Rumor has it that Buffalo Bill was to the Buckhorn what Norm Peterson was to Cheers. But if hunting makes you queasy, don't enter this Denver landmark and taxidermy shrine, where more than 500 pairs of eyes stare down at you from the walls. The handsome men's-club look—with pressed-tin ceilings, burgundy walls, red-checker tablecloths, rodeo photos, shotguns, and those trophies—probably hasn't changed much since the Buckhorn first opened in 1893. The dry-aged,
prime-grade Colorado steaks are huge, juicy, and magnificent, as is the game. Try the smoked buffalo sausage or navy-bean soup to start.