that was shrouded in mystery as well as butted with some beautiful quilted maple…
and then I let the men go find snacks at WalMart whilst I trepidatiously entered the sanctum of The Pondy.
Outside, The Pondy really does look like it’s closed, or even condemned. The wooden door is deeply recessed in a wooden plank cove, up some worn wood steps besmoothened by many thirsty footsteps over the years. As the Dive Bar Dick always claims, it’s not really a dive bar unless your eyes need to adjust to dim light from outside, and that’s definitely how The Pondy was, as much as the Colorado sunlight did stream in through a couple windows in the entryway.
Inside, it’s pretty simple, and quite pleasant: a short old lacquer-over-coins bar surface past a couple pool tables (which when I got there were unoccupied). Apparently there’s also a nice sized patio out back, for warm days or just the smokers. Upon entering and letting my eyes adjust, I was greeted immediately by a lovely pub dog apparently named Bo, unless that’s spelled Beau, meaning a beautiful man. Which he very much was. And a Very Good Dog. That was my test with all the regulars, I could tell. The freeze and scan happened, and my reaction to Bo was apparently in my favor.
My blood pressure drops several points when I go into a dive bar like this, even one that’s unfamiliar. Even ones without a Very Good Pub Dog. Not sure why. I actually feel way more emotionally on edge and on guard when in one of the fancier places—maybe it’s the grungy dives where I still feel like I fit in best personality and background-wise, as much as I’ve gotten way more accustomed to the high life in recent times. It’s funny: my partner commented lightly and humorously just the other day that I’ve been writing about too many posh pubs lately; I need more dives in my Popinations library. Well the Pondy is one, to a T.
But their signage didn’t lie: as much as I noticed the couple of young women toughs eyeing my tattoos, overall I felt warmly welcomed, and, just like what I said I felt about the Dirty Duck in Denver, if I were closer and it were an easier trip to visit, I’d become a regular too, I have no doubt. I’d told my guys to come get me after an hour because I was playing it safe, but man I could’ve hung out there for hours.
You may think that Colorado doesn’t really have a regional accent (beyond the plethora of stoners saying duuuude), there’s a rural or mountain town twang here that’s very real. The Pondy’s regulars talked with it: older boozy gents talking about elk racks and also how annoying it is that the photo app on their iPhones changed so much so suddenly, without warning. Which. I was annoyed by that too recently, not gonna lie. So that’s fair.
As is my uzh when in a dive bar, I ordered a whiskey on the rocks, and was happy to see they had Jameson. So I settled in with my sipper and a club soda and enjoyed my surroundings and chatted with Bo’s handler, whose name I didn’t catch. None of the attention I received was rude, and none of it was creepy. It was just a homey hometown kind of place and yes, I did feel safe.
I don’t do research, but I had heard from my MiL that Pondy was *the* place to go in the town, and I’m surprised I hadn’t tried it long before. After all, we’re up there at least a couple times a year. Hopefully I can pop in and Popinate there again before the family faction moves elsewhere.
Ah, Cedaredge, we hardly knew ye. I’ll miss the town and especially the house once it’s sold. But then again there are very many other changes going on in the world right now, like a new administration (ugh), the oldest stepmonster going off to college after this school year, partner’s job sitch in flux and flow, and other personal life events, and etc. So it’s exciting times, mostly in good ways. And The Pondy is a comfort amid all of it.
Woke early to this in rainy, cold London. Wasn’t going to read as thought it wasn’t of interest but felt that was vaguely rude (?) so read it and was happily transported to another world and life for five minutes. I enjoyed your company.