Locked In

It was Sunday so we had a nice lie in and I was so grateful Dan didn’t have to work. We had all day today to get organized. Dan took off an hour before us so he could have a head start getting his gear together so Cleo and I enjoyed one last walk along the Buena Vista trails.

It was about noon when I showed up to the hill and saw Dan perched on the front deck of his trailer, his bag packed and ready to rock and roll. He’d parked the Club Wagon neatly next to his trailer so we didn’t hang around. He locked up then came over to Berta. He was moving in with us. A big step.

I’d been looking forward to being a passenger for a while so Dan drove us towards Colorado Springs. I haven’t done a drive yet in Colorado that isn’t pretty and this was no different. The single-lane highway took us through pines and cliffs, descending slightly into town. I looked up every now and then but I was focussed on my Atlas and phone to find us a decent camp for the week.

At Woodland Park, we stopped at a City Market for a quick shop, then on to a rest area to make sandwiches. As I walked Cleo around a vacant lot, I realized that the mountain behind me was Pikes Peak! The very reason we were here! Not only that, but we could see the road cut into the steep hillside. How exciting!

We still had most of the afternoon and didn’t want to head into the “Springs” just yet so we ventured out on Rampart Range Road to look for camp options. Bloody hell it was rough going with some nasty washboard sections and we kept thinking that maybe Rampart Reservoir was closed because there was such a stream of traffic coming the other way. It wasn’t, it was just end-of-Father’s-Day-weekend traffic.

We paid $10 at the gate to Rampart Reservoir and I was disappointed not to even get a map! No point looking at the campgrounds or the picnic area because they’d be crazy busy so when I saw a sign for a boat ramp, I declared that we should go there. Entertainment value is always high at a boat ramp!

A security guard greeted us at the entrance to the dam crossing and we thought we were going to get turned away but he just asked if we’d been here before. He gave us the rules about no stopping on the dam or going within 500 ft of it and then made it very clear that the gate he was standing at would be locked at 5pm SHARP! I then asked what would happen if we didn’t make it and he said we’d be spending the night. I then asked if we were allowed to stay the night and he said “technically no…”. Dan then asked what time the gate opened in the morning and he said 7am. We then said, ok great, thank you and he said, no worries, have a great time, happy Father’s day!

We looked at each other as Dan drove us slowly across the dam. We were staying the night right? Right. 

The parking lot was mostly full but we found ourselves a spot. We couldn’t believe what we were seeing. It was 3:30pm and people had some pretty established camps. I couldn’t imagine them all getting out by 5pm. No swimming or wading allowed here either which was weird. Boating and SUP-boarding only apparently. When the boat-inspection lady came over to us, she was surprised we’d been let in because “conversion vans” often weren’t allowed for security reasons. She then mentioned the 5pm cut-off time. Hmmm.

We posted up across the lake on our picnic blanket to while the rest of our afternoon away and appreciate the views of Pikes Peak. Sure enough, we got some great entertainment as 5pm neared.

We lost a bit of nerve when we saw the security vehicle come over the dam with twenty minutes to go, stopping every car that was heading out. Maybe he was coming over to do final checks? No, we eventually figured out he’d closed the gate and came over to get the boat lady, then he went back, re-opened the gate and people drove out.

It scared us enough to pack up our shit and make it look like we were planning to leave, then as 5pm ticked ever closer, we stayed up in the trees like hideaways watching as the last couple of cars scrambled to get their gear packed and drive over the dam.

It was 5pm, the last car had left the car park. We were committed now. Dan has better long distance eyesight than me so he commentated on the security vehicle’s movements and he was gone at 5:05pm. Never mind the massive blue van in the car park.

Ha ha! We spent the rest of the evening enjoying the SHIT out of our private lake. We talked a little about the potential consequences, but bugger it, they would come in the morning.

After taking a tour around the car park, then wandering down the pier, we settled in on the shore to relax. I turned Starlink on and called Kevin while Dan soaked up the sun and Cleo shunned herself away in the trees not wanting to be near the water.

When the breeze died down for a moment and Kevin needed fifteen minutes to deal with some stuff at home, I stripped off and jumped in. No one was around to enforce the no swimming rule! How refreshing it was!

I was surprised when Dan did the same when he’s usually so averse to freezing cold water. 

Back on the phone with Kev and Cleo was all cuddles until it was time to retreat to the van.

It was getting a little too cold to be out and we were perfectly parked to enjoy the sky changing color.

We had a few struggles with the gas system, but we soon got them sorted after I confirmed that we were not out of propane and Dan made us a lovely dinner.

Tech Inspection

I was up at 5am to get some Monday-morning work out of the way and Dan was up at 6:30am in preparation for the 7am gate opening. We were watching the clock with one eye, but the first movement crept up on us with three trucks roaring into the car park. None of them looked official – they were just keen fishermen eager to beat the crowds!

We drove out straightaway with our story ready – I’d gone for a mountain bike ride and not made it back in time for the gate closure. We figured that driving out right when the gate opened would make us look less guilty. Well, the security guard (different from last night) couldn’t have cared less. We explained that we’d missed the cut-off and were very sorry and he just told us about the emergency phone we could have used to get broken out and that he didn’t mind one bit. We thanked him profusely then drove on out, laughing at our slyness. What an experience!

Our early start meant that we were at the Broadmoor World Arena in CO Springs right on time for Tech Inspection Day. This was the day that all 62 vehicles entering the 102nd Pikes Peak International Hill climb were inspected for legality and where all competitors registered for the event. Free and open to the public, this would be our only chance to see the cars up close.

We posted the van up in the shade of a big car park for Cleo then walked right over, we didn’t want to miss a minute! People were still getting set up but there was already one car in line for its inspection and others coming out of trailers.

I made a beeline for the merchandise tent and was happy to be their first customer of the event. I walked away with a shirt for me, Dad, Dan, Nick and Dave. They were so impressed with us that they gifted me with last year’s key ring. We wandered up and down the inspection lane a little then retreated back to the van for breakfast.

When we saw other people taking their dogs and chairs over to the inspection area, we decided we’d do the same. I posted us up in the shade where all the cars posed for a photo at the end of inspection. I put the picnic blanket down for Cleo and she seemed happy with that.

I couldn’t sit still so I went back over to the inspection lane where things were picking up a bit. I bought a program ($10) and talked to the radio station booths about who would be broadcasting the commentary on race day. Thanks Dad, I had my trusty AM tuner ready for Sunday!

I really started enjoying myself when I saw the Ford F-150 Lightning in the queue. You could hardly call this thing a car it was so radical in its aero design. With a bunch of engineers standing around with nothing to do but wait, I got chatting with one of them and found out the car was built in Austria, had three power units and was so ridiculously huge because the wheelbase and front/rear dimensions had to match those of the production F-150 truck. Insane. You could tell this guy was proud of what his team had worked on and rightly so.

When I had to go back to work, I couldn’t bear the thought of being away from the action so I went and drove Berta straight into the inspection area, parking modestly along the back and out of the way of the competitor’s trailers. I still had a full view of the photo shoot area. Perfect.

By the time I got back to Dan, another guy had posted up next to us and he ended up being a great companion. Brad had been involved in the hill climb for years as a member of multiple race teams and this was to be his first year as a spectator. He gave us all sorts of advice and provided a running commentary of the teams he knew.

The whole day was just such a relaxed affair and everyone was on for a chat. We met the crew from Buena Vista running a Porsche and talked shit to the crew who had about five different photos taken wearing different sponsor t-shirts each time.

Things really got exciting when Dan saw Dani Sordo’s name in the program. I’d flicked through to see if there were any names I recognized and I’d missed his! Dani Sordo is a great WRC driver that deserves a full time drive and I’m a huge fan. Once the three Hyundai trailers were onsite, we were on full alert looking out for him.

Later in the afternoon, I went over to the Broadmoor Arena to use the bathroom and who else should I see in line to pick up his credentials but Dani himself? I went to the bathroom first to build up some courage then approached him in line with, “Can I say hello? I’m a big fan and I wish we saw you in a car more.” He stuck his hand out straight away and I gratefully shook it as he said hello and thank you. I wished him luck for the weekend then said goodbye. I think I might have floated out of the building.

As I walked back to Dan, he was in full conversation with Brad, but he knew by my big smile and me holding my hand out that something had happened. I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face for the next hour.

When the Hyundai cars all passed through inspection, I got chatting to one of the engineers as they waited for photos and he was excited to have the inspection over with. Moments later, Dani was on the scene and he talked to our dog! He said, “Woo, hot dog!” Cleo was happily asleep in the shade and not panting so I didn’t take it as a dig. I guess we’re best friends now!

When the Hyundai team photos were happening, Dan positioned himself to get a great shot of Dani with Berta in the background. She almost looked like part of the outfit!

That marked the end of the day for us. It had been a long, hot day but it had been well worth it. We felt like diehards. Apart from Brad, we were the only fans who’d been there all day.

Now for the hard bit. We did a bunch of shopping, getting Cleo some supplies, then onto the supermarket, then onto an REI for binoculars which Brad advised we must have. After that, we still had to find camp. We were all tired, hot and emotional, but we kept our spirits up at every “no camping” sign we found.

We ended up at Cheyenne Canyon and I had dinner on the table by 8:30pm. The Canyon was open for visitors from 5am – 9ppm and we debated different options, including driving back up to Woodland Park, but we decided we should start our urban camping career.

That we did. After dinner, we packed up the van, took Cleo on a walk, then ventured out into the nearby streets to find a flat spot that was as inconspicuous as we could get for a big blue van. Dan did wonderfully and parked us up who knows where – I was already in bed!

Captain Jacks

Dan was up early to move us back to Cheyenne, he didin’t want us to overstay our welcome and fair enough. He parked us up in one of the many car parks in the Canyon then went back to bed as I set up to work.

When he was up, I moved us over to the toilet car park which had a bit more shade. We were on for another hot day today and with a ride planned in the afternoon, we were conscious of keeping Cleo cool.

The highlight of our “work day” was the long walk we took on the opposite side of the creek which took us all the way up to a reservoir (Colorado Springs has a lot of them) and back down again. We saw a few mountain bikers and other hikers but mostly had the place to ourselves and the views were pretty impressive, especially looking back towards the canyon.

Back at base, we were grateful for the creek and Cleo made the most of it. I dropped into the visitor’s center to find out more about a climbing permit and I was disappointed to be directed to a QR code. I thought you were meant to talk to people at a visitor’s center? Thankfully the permits were free and just meant to make sure you knew what you were doing.

At 3pm, I stopped work for the day and we geared up for a ride. Knowing Cleo, we had to take her for a mini-jaunt before the proper ride and she was in her element. Our first family ride in a long time, I was smiling ear to ear to see Dan and Cleo side by side on the trail.

She dunked herself in the creek when we got back and Dan reparked the van to make sure it would be properly shaded for the rest of the afternoon. She was pooped and happy to see us go.

We met Chris in a car park across the creek and got straight into catching up as he got his bike ready. We’d met him two winters ago when he’d given us a tour of SRAM. They were no longer his employer but he was still as keen about riding as ever. I gave him shit about all the electronic features of his bike (derailleur and seat post) and he dished it straight back giving me shit about the “knitting” on the bars of Scottie. Ha!

We rode up the same trails we’d walked that morning, talking most of the way about life in the US, bikes, travels and our mutual mate Ross. The riding was lovely and turns out we’d be climbing nearly seven miles into the mountains but you’d never know it the grade was so gradual and the single track so inviting.

We stopped often to catch our breath and talk some more and got just a few tastes of downhill glory on our run up to Gold Camp Road. The views were stunning and we weren’t anywhere near the top.

A short ways along Gold Camp Road, Dan had to call it. He hadn’t brought his knicks and his butt had lost all feeling. I didn’t like to separate but he was happy to make his way down while Chris and I continued on upwards.

It was a good decision by Dan because we spent the next mile or so grinding in the saddle. As we approached a saddle surrounded by pines, it became obvious we were at our peak. This was the entry to the infamous Captain Jack’s trail that Ross had highly recommended. There were a few others around and we chatted a while, then we started our descent.

Well, it is one of the best trails I’ve ever ridden. I had a mouthful of dirt by the end because I was smiling and whooping the whole way down following Chris’ dust. We came across one dirt biker and I almost thanked him because the whoops we rode along were formed by riders like him. It flowed fast, the corners had camber and the sand made you hold on for dear life.

We came out back on Gold Camp Road and I was beaming as we cruised down. With Chutes up next, I’d seen the rocky entrance to it so I took the lead and said to Chris that I had to hit it with speed or else I’d chicken out. I rolled down the rock garden and wasn’t ashamed to stop at a small rock drop, then it was all cruisy downhill from there. What another fantastic trail! I did a lot of yelling.

Chris seemed stoked that I was so stoked and I couldn’t wait to tell Ross we’d ridden some of his favorite trails. Captain Jack’s made me think of Levi – it was the perfect trail for him.

We cruised back down the way we’d come, past the reservoir and had a bit more catching up to do in the car park before we said goodbye with intentions to meet up again either in the Springs, Santa Cruz, or for Thanksgiving in Bend.

I was happy to see Dan had made it safely down and that Cleo had been sufficiently cool. I got straight into cleaning the bikes, then we packed up and moved over to a picnic area for a better outlook.

We stayed in the Canyon for dinner, then packed up just as we’d done the night before for another urban camp. We were getting used to this.

Garden of the Gods

In between work, we had a morning of errands to get through and we did them quite well. We had three appointments with potential Cleo sitters for race day and our first was Maggie. We met her in a park and despite the rainy day, managed to stay outside as we talked with her. She was lovely and it made me wonder why I’d bothered lining up three people to interview.

On our way to the second interview, we had an hour to kill so when I saw a pristine Astro van parked in a driveway with a for sale sign, I pulled Berta right over. The owner happened to be in the living room and he saw us from the front window. A few hand signals later, he’d come out to meet us.

Wayne was a lovely bloke who’d spent a lot of time converting and working on Astro vans. He, like me, had an affinity for them. While this color scheme didn’t really suit me and the 90s era digital dash and individual cylinder fuel-injection was too tech for me, it was a pleasure to sit in an Astro again.

We ended up talking with him for a good hour and he took us back into his “Tiger Den” – a shed built over his Tiger converted truck that served as his camper when he went out into the mountains. It was about a 90s era build and the first thing I noticed was the build quality – much better than today’s crap with their crappy Amazon latches.

We said goodbye and that we might call, but realistically, $4,500 was too much for a 30 year old Astro, no matter how good a condition it was in.

Our second Cleo sitter interview reminded me why it’s important to line up multiple people to meet. This girl lived in a trailer park, was obviously a drug addict and there were feral dogs running all around. We thought about bailing as we drove through the park to find her spot, but met her anyway and kept it short. Gross.

We moved on to Garden of the Gods then, needing a change of scenery from Cheyenne and eager to book Maggie in so we didn’t have to drive across town to meet a third sitter.

The crowds as we entered the free park and stuck our heads in at the visitor’s center were a huge turn off. This was tourism central. I managed to chat to a person at the desk about a climbing guide for the area and AGAIN I was directed to online resources – MountainProject.com. Boo! Isn’t there any value in human knowledge anymore? We snagged a map and a sticker, took a selfie just so we could fit in, then got the hell out of there.

We went hunting for a park to set up and work for a bit and I nearly lost my cool with the idiot tourist drivers and trying to find a spot for big Berta. After squeezing into a space in a smaller lot with a view of idiot tourists clambering over rocks, Dan found a spot right at the other end where we could at least open our door to some trees and not fat-asses.

I worked for another few hours as rain drizzled down and we got Maggie locked in as our sitter. What a relief! After all that, it was time for a climb. Despite the wet weather, the rain hadn’t really settled so we deemed it dry enough. While I’d been working, Dan scouted out a crag so we head for Keyhole Rock. Cleo was happy to get out and there were deer abounds so she was on high alert.

We kept our heads down on the tourist paths, not wanting to be associated with “those people” and eventually went off-trail to find our crag. After a lot of mucking around with the $8 Colorado guidebook Dan had bought and the Mountain Project app, we figured out that this rock was off-limits since 2018. Bummer.

We scrambled back up to the tourist area, past a sign that told us how illegal we’d just been, then starting looking at the different rock formations we passed. Dan had liked the idea of Keyhole because it was away from the crowds, but it seemed if we wanted a nice moderate route, we’d have to put on a performance.

Red Twin was our rock of choice with a 5.7 called Pothole on its West Face. We definitely couldn’t complain about the approach! We laid out the rope on concrete and I was starting up the rock in no time. I gave Dan a kiss before I left the ground and told him, “it’s just you and me”.

It was our first climb together in a long time and it was a joy. The route was easy, the rock a little sandy but perfectly featured and it had a hard-ish move at the top which meant I got a huge round of applause when I reached the anchor. I hadn’t realized how much of a crowd had gathered and while it’s nice to be appreciated for your craft, it’s not really what I look for when climbing. I had eyes only for my belay partner.

I rapped myself down so as not to put wear on the rock and then it was Dan’s turn. It was his first climb in over a year and I was impressed. He went up smoothly, looking good. Cleo was ever the impressive crag dog, staying put and watching squirrels from her perch at the base of the rock.

After Dan came down, we both ascended the route next door on top rope and then the rain started becoming more serious and it was getting dark. Happy to call it, Dan took his time cleaning the route since it had been a while but he did it perfectly, though he was close to leaving a quickdraw behind!

Cleo was getting the shivers from the cold so it was time to bust a move. The crowds had thinned so we had a nice walk back and we talked shit about the “no this” and “no that” signs dotting the whole park. They really were trying to herd sheep in here, but hey, at least it was free.

We debated what to do for camp. It as dinner time already but we were jonesing for a national forest spot so we we decided on a snack and a drive up Rampart Ridge Road that went up into the mountains from the Garden and went all the way to our special Rampart reservoir if you followed it far enough.

Dan took the wheel and we made use of our headlights as we climbed into the fog. No camping allowed for the next 14 miles, but we stopped after 4 in a nice spot near a lookout. We’d hoped to camp on top of the lookout but the ruts on the road leading up to it were too deep so we settled for the base.

As time goes on, we feel more and more comfortable bending the rules knowing that as long as we leave no trace, what difference does it really make?

Rest Day

What a treat we woke up to. The clouds that had encompassed us overnight had moved down and the view from the plateau was spectacular.

What was even more special was that as I squatted down in the quiet to go to the bathroom, I could hear cars racing. Could it be? Yes, Pikes Peak was just beyond the nearest hill and practice ran from 5:30 to 8:30am each day. We were within earshot of the racetrack!

I did.a bit of work before Dan got up then we took a long walk up the road a ways and sure enough, there was Pikes Peak just behind the clouds. I couldn’t get over the greenness of the valley and Dan’s eagle eyes spotted a destroyed car at the base of that green, obviously too hard to recover from its unplanned descent from the road.

With nothing much to hang around for and with me feeling quite wore in the shoulders from yesterday’s climbing, we drove down the road and parked up at, you guessed it, Cheyenne Canyon. It was a nice day so I wanted some out-of-van time and boy did I get it, setting up my office at a familiar picnic table by the creek with lunch served to me.

When the afternoon rolled around, we watched some F1 practice, then I suggested some crag recon for the next day. No climbing, but it would be nice to get the route-finding out of the way in anticipation of tomorrow’s antics.

We sauntered off up the creek and before we even got to the Pinnacle, we found a few bolted routes by the water. They were “mixed” and we couldn’t quite figure out what they meant but they looked decent enough, though not very tall.

A short scramble took us up to the Pinnacle where a pair of climbers told us we were in the right spot. We mucked around for a good half hour or so sassing out all the routes and decided that this would be very nice rock to climb on.

The last area, South Buttress, was a steep loose approach that only I ventured all the way up. Cleo was doing good on her leg but this would be a stretch. It took me a long time, but I eventually figured out most of the routes and while the climbing looked ok, the belay hangout was not so The Pinnacle was my pick.

There, we’d done an activity for the day! Back at “not-camp”, we got to work making some amazing pizza for dinnner and whipped the TV out again for more F1. Of course, we urban camped it again. We were getting used to it now.

Fan Festival

I was the one who moved us out of our urban spot and back into Cheyenne Canyon in the early morning. We were getting to know the area so well that Dan knew exactly where I’d parked by feeling the van’s movements from bed.

When Dan was up, we drove a little further into the canyon to be closer to the crag and Dan could see the wall from his perch on the side step. What he saw was a huge crowd of kids all over the wall with some very patient belayers doing some active moves to get the little people up the wall. That didn’t bode well for us having our choice of routes.

I got done working at 11am and we packed the climbing bag and some leftover pizza and walked rock-ward.

We didn’t even bother trying to scramble up to the Pinnacle – we could see at least twenty orange helmets that meant we wouldn’t be getting on that wall. Since the mixed route area was in the shade, we set up there and I did some serious stretching in an attempt to get my body ready for this round of climbing. Cleo got straight into remembering what being a crag dog is like.

We didn’t understand the grading system so I figured we could just go from left to right. Well, after clipping the first bolt of the left route, I couldn’t get up to the second so that was short lived. It also didn’t help that a drone-flyer stopped by for a chat at the most inopportune moment.

Dan suggested we move over to the next route and I had a much better time though I must have had some fear-ability because I couldn’t do the crux towards the top a second time while on top-rope! It was not an ideal warm-up and I can’t say that Dan enjoyed it.

While he was up on the wall, a big group of kids came by, their activities done for the day, so at least that meant the Pinnacle was now open for business. I cleaned the route and off we went.

One last party was coming down as we walked up and while there were two guys over on the popular Army Route, we had the 5.8+, “Balance” all to ourselves. Yeah buddy!

What a fun lead. It was slab climbing in parts, but the moves were predictable and the rock was fine. It was also very long which was a nice change for the last few routes we’d been on.

While the wall was shaded, the sun was out and as I neared the top I noticed the wind picking up but didn’t realize there were black clouds beyond the cliff. By the time I came down it had started spitting and when I was properly down, it was sideways rain!

It wasn’t heavy and thankfully the rain was blowing away from the rock but the wind was fierce and it was enough to make Cleo want to disappear into the rock. I huddled in close with her in the shelter of the wall.

Dan was braving it out, but eventually joined us and we munched on our cold pizza until the baby storm passed.

It was the perfect lunch break and the wall had stayed bone dry. By the time Dan was halfway up the rock, it was blue skies for days.

We top-roped the neighboring route that ran up through a crack and I enjoyed it. This was what our first climb should have been like yesterday. We were so relaxed and what a pleasure to have the place to ourselves!

While Dan was up top cleaning the anchor, I happily sorted through my gear and tried to keep Cleo off the rope bag as Dan started rappelling.

I was so busy mucking around with my stuff that I was taken by complete surprise when Dan said my name and I turned to see him down on one knee with a ring box open in his hand. He asked me if I would be his wife.

I didn’t say anything for a few moments, I was too busy laughing and crying but my left hand automatically reached out towards him. Dan started tearing up then, wearing a pleading smile that screamed, “please! please!”

I said, “Let’s do it.”

He slipped the engagement ring on my finger, then we figured the wedding ring might as well go on too. And so, we were married again.

It didn’t seem right to just carry on doing what we were going, but we laughed and smiled as we got the rope down, untangled Cleo from it and started our scramble back to Berta. We were both on cloud nine.

The three of us were in need of a shower and I had every intention of doing a civilized one, but the creek was too enticing and there was still a lot of warmth left in the day. Bugger it. I stripped off and soaped up in the freezing cold water, loving the feeling a little more than Cleo probably did. Dan thought about it but decided for the hot option by the van.

With a Pikes Peak Fan Festival to go to, it was a pleasure to put on our party gear and head into town for the evening. We pinch ourselves every day that Berta is such a comfortable home that enables all our antics.

Dan drove us into downtown Colorado Springs where we hoped for a park at the door and sure enough, he did a Colin Edwards getting Berta parked less than a block away from the festival. Not only that, he managed to find the only parking meter that was out-of-order in that it had been paid in full!

We left Cleo to chill in the cooling afternoon and were off into the crowd for some cars and free shit.

What an event! The festival must have taken over at least eight blocks and we saw Dan’s favorite car in the first few meters and had our first free t-shirts in a few more. It was all surveys and QR codes but we hacked our way through, showing my phone twice or asking a different person for the same thing. This was our jam.

We wandered all the way through the paddock, seeing the Ford Lightning in all its glory and soaking up the atmosphere. It was such a perfect evening for a street party.

When we reached the familiar Hyundai cars, I recognized the engineer I’d talked to at Tech Inspection and he remembered me so we chatted a while. He was tired. They were up at 1am every day for testing, and it would be no different for the next two days. They were committed to be at the festival until 9pm and you could tell he was spent. I wished him well for race day and we moved on.

We timed our positioning perfectly to see the dirt bike jump show and Dan was such a good commentator, recognizing a stalwart of the show-pony sport in Twitch, aptly names because of his terrets. The flew their bikes sky high and I was impressed that they landed on an inflatable ramp.

We must have wandered for another hour or two, stopping in for a Lightning shirt with the Ford guys and marveling at the gold-wrapped Cybertruck on display.

We’d been thinking it would be nice to have a beer in hand but for that, you had to be locked in a pen and that definitely wasn’t worth the froth.

By the time we were back at the O’Reilly’s tent where we’d started, they’d run our of t-shirts so I couldn’t get one for Dad, but I was most happy with the official 2024 poster that we’d picked up and had signed by the artist. She made our day by writing “Just Married” on it and congratulating us.

Cleo was happy to see us and we splayed her out on the nearby grass as we planned our next move. We had ideas of a restaurant with outdoor seating where we could relax with Cleo but after driving around and seeing the Friday night crowds, we decided we’d be happier at Cheyenne eating a curry with F1 qualifying on the TV.

Captain Jacks Again!

Finally, a non-work day! I was still up early and I drove us straight over to the crag then we proceeded to have a slow morning. We took Cleo for a walk on this new set of trails, then it was poster brainstorming for me and breakfast making for Dan.

Just before the eggs were served, Joshua showed up. I’d met him at the Phoenix climbing gym a few months before and when I’d told him about Pikes Peak, he’d rallied up a group of friends and would be at Devil’s Playground with us. He’d driven over to CO Springs from Denver and had the day to kill just like us.

He hung out with us at camp as we ate our breakfast, the boys got to know each other a bit and we talked bikes and racing. As I moved into the van to do the dishes, Joshua asked if I was keen for a ride. I could tell he was jonesing to get an activity in so I obliged, despite being pretty keen to hang out and chill. I can always go either way.

I was disappointed to find out he’d sold his 2022 Scott – basically the brand new version of my bike. He’s swapped it for a 5010 mullet that seemed all sorts of weird to me but Joshua was excited about it. We bid Dan and Cleo goodbye then started our climb. I knew there were a tonne of trails in this network, but I figured we couldn’t go wrong with an exact repeat of what Chris and I had ridden, so that’s what we did.

After Joshua sorted out a few technical issues with loose shoe cleats, we were on our way up. The weather was perfect (again) with some cloud cover to keep us cool as we rose. I felt sorry for him on his heavy, suspension-ridden bike but he’d made his choice!

We stopped and talked to a guy from the Dominican Republic who had sweat coming out of every pore at the drop-in to Chutes and he told us about a sweet race in his home country that went from the sea to the mountains. We said we’d see him there next year.

We pedaled along the now familiar route and were stoked to reach the entrance to Captain Jack’s. I love the mountain biking community, there were a couple of locals at the top keen for a chat and thoroughly happy to be riding their local trails. I shared their enthusiasm knowing what we were in for.

Joshua let a little air out of his tires then I invited him to lead. I was hooting and hollering right behind him and I was a little surprised he wasn’t leaving me in the dust with that bike of his! When he pulled over about halfway, I didn’t hesitate and let fly over the whoops and through the berms. Heavenly!

We fist bumped at the exit and he told me I was “hella fast” which I much appreciated. We cruised down the road then tucked straight into Chutes. I still chickened out at the small rock drop but it didn’t matter. Down we went with me making a hell of a noise.

Dan was happily holed up in the shade when we returned and I was straight into the cold creek to cool off. Joshua eventually got himself in too and even Cleo had a dip. Joshua told Dan that was one of the best trails he’d ever ridden in Colorado and Dan was happy to hear that I’d whooped his ass.

We had camp to ourselves again when Joshua bid us goodbye, off to do his pre-Pikes errands and meet up with his mates. We’d see him again on the mountain!

With a dog to drop-off, we didn’t hang around long but went for an Acai bowl and a quick shop then across town to Maggie’s place. She had a lovely apartment – a far cry from a trailer – and Cleo seemed ready for some couch time. We said goodbye to our girl then went straight back to Cheyenne for some F1 and an early dinner.

It was our first time making urban camp in the daylight so we were quick to put up our window covers, but it was necessary – tomorrow was very early start.

The 102nd Pikes Peak International Hill Climb

My alarm went off at 1am. Dan’s went off at 1:10am. After a head shower for me and a coffee made for Dan, we were on the road at 1:30am. Our spectator instructions told us to arrive at Pikes Peak Highway at 2am and we were not going to be late.

Not long after seeing signs for an event on the highway and a line of cones splitting the lanes, we parked up in a queue of brake lights. The mob moved steadily and a quarter mile and twenty minutes later, we were staged in the North Pole carpark. This was a well-oiled machined. We were put in a row where we could turn off the engine for a bit and watch other rows be let go to drive up the hill. I was hungry so I made myself a bagel, then got on the phone to Dad.

At 2:30am, we were on our way. During a brief stop for a ticket check, we received a bright pink Devil’s Playground placard and we felt like millionaires. We’re going all the way to the top!

I’d driven up Pikes Peak before in the Astro with Dan a passenger and now the roles were reversed and the blue van was much bigger. It was such a different experience in the dark. It almost didn’t seem as steep. Dad was in awe, asking questions as we stayed on our video call with me commentating on the goings on.

We barely stopped in the traffic and what a thrill it was to drive past the pit area where competitor cars were parked silently under tents right on the side of the road. There’s not a whole lot of room on the mountain and while 62 cars didn’t seem like many on Monday, now it seemed like more than enough!

Cars peeled off as we passed other (inferior) spectator areas, but it seemed like a huge crowd was going the same place as us. I knew Joshua was about half an hour behind us in the queue somewhere. We could only hope to find him and his crew later. After we drove under the start gantry, all thoughts were on our experience up the hill.

Dan’s official time up the mountain? 50min, 53 sec. Not exactly representative but it was definitely slower than my attempt! We got to the top just after 4am.

At the entrance to the Devil’s Playground lot, they were positioning people bumper to bumper since no one would be leaving until the very end of the day. After a man in a vest gave us the lo-down on the facilities in the area, we got to the next vested person and Dan couldn’t ask fast enough if we could park in the one level spot we could see. “Calm down, Mr. Excitement!” He was told. “We’re putting your kind over here in this area. You’ll be just fine.”

Haha, not like Dan to get a reprimand like that. We were guided to the level spot and felt very chuffed with ourselves. There were people sleeping in cars all around us but we had to get out on the hill!

There were tents and shelters set up and chairs scattered across the hillside that was partly covered in ice and snow making some walkways treacherous. We sussed things out and decided on a rough area, then decided we’d better go get our chairs and stake our claim.

Once we’d done that, the sky was already becoming light with sunrise so we posted up to watch the early morning show.

Cars continued to creep up the hill and we were so excited for the amount of road we could see down below us. It would take me half the day to figure out, but with the binoculars, we could actually see the start line!

I’d never been so happy to be up at such an early hour of the morning. The air was filled with excitement and it showed on my face.

Sunrise was a beautiful affair with the big yellow ball rising into a cloudless sky. I was in my snowboard gear complete with mittens and Dan was feeling a little bit silly for not heeding my advice to bring his snow stuff.

I would not change my get-up all day and Dan would eventually get comfortable by wearing a pair of my winter riding gloves and sitting in his sleeping bag.

With sunrise over and the cars coming up now just a trickle, we had a couple of hours to kill before race start. We had a lot more cars to weave through now to get back to base but Berta is never too hard to find.

For Dan the break meant a snooze in the glorious queen-size bed but I was too amped. I busied myself making the posters that I hadn’t had a chance to get to yesterday.

I turned on Starlink and started up the Mobil1 livestream at 7am. It was the same presenter as last year and I was amped! Posters finished, I whipped up a couple of egg bagels and chowed one down, then wrapped Dan’s up in foil. When the announcer told me the first car was due on track at 7:30am I nearly choked! I thought it was 8:30am. We had to get out there! Dani Sordo was going to be running fourth!

I gently woke Dan to tell him I was heading out and he was keen. Armed with his sleeping bag, gloves and a hot bagel, we ventured out to our chairs. I had my trusty AM radio ready, but really, the livestream was going to be the best entertainment so when I saw a Starlink dish at the camp in front of us, I went down to make friends.

The group of guys were lovely. They happily accepted my $20 to get onto their network and even offered me a breakfast burrito! No need, we were fully tech’d up now! That meant I got to call Dad from the hill just after the action got started and we saw our first turn around due to a red flag. The only way to get two chances up the hill? Get stopped behind a red flag and make your way back to down to try again.

The Rivian went through with his silly siren on, then the Hyundai Ioniq’s – the closest things to road cars on the hill. When Dani Sordo came flying past, I made sure he could hear me cheering and the car looked glued to the hairpin. We were feeling pretty smug about our seat positioning – the cars came straight at us full tilt into the hairpin before braking hard and accelerating away. Brilliant stuff. Even better, Dani went to the top of the timesheets and stayed there a good while.

The day went by steadily with red flags galore – the majority of them caused by incidents on our corner. People were dropping fluids and overheating, a guy in an open-wheeled carbon fiber thing oversteered out of the top 90* turn and binned it into the embankment and another girl parked up just before the hairpin due to mechanical failure.

Dan’s driver pick, Dan Novembre, was an over-heater and he managed to pull over to where the Marshalls were parked and keep the track green. He was in the first twenty runners which meant he spent the next 10 hours right there by the track. He was a great sport, egging people on and helping the Marshalls out whenever a car needed assistance after failure at this very famous corner.

While others took naps in their cars, we mostly stayed at our post, only stepping away for bathroom breaks, to make lunch, or to change out battery packs to keep our iPad charged and the live stream running. It would have been a much lesser experience without the live footage and commentary. I almost felt like I’d underpaid my new Starlink friends.

Joshua came and found us midway through the afternoon. His friends were camped up a little higher and it sounded like they were taking a semi-serious approach to the event, taking naps and meandering about the playground, not like us die-hard fans!

As we got into the last twenty cars, we were amazed at the movement around us. People were already packing up and getting ready to leave! We couldn’t believe it, knowing that we’d be staying until the very end to see the Parade of Champions and take our sweet time down the hill.

It took FOREVER to get through the final few runners due to a multitude of red flags. One poor bugger got caught behind a stoppage twice and had to make his way down the mountain. I could only imagine the state of his brakes.

The finale was the number 11 car taking off from the start line and binning it in the first corner into the trees. How unfortunate considering the preparation and the work that had gone into the car all week. There’s something about that number.

As the track was cleared by marshalls, we folded our chairs and got ready to approach the road. We chatted with the Starlink team and they seemed as happy with their experience as we were.

We led a group down to the hairpin where I was disappointed to get yelled at by a marshal so we made our way over to the main straight where others were gathering. I thought the Parade of Champions was for us spectators to get close, but these assholes had different ideas.

All of a sudden, a stream of cars were coming down and we scrambled to get close to the road. With signs at the ready, we waved and whooped at our heroes. What an epic day. Dani Sordo drove by with a flag out his window and Dan swears he looked right at my sign and smiled. What an end to our day.

Joshua and co. were part of the mob wanting to get out as soon as possible, so we bid them farewell then walked up to the fence to watch the chaos unfold. The marshals let the motorbikes go down first and they were loving it, helmet-less and first down the hill – what a treat.

The cars filed out and we were a little nervous that Berta would get in everybody’s way, but she was treated like a traffic island and everyone made their way around ok. We waved goodbye to Joshua then with the carpark half-empty, meandered home to get ready for our descent.

As I was changing out of my snowboard gear, we were getting the hurry up by the vested-men so we hustled on out of there. It was me at the wheel this time and I was on the phone to Dad again so he could enjoy the experience with us. Though he couldn’t get a sense of the steepness, he could appreciate the multitude of hairpin turns we had to take.

It must have taken us two hours to get down and there was a lot of stop-start in traffic. The mood wasn’t nearly as good as on the way in and I was bummed because I’d let the brakes overheat. I envied those still hanging out at their camps watching the world go by. That’s what I thought we’d have been able to do.

Once we were on the highway, it was smooth going and we drove across town to pick up Cleo. Maggie had been completely charmed by her and the dog had obviously enjoyed herself because after coming out to say hello, she went straight back into the house!

We coaxed her out eventually, I gave Maggie a generous tip and then we had to find camp. It had been a long day, it was nearly 8pm and I was thoroughly over it. We both decided it would be best to have a bush camp and so we drove back across town and up to Woodland Park to the national forest by Rampart Reservoir. The pink sunset was enough to lift my spirits a little as we drove up the hill.

We stopped in the first open spot after some rough washboarded road and weren’t bothered about leveling the van or making dinner. We just slept backwards in the bed so the blood didn’t rush to our head and called it a night.

Pikes Peak had been an amazing experience, and what a pleasure to have done it together, but we were beat.

Post-Race Week

The next week felt like a big decompress. It took me a good day or two to get back to my normal self. I think my body had taken a thrashing and the high had been so high that the come-down hurt a little.

Dan did all the driving to get us back to the Buena Vista area and while we contemplated many options, the best one was for us to camp in Dan’s spot – on the hill. What a perfect way to recover.

We parked Berta up in the shade I did my work day and we had some great entertainment! First we saw at least 500 head of cattle and their calves driven across the valley by cowboys on horses, then a bunch of mountain bikers bike-packing across Colorado, then a group of motorbikers doing their touring.

This really was a gorgeous place that Dan had found with the perfect amount of activity to keep you company but also at the right distance to keep you feeling serene. As the sun went down, Dan built a properly-sized fire ring and we watched the sky change color.

I really enjoyed taking Cleo on our first walk around the neighborhood and I think she liked it as much as I did getting her nose into all sorts of deep holes and coming up filthy.

It was back to reality for Dan over the next few days having to go into work so we relocated to Breckenridge, back to our familiar (if somewhat illegal) camp by the old mine.

I thought about getting my bike out during those days, but the rain came in which was a nice change so Cleo and I contented ourselves with long walks.

Friday was our first free day together and I got my work out of the way super early. Just as I was finishing up, we were visited by a cop and he got straight to the point. We were not allowed to camp here. He was super nice about it and I got the feeling someone had dobbed us in because of the way that he spoke and I was relieved to hear it was only a $50 fine. $50 for the eight nights we’d spent here wasn’t bad!

He wrote me up and told me how I could pay, told us that the ground here was toxic – hence the no camping – then dismantled the fire ring and left us to it. We were gone shortly after towards Lake Dillon and some climbing.

It was the closest spot to where we’d been and looked like easy stuff so it seemed perfect. We stopped down at the campground for an illegal breakfast (we parked in a fee area) then parked up at a trailhead and walked the short approach to the crag.

We’d seen a pair of tour vans in the carpark and sure enough, the kids that had filled those vans were right here. It must be something about Fridays in Colorado that kids crowd the climbing spots!

There was plenty of room for us so we set up at the left end of the short wall and I set up a top-rope. We had no idea what we were climbing but it didn’t matter, it was all easy and over in a few moves. Most people treated this as a bouldering area.

The view was brilliant and when I attached the rope to a second set of anchors, we found some challenge! Dan was not in a serious mood and when his muscles gave out, he would swing on the rope and chuckle uncontrollably. He was just so incredibly relaxed that he couldn’t give it anything.

Me on the other hand was working on a small project of sorts where I tried all sorts of different moves to get up a small roof. It was Dan’s beta and a fresh try that got me up it in the end and I was very satisfied with myself and happy to call it a day.

With my muscles pumped and Dan having the giggles, we’d enjoyed our short time at this short crag.

We happily left the kids and a few weirdos who’d started climbing nearby and drove lakeside where we got the chairs out to enjoy fish burgers for lunch. We were living the dream watching tourists fuss about with their kayaks and SUP boards which seemed totally inappropriate for this cooler day and seemed very silly when the wind picked up and it started raining.

That was our queue to leave. We were off back to the hill.

It felt like it was “our” spot now and we celebrated so, having another fire and a scrumptious dinner as we watched the goings on in the valley below and the clouds overhead. Tonight’s entertainment was a heard of bison (not buffalo) and their babies grazing in the afternoon glow.

The next morning was relaxed, but a little muted. It would be our last day together as a family for two months. We stayed in bed watching F1, then Dan made us breakfast and we separated our things. Cleo would be staying with Dan while I was off touring so her supplies went into the white van.

When it came time to leave, though I’d resolved I wouldn’t, of course I got emotional. The past year had been such a rollercoaster and this month together had been just what I’d hoped for – a sign that we were back. Not only could we make our marriage work, but we could have fun together again.

After a lot of words and hugs, I was in Berta’s driver’s seat and romping slowly down our hill. A few days earlier when Dan had left for work and I trailed behind by a few hours, Cleo had disappointed me when she chased after Dan as he drove down the hill. After all I’d done for her, she was abandoning me! I soon called her and she returned to me but I was a little hurt. Well, now she made up for it. She was coming with me and that was that! It didn’t matter how much Dan called to her or when I stopped Berta completely, she was following me. It warmed my heart to see her running alongside me, not willing to let me go. Eventually, Dan got a hold of her and kept her with him as I made it all the way down the hill. He told me later that as I’d rounded the corner out of sight, she’d started making her way back up the hill towards his van, only to take a sharp turn left and sprint down the other side of the hill to catch me. He had to yell with all his might to bring her back. Goodbye for now, family. See you soon.

I spent the next few days doing a lot of driving but taking the scenic routes as I always do. I drove directly south and camped just inside New Mexico on my first night, complete with a fire.

The next morning, I started following the Rio Grande and over breakfast, I got to watch tourists get their safety briefings before tackling the rapids in their blow-up boats.

That same day, I managed to get a mountain bike ride in at Santa Fe on Sunday. It was getting warmer but it was a nice way to break up the drive and I met a cool pair of locals who were doing the opposite loop to me so I saw them twice and we had good banter.

Having originally planned to get back to Phoenix on Monday, I was so fearful of the heat, that I delayed that until Wednesday. I camped in New Mexico again, just shy of the Very Large Array, and I finally caught up on the F1 just before a storm blew in.

The lightning was so close that it scared me into turning off my power system, just in case of a direct strike!

My final stop was at the hidden lake Cleo and I had found on our way out to Colorado over a month ago. Yes, a body of water at a relaxed camp was what I wanted to round out this tour.

Turns out I didn’t have the place to myself with a big group of Native Americans camped up in the flat area away from the lake for the Independence Day week but I soon got used to that. After a bit of scouting, I parked up in a pullout by the water thinking I’d have it all to myself, but of course it was the choice spot for lake access and the other campers made plenty of use, walking right by the van to get to the water. I felt a little silly, like I was encroaching on their fun, but I’d already set up the awning so we tolerated each other’s company over the next couple of days.

The awning went up and down depending on wind and monsoon rains but it was essential to keep me shaded in the middle of the day. It was just bearably hot in the afternoons and still nice and cool in the morning and evenings. I caught up on a lot of admin stuff, starting tying things up at work, gave the inside of the van a thorough clean and fixed all the things that Dad would make fun of me for. Europe was up next, but as soon as I returned, it would be me and Dad in the big blue so I had to make sure things were ready for him!

My semi-private lake and some “me-time” was the perfect end to a great month in my favorite van with my favorite person and my favorite dog (and quite possibly my new favorite place). Now I just have to endure some extreme heat for a few days before getting on a plane.

16 Jun – 3 Jul, 2024.