50 States of Wonder
5 of Colorado's Least-Natural Wonders

In the early 1900s, a Lutheran church was built at 400 S. Logan Street in Denver. On April 20, 2017, after it was vacated by its previous congregation, the church reopened as a place of worship for the followers of a brand-new religion: “Elevationism,” dedicated to the spiritual benefits of cannabis. This may seem fitting in Denver, a city that is literally a mile high. The church’s overgrown, antiquated exterior contrasts with its flamboyant technicolor interior, which features a huge “WEED” sign, rows of pews to smoke on, and a neon rainbow mural on the ceiling, painted by the Spanish artist Okuda San Miguel. Elevationism does not have any specific dogma, nor does it require conversion from other religions, so long as its adherents recognize cannabis as a sacrament. (Read more.)

Running out of Fountain Creek in Manitou Springs, Colorado, Rainbow Falls is a waterfall tucked beneath a modern highway overpass. The water is natural, but the designs flanking it are decidedly not. Thanks to an ever-present coat of colorful paint, the site is better known as “Graffiti Waterfall.” Some hikers and waterfall enthusiasts find the graffiti off-putting, and the city has tried repeatedly to remove it. But it remains a popular site for photographers of all ages, families playing in the water, and rebellious teenagers climbing the bridge. (Read more.)

This 32-foot-tall sculpture, known as Blue Mustang, was built from polychromed fiberglass by Luis Jiménez. The artist installed the glowing red eyes as an homage to the neon workshop he worked in as a youth. Unfortunately, they've earned the sculpture a nickname: “Blucifer.” The sculpture was commissioned in 1993, two years before the opening of the Denver International Airport, but it took 15 years to complete and install. In 2006, a large piece of the sculpture broke loose and killed Jiménez, and his sons completed his work. Finally, in 2008, the artwork was installed at the entrance to the airport. Since then, it has been the subject of many complaints and conspiracy theories. (Read more.)

The quirky idea to create the largest sticker ball on the planet coincided with the first-ever National Sticker Day, which took place on January 13, 2016. The day honors R. Stanton Avery, who invented self-adhesive peel-off labels in the 1930s. The ball has topped 231 pounds, and keeps growing as people add more stickers. Initially, it was nicknamed SG, short for “Sticker Giant,” which morphed into “Saul,” in honor of the Breaking Bad character Saul Goodman. This giant hunk of adhesive paper has been officially verified by the Guinness Book of World Records as the largest in existence. It sits in the lobby of StickerGiant, a sticker maker in Longmont. (Read more.)

When Bredo Morstoel died in 1989, his grandson Trygve Bauge arranged for his body to be shipped to Trans Time, a San Francisco-based cryonics facility. Morestoel's remains were preserved while Trygve built his own cryonics chamber in Nederland, Colorado, where he lived with his mother, Aud. The family presumably hoped that science would one day find a way to reanimate Morstoel. Trygve's chamber was a sturdy shed packed with a steady supply of dry ice. When Trygve was deported for overstaying a visa and his mother left town under pressure from local officials, a caretaker became the custodian of the shed. The town now seems fond of this strange history: Since 2002, Nederland's spring festival has been known as Frozen Dead Guy Days in honor of “Grandpa Bredo.” (Read more.)