Family Adventures at Pike's Peak

I mentioned in an earlier column that I took the family to Colorado Springs this summer. I feel it is every American's duty to ascend Pike's Peak with his offspring at least once. After all, Katherine Lee Bates, a school teacher, sat on top and wrote "America the Beautiful." She could see the purple mountain's majesty as she sat high above the fruited plain.

And I do mean high above.

It is a nineteen mile trip to the top. (It's nineteen miles back down, too, unless you go over the side, then it's only fourteen thousand, one hundred and ten feet.) The first half of the drive is smooth and paved. Nothing scary; no hairpins. I was thinking it was going to be a really nice trip. In fact, I was trying to remember why that trip had scared me so when I was a child and my dad drove us up there in a 1968 Rennault. (Or something that sounds like that.) My mom had even told me my grandfather drove up there in a Model T.

Then, we got to the second ten miles. It is sandy-dirt and as bumpy as a pair of corduroy pants. The first thing our car did was fishtail to the right. Now, my heart was thumping. I just knew we were going to slide over the edge.

All the way up there are signs that say "hot brakes fail". Now, there was something I was looking forward to: coming down without using the brakes.

Then, you drive above the timber line and suddenly there is nothing between you and a fourteen thousand, one hundred and ten foot drop but that slippery, corduroy road. And there is a line of cars going and coming. You have to scoot over to the edge when a car meets you. I loved that.

I prayed that prayer I figure many a father has uttered on that road: "Lord, get me off of this mountain in one piece and I will never do anything this foolish again." I was wondering what percentage of cars goes over the side. Ten percent? Fifty? At least eighty percent.

When we got to the top, I was so relieved to get out of that car, but I couldn't relax, thinking about the trip back down. I wanted to take the regular route down and not find any sudden shortcuts to the bottom.

Of course, the first thing my kids did when we got to the summit was run toward the edge. It is actually a gentle sloping hill up there, but I just knew it was fourteen thousand, one hundred and ten feet straight down. There is a gift shop up there and I herded us into it. They serve food and sell all kinds of souvenirs. I just looked for the restroom. But I calmed enough to buy a coffee cup. That's my new favorite cup because I figure I earned it.

It really is an amazing view from up there. It was a clear day and we could see forever.

After an hour of shopping, looking and eating, we made our descent. I kept the car very slow and did not let any speed build up. The trip down really wasn't that bad. A park ranger checked our brakes at the half-way point and I was doing okay.

It wasn't until I got home that my mom told me that my grandfather had actually tried to go up the mountain in a Model T, but had turned around and never gone back to the mountains again. Oh, now she tells me.

You can contact Craig Harris at www.apparentlyso.net.