Mini Tour
A Denver Tropical Vacation
Wipe out winter's woes with a walk through some mile-high indoor tropics
By Lori Midson
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Downtown Aquarium
Photo: ©Landry's Restaurants Inc.
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The temperature hovers just above freezing on this winter day in Denver, and Elliott, my six-year-old son, traipses out of his bedroom sporting flippers and SpongeBob SquarePants swimming trunks. In one hand he's dangling a snorkel, in the other his goggles. He's just returned home from a holiday in Florida, and judging from the beach ensemble he clearly hasn't pressed his nose against the window to view the wonderland of snow that fell the night before.
Or maybe he has, but like most six-year-olds he believes Mommy can somehow perform a magic act—make the shores of the Florida coastline suddenly appear. Either way, I know I'm in for a battle—unless I can convince him that beyond the blanket of white powder lies a tropical summertime paradise.
Ah, but I have warm weather tricks up my sleeve—and they don't include airfare, baggage or reservations.
Skeptical? True, winters in the Mile High City are renowned for their snow poundings, and at first glance, the frosty landscape lingering outside certainly doesn't speak summer fling, but look past the slushy streets and snow shovels and you'll encounter a goldmine of tropical discoveries to cure the winter blues.
This month's Mini Tour spotlights four family-friendly spots in and around Denver that chase away the chill: the Denver Zoo, the Butterfly Pavilion & Insect Center, the Downtown Aquarium and the Denver Botanic Gardens.
Armed with a full day's itinerary, I kneel down beside Elliott and explain in a chipper voice that the swimming pools are on vacation. His eyes narrow, and he looks for confirmation from his daddy, who nods solemnly in agreement. Before the wails can erupt, I smile brightly and deliver the good news that we're heading to the zoo instead. It takes just one word—“bats”—before the swimming trunks and sea toys are discarded for shorts and his favorite summertime shirt.
Denver Zoo's Tropical Discovery
At the risk of being labeled an unsuitable mother, I accept my towheaded son's insistence on beach duds. There's a coat in the car. And his clothing is ideal for touring the zoo's Tropical Discovery area, an indoor rainforest that winds past waterfalls, darkened caves, spectacular coral reefs, swamps, and the world's largest Komodo dragon exhibit.
We breeze through the cool, crisp air toward the humid jungle, just a short jaunt from the zoo's entrance. On the way, we pass frolicking sea lions, lazy zebras and myriad other animals, but Elliott is on a mission. It's bats or bust.
Here I have a confession. I don't like bats. Or the dark. Neither my husband nor my son takes this into consideration as we pull the doors open to Tropical Discovery, but the balmy warmth instantly subdues my shivers. As my eyes adjust to the lighting, I'm transfixed by fish—thousands upon thousands of kaleidoscopic freshwater and marine fish swimming in a 2,250-gallon cerulean blue tank.
“Mommy,” shouts Elliott, breaking my trance, “it's just like Florida!”
I wonder aloud if there are bats in Florida . Elliott calls me a wimp. I bypass the bats and instead gasp in awe at the gigantic turtles gracefully maneuvering their way through the water.
Elliott tells me that I missed out on the “awesome bats,” but as we walk through the spectacular swath of rainforest and come nearly face-to-face with the world's largest lizard—a Komodo dragon in his 5,500-square-foot, glass-encased home—my son stops dead in his tracks.
“Stay away, Mommy,” he yells. “He might eat you.”
Despite the barrier, I keep my distance. We watch the behemoth reptile for several minutes. Elliott quips that the dragon would make a great pet. I warn him that Mr. Komodo eats bats, along with anything else that lives on land or water, including, I remind him, Mommy.
We leave on a somber note, with Elliott worried that his mother might get eaten before we make it to the gift shop, but once we purchase an astonishingly blue fake snake, he forgets all about me. Elliott names his snake Roscoe and we're now a family of four.
Butterfly Pavilion
While there are no Komodo dragons, snakes or bats at the Butterfly Pavilion and Insect Center , there are black widows, tarantulas, beetles, bees, and a bevy of butterflies.
Located in Westminster, a 15-minute drive from downtown Denver, this stand-alone insect zoo is the perfect indoor refuge in which to interact with live invertebrates fluttering around a lush rainforest, or to hold Rosie, a Chilean Rose Hair tarantula, in the palm of your hand—if you dare.
Elliott does, and loves every minute of it.
I'm more interested in the neighboring honeybees, millipedes and more, all on display in the Crawl-A-See-Em exhibit, the first of many adventures you'll encounter here.
Having had our share of creepy, crawly things, we venture over to The Water's Edge, a petting tank bobbing with sea stars, sea cucumbers and stingrays. Elliott declares he'd like to have a stingray. I tell him the bathtub isn't large enough and suggest a goldfish instead.
He pouts, but his mouth widens into a grin as soon as we enter the Wings Over the Tropics conservatory, home to more than 1,200 flitting butterflies, moths and skippers. The winged insects begin their life here as chrysalids (or cocoons)—shipped from farms as far away as Kenya and Ecuador—to complete their cycle of life. A wander through the toasty conservatory, awash with lush green plants, is intoxicating. For kids it's also a dynamic educational experience with displays describing the different characteristics among the moths, skippers and butterflies. Color charts help identify the various species.
Elliott is thrilled when butterflies land on his shoulder, but is warned not to touch them: the oils from your hands can contaminate their senses, making it difficult for them to find food. On your way out, you might come nose-to-nose with a turtle or a thankfully docile iguana lounging lazily in a tree. I think I may like reptiles after all.
Before leaving the Pavilion, stop by the Shrunk! exhibit, an interactive play area with insects and giant robotic scorpions and carpenter ants that move. Inspect the information charts, and you'll learn that beetles comprise one-fifth of all living things on Earth. Who knew?
Downtown Aquarium
Knowing that time is ticking, and we still have two more excursions today, I drag Elliott away from the larger-than-life scorpion with the promise that he'll get to feed the stingrays at the Downtown Aquarium. As we navigate the traffic along the Boulder Turnpike toward Denver, Elliott points to a bald eagle gliding overhead. It's just one more of the many inspirations we'll come across that day.
At the newly renovated Downtown Aquarium, located just off I-25 in the central city, inspirations come in all guises, but the main draw is the 500 species of fish and marine life swimming in more than one million gallons of water. Elliott is mesmerized by the sea critters, and regretful that he didn't wear his flippers after all. I tell him that flippers aren't particularly conducive to sightseeing. For once, he doesn't argue. Instead, he begins reciting lines from Finding Nemo, and wonders if there's sunken treasure to be found.
We slowly make our way through the exhibits, traversing a coral lagoon, rainforests, North American wilderness, and Sumatran tiger habitat. Before we reach the end of the line, we find a treasure chest—not sunken, but in plain view. Elliott crawls all around it checking for loose loot. Alas, there is none. He grumbles under his breath, but knows the stingrays are right around the corner, past the shipwreck and wharf.
It costs $2 to feed the rays, but it's worth it to watch them dive in droves for their food as your child gasps in glee while getting sloshed with water.
If feeding the stingrays incites hunger pains of your own, visit the Aquarium restaurant, which boasts a 200,000-gallon tropical fish tank as its centerpiece. If you're lucky, you may see a scuba diver feeding the fish. If you don't, I learned that a game of “I Spy” works wonders for filling the time while waiting for a table.
Denver Botanic Gardens
There's no wait to enter the Boettcher Memorial Tropical Conservatory at the Denver Botanic Gardens. In fact, we nearly have the humid ecosystem to ourselves, which is fine, because it means that Elliott can run around to his heart's content. He stops on the bridge to look at the lily pond glistening with goldfish, before ascending the wooden stairs to peer at the greenery below—a virtual forest of macadamia, papaya, coffee, cacao (chocolate) and banana plants—and much more. In between learning from the plants' labels, we also discover that this is a terrific place to play hide-and-seek.
As I stand there counting to 10 while Elliott picks the perfect hideout, I luxuriate in the surrounding steam, surprisingly content that the welcome mat outside the doors is dusted with snowflakes…Ready or not, here I come.
Denver native Lori Midson is the restaurant critic at Colorado AvidGolfer magazine, a frequent contributor to Sunset magazine, and the Colorado-based book editor for the Zagat guides.
Planning Your Trip Denver Zoo. 2300 Steele St.; 303-376-4800.10am–5pm daily.
Butterfly Pavilion and Insect Center. 6252 W. 104th Ave.; 303-469-5441. 9am–5pm daily.
Downtown Aquarium. 700 Water St.; 303-561-4450. 11am–10pm Sun.–Thurs. and 11am-11pm Fri.–Sat.
Denver Botanic Gardens. 1005 York St.; 720-865-3500. 9am–5pm daily.
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