A self-proclaimed bar rat and a self-evident introvert walk into the Whiskey Rose … and leave disappointed.
In January 2025, the Grizzly Rose, a prominent country bar and concert venue in Denver, bought out the Whiskey Baron and renamed it the Whiskey Rose. They reopened Friday, March 7, after closing early Thursday due to an issue with their liquor liability insurance, according to general manager Brian Taylor.
Whiskey Baron, in its previous form, was a Colorado Springs staple that opened its doors in 2017 and offered a more traditional honkytonk for country music fans.
The Whiskey Baron was known for its “College Nights.” Every Wednesday, the bar opened its doors to ages 18 and up and played line dance songs before switching to hip hop music at 11 p.m. They offered a place for college students to learn new dances and connect with the country dance community in the Springs.
With the acquisition of the Whiskey Baron, Grizzly Rose changed many aspects of the bar. While Wednesday nights still have line dance lessons, each participant will be charged $5 per lesson they attend, and only two lessons are offered each night. They are no longer offering college nights, but there are family nights on Sundays from 7 p.m. to midnight.
While the transition is fresh and Whiskey Rose needs some time to settle in, our first impressions weren’t strong.
Abigail Katharin | Self-proclaimed bar rat
1 out of 5 stars
I dance so often that I’m surprised I haven’t worn holes in my boots. For this Oklahoma girl, Whiskey Baron was familiar and a perfect western honkytonk. Whiskey Baron didn’t try to be Cowboys or Copperhead Road, the other two honkytonks in the Springs. Each venue offered something unique and authentic.
Copperhead is a club with a country music side and a hip hop side. Cowboys is a 3-floor country bar in downtown Colorado Springs. Whiskey Baron was a small venue with hardwood floors. Each bar had something different to offer.
Whiskey Rose is cosplaying as a honkytonk, and if the Grizzly Rose management doesn’t figure out how to bring authenticity to the bar, they won’t survive.
If you go, don’t drink. I paid $17 for a double whiskey sour with Jack Daniels in it, a normal price for Denver, an outrageous price for the Springs. The Coors Light I ordered was $6. For a beer brewed an hour and a half away from the Springs, I expect a cheaper price tag.
Whiskey Rose needs to learn its clientele. Colorado Springs is not full of Denver transplants willing to pay outrageous prices for a night out. The Springs is home to active-duty military, veterans, families and college students. We need something that feels like a homegrown honkytonk, not a corporate experiment.
Grizzly Rose promised improvements to the space, but they just made it tacky. The mechanical bull feels like it was stationed as a quick money grab. $10 for a ride? I already paid a $10 cover. Cut the fee in half.
Trying to replicate Grizzly Rose in Colorado Springs doesn’t work. Installing massive screens behind the stage in Whiskey Rose makes the space feel smaller. The screens bounced around the logo of the band during the entirety of their set. The band playing Friday night even seemed like they missed Whiskey Baron. Early in their set, the lead singer said, “How you doing, Whiskey Baron!?”
Traditionally, honkytonk lighting is brighter on the dance floor and darker on the sides. This allows dancers to be able to see each other and avoid dance floor collisions. By lighting the outskirts of the bar and darkening the dance floor, Whiskey Rose has created an uncomfortable lighting environment — it felt icky.
And they killed my lap. “The lap” is a treasured bar tradition in which a single person or a group walks a loop around the entire bar. It gives one a chance to discover and be discovered, as well as pinpoint people in the bar they’d rather not talk to.
While Whiskey Baron was laid out like a track, allowing for a perfect lap, Whiskey Rose enclosed the space behind the stage and cut off the ability to walk around the bar. Instead of a full route, I’m left with a horseshoe shape in which I bounce back and forth like a boomerang.
Save your money—go to Cowboys. Go downtown on a Wednesday night and pay $10 for unlimited drinks until midnight.
Ellie Myers | Self-evident introvert
2.5 out of 5 stars
To start us off, I am not a bar person, let alone a honkytonk person.
For one thing, I don’t drink, so my options are more limited. I’m also not a big fan of huge parties with lots of people — too loud, too much going on. Recently, though, I’ve been challenging myself to go out more, and when I’m with the right people, I have a good time.
I only went to Whiskey Baron on college night twice before it changed ownership, and both times, I enjoyed myself more than I expected to. I liked that they taught dances there and that there was a good mix of line and partner dances. They also made a mean Shirley Temple.
On Friday, I walked into a bar with dimmed colorful lights over the dance floor, giant screens behind a live country band and a mechanical bull. Somehow, all of that made it less exciting.
It was like walking into the same space, but a piece of it had died. They dimmed the lights over the dance floor and turned them slightly up over people sitting at the tables along the side, which is not how that should work. People who are taking a break from the dance floor should be able to take a break from the spotlight.
The screens displaying a giant Whiskey Rose logo at the front of the dance floor were working too hard to promote a place that already had a good following before the ownership changed. Everything about the changes screamed “REBRANDING” and gave the night an odd sense of false corporate enthusiasm rather than the genuine excitement I felt both other times I was there.
The live band below the screens was quite good. It would have been nice to hear more because they only played for about 20 minutes. The rest of the time, I kept hearing music, then realizing that it was coming out of the speakers, and they were just standing there.
The dance floor was mostly dead, and the dim lighting didn’t draw many people toward it. Before, the dance floor was the center of the energy, glowing with the brightest lighting and a group of people dancing in unison (or close enough, in my case).
A few times, a group of people started doing a line dance they all knew, but it was never more than about 20. As someone who doesn’t know most of the dances, I feel a lot more self-conscious trying to join in when I stand out more in a crowd of fewer people.
The mechanical bull sat pitifully in the corner under perhaps the lowest lighting in the whole room, next to the bathrooms. I would have thought changing ownership would mean they would pay more attention to things like animal neglect.
One thing I did that I hadn’t before was order food, which was about the best part of the whole experience. They primarily offer wings and pizza, with a couple of salads and side options. I got 8 buffalo wings, a side of fries and a Shirley Temple for a grand total of $17.
The wings were good, the fries were a good level of crispy, but I would have liked them saltier. The Shirley Temple tasted the same, but there was a whole lot less drink and a whole lot more ice. If I were to go again, though, I’d just eat at home first to save the money.
Maybe in a few months, Whiskey Rose will find their footing. In the meantime, for folks like me who have a hard time getting out anyway, let’s see if the people who know how to party liven it up a little bit before we try this honkytonk again.
Graphic courtesy of KOAA.