In my junior and senior years at Overland High School in Aurora, I'd convince a buddy to ditch fourth period with me and walk a couple of miles to the Nine Mile Station. We'd take the H-Line to the 16th Street Mall, where we would walk up toward Civic Center and the State Capitol Building.
The first year I went, I remember stepping off the light rail and seeing people dressed as wizards walking barefoot toward Civic Center with a stream of smokers. The second year, when I crossed East Colfax Avenue, the first thing I saw was a tiny woman clutching a handle of Jack Daniel's in one hand and pouring a handle of Bacardi into her mouth with the other. (Not exactly a cannabis demonstration, but interesting nonetheless.)
That was in 2014 and 2015, when Colorado had just started recreational marijuana sales, so I probably caught the tail end of that period in the festival's history. Back then, the annual event was called the 420 Rally and was organized by a more politically focused group than today's Mile High 420 Festival, which is operated by the JARS dispensary chain. Both versions offered a music showcase, however.
The festival I saw on Sunday was a lot more tame, but not necessarily more lame. I didn't see any wizards, but I saw a "Peanut Butter Jelly Time" banana. No teenagers were there, as the festival now has a 21+ age limit, but the setup made everything feel safer and more tidy, with none of the litter and broken glass I remember from the old 4/20 events. I doubt I could've brought two handles of liquor in with me, but plenty of bars were set up under tents in the VIP area. The crowd also wasn't as packed together as it was during gatherings in the mid-2010s.
The event also costs money now. On Sunday, I paid a little bit more than $28 for general admission, and the VIP would have been more than $175 for access to those bars, quicker entry points and a meet-and-greet with the event's emcee, Tommy Chong. A decade ago, I don't think we even paid the light rail fare.
This was the first year it cost money to get into the Civic Center Park event, but the general admission ticket was worth the price. Sunday was my first time back since 2015, and the day still had some of the best parts of the festival I remember: The Capitol and Denver City & County Building were covered by a tide of smoke; people around me were dancing, smiling and, of course, smoking; and there was good music in the background. The main stage had headlining acts Bone Thugs-N-Harmony, Cordae and Conway the Machine, while a smaller stage showcased DJs and EDM music.
This Minnesota couple came to Denver to celebrate 4/20 at Civic Center Park on Sunday, April 20.
Bennito L. Kelty
The same spirit of celebrating cannabis was there, too, and plenty of people recognized how far 4/20 and the effort to legalize the plant have come. After the clock hit 4:20 p.m., Tommy Chong came up and talked about how "not that long ago, people were getting arrested at events like these.
"Look how far we've come," Chong said. "And we're not going back. It's only going to get better."
One festival-goer who asked to go by "Smoke" said he and his wife came from Minnesota to celebrate 4/20 in Denver because the city had always pulled off a major celebration.
"We would go to 4/20s in Minnesota or Wisconsin, and the police would always arrest people after or while it was going," he said. "But we always knew about Denver, and what they were doing. Now, Denver's got it going on. They've got all this music, all these people, everyone smoking, no one angry or trying to argue. Denver made a name for itself doing what it does on 4/20."
As a teenager, I would have been in trouble for smoking weed — even though weed was legal by then, you still had be be 21 — but we were always afraid to smoke weed at those old 4/20 gatherings, anyway, because cops lined the park. Although the 420 Festival isn't permitted for cannabis use, the city and law enforcement now largely let people celebrate without interference, with no citations for cannabis use inside festival grounds since JARS took over, despite plenty of joints being passed around.
The Mile High 420 Festival left me feeling lucky. By the time I was 21, recreational dispensaries were everywhere in Denver. I grew up just in time for legal weed; today, Denver is proud of how it celebrates 4/20. Although there have been a few bumps in the road, youth usage is down overall in Colorado since recreational legalization was approved in late 2012, according to state health department surveys, and the Mile High City is still an epicenter on 4/20 even as more states legalize.
The Mile High 420 Festival grew out of those foggy crowds that I was sneaking into ten years ago. I like thinking that I caught a glimpse of history — or at least a time that the festival will continue to remember. For better or worse, that kind of celebration isn't coming back.
