When you wonder what makes Colorado a special place, you could turn your face toward the snow-capped, majestic Rocky Mountains. You could praise the deep sense of freedom and independence instilled in its people, or the quality of life they get to enjoy day in, day out.

Or you could watch the governor pick the strings of a banjo during one of the marquee days of his tenure.

On Tuesday, his second inauguration day, Colorado’s re-elected Democratic governor, John Hickenlooper, did just that.

Following a day full of symbolism, handshakes and photo ops, Hickenlooper (remember, the GOVERNOR) took the stage at the Ogden Theater — armed with a banjo and a slightly cracking voice. He joined the String Cheese Incident in their song “Rolling in my Sweet Baby’s Arms” while the sweet smell of clouds of marijuana smoke put the final touches on a unique sequence of American high-rank state politics.

Welcome to Colorado.

Hickenlooper — notorious for his love of music and craft beer — had left backstage whatever polished veneer of a politician he possesses.

Here — amid some of Colorado’s leading musical luminaries — stood a man feeling right at home, a man who — in his 60s — has conserved a boyish, genuinely excitable quiddity.

Hours earlier, on the stairs of the Capitol, Hickenlooper had used his inauguration address to remind himself and his audience of those wise words a passer-by once shared with him and that had become the quintessence of his first inaugural address four years ago: “Humility has at least two essential ingredients — it is knowing that any aspect of your life can collapse in an instant, and sincere gratitude that it has not.”

Here stood the other John Hickenlooper. The matured governor. The man who had come to realize that even the most unabashedly optimistic attitude can’t always beat the odds of the office.

“I attended more funerals during my first term than I had attended the rest of my life,” Hickenlooper said. And, “Four years ago, when I stood on these stairs as governor-elect, I knew enough to know I could never anticipate all of what was required of a governor, but I thought I had a pretty solid notion of what the job would entail. I was wrong.”

In a day and age when an apparent lack of honesty accelerates all political alienation, John Hickenlooper has always used his authenticity as his most valuable trump card. Here is a politician who speaks the language of the people, who takes public pride in abolishing negative campaigns, whose every speech is crafted as a pamphlet of “We, the People.”

But Hickenlooper has long learned that always speaking your mind and being the nice guy doesn’t necessarily equate finishing first.

During the course of his second term, contested campaign issues such as the Nathan Dunlap and gun-control controversies won’t disappear from his desk anytime soon. Coloradans left and right of the Front Range still don’t feel what on paper looks like a boosting economic recovery. Fractivists and energy corporations have not-so-silently called to arms for the next round of costly fights — despite a carefully negotiated truce designed to bring all involved parties back to the table. And the tone in the state Capitol will substantially change now that Republicans took over the Senate and all but closed the gap in the House.

More than ever, John Hickenlooper has to follow through on his promise to be the great conciliator.

That is Tuesday’s one inevitable truth: Once the ceremonial pageantry of inauguration day and its carefully crafted minutiae are in the books, the often grim and incalculable daily business of governing is lurking at the bottom of the night’s last bottle of beer.

With that prospect, who would not want to indulge in a few hours of craft brews and banjo music surrounded by friends?

Lars Gesing is the editorial intern at The Colorado Statesman. He covers Colorado politics with the true outsider’s perspective of a native German. Contact him at lars@coloradostatesman.com and follow him on Twitter @LarsGesing.