This is our first serving of a semi-regular post about a mountain bar of note...or at least disrepute.
We stop in Georgetown for a beer on our way back from Loveland. Downtown, the normally reliable Red Ram is shuttered, with a for-sale sign in the front window. So much for that idea. So we head to the only other visible bar in town, Mother's Saloon.
It's Taco Tuesday at Mother's, with 75 cent tacos, and PBR drafts are just $2. A sparse collection of dollar bills hangs from the pressed tin ceiling, above a pool table and a pinball game. A sheep's head watches over things from the opposite wall, next to a buffalo's head in a Santa cap. The Green Mile plays on the big-screen TV.
A waitress stops by our post at the bar on her way to the taco station. "You want some cookies?" A Styrofoam plate of cookies appears to my right. "How about some popcorn?" A paper boat of stale popcorn appears at my left.
She tells me that the Friday special is meatloaf: "You just got to show up because he makes something different every night. We also have hamburgers and tacos and pizza, I think."
We order a second round of PBRs and mix with the locals, a few of whom are coming back from the slopes at Loveland. "You work today?" someone asks. "Was it crowded enough up there?"
The owner comes over and tells me that this building has been a bar at its current location on Clear Creek for a decade, but that in the preceding decades it moved all around Georgetown. "It's been a school, an army barracks, an antique store. It's been lots of things."
I finish my PBR, looking at the assorted license plates and Broncos and Budweiser ephemera on the walls alongside a "Make Love, Not War" poster. "There were little kids trying to convert us," I overhear.
Glasses empty, I try to pay with a credit card, but am directed to the ATM instead.
Mother's Saloon, 601 14th St., Georgetown, 303-569-2080.
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