We finish our long weekend in Mount Falcon Park, hiking with Dad and Jezze. It’s still a little chilly out, but the sun feels great. The trails here have expansive views of Denver and the surrounding canyons, and even a few flat rocks for outdoor yoga.
We wake up parked next to highway 115 under clear, cold skies. Climbing still seems unlikely. We drive north to Colorado Springs, and follow many many signs to Garden of the Gods. We’ve both been here before, but never really taken a close look at it. It’s a nice place to hike around, we find, and free to the public according to the wishes of the donors in 1909. There are many rock climbs here, but they may be an acquired taste, protected by scads of old pitons, some bolts, and gear placements in soft, pliable sandstone. They are fun to look at, at least.
Garden of the Gods Gambol at EveryTrail
Our battery is low after a day running the heater without any appreciable sun for solar charging. The furnace requires electricity for ignition and running the fan, so if we drain the battery there’s no heat. To avoid this we decide to drive for a while to the Dakota Hot Springs, which are open until 10 pm. The battery charges during the slow, snowy drive. We’re not sure what the hot springs will be like, but we pay $20 for the two of us to find out. It’s great! The water comes from a 2,000-foot well drilled by an oil company in 1924 that tapped hot water instead of crude. It’s clear, odorless water. The central tub feels about 106°F, the rest of the pool maybe 101°F. Swimsuits are optional, and with the snow still coming down onto bare skin the water feels fantastic. We linger as long as we can stand before heading back out to find a place to overnight.
A snowstorm slowly settles in, dispelling any notions of rock climbing. We don’t mind too much though. A slow morning feels nice, and the sign by the parking area suggests the possibility of a nice loop hike. We take note of trail and road numbers, then set off into the snow.
BLM road 5825 climbs a ridge for a while before dropping into Sand Gulch. There it becomes trail 5825A, wending through a canyon full of Juniper, Live Oak, and yellow grass, all with a fresh coat of snow. The limestone of the lower canyons is replaced by a pink, potassium-rich granite. Rabbit, deer, and coyote tracks punctuate the trail. A clear spring tempts us to stop and fill a water bottle.
A few miles up the canyon a cozy little homestead appears. Icicles dangle from the corrugated roof, and a small stable sits close by. It looks like a hermit’s dream home.
Soon our loop begins to bend around. We pass several other roads, top a small pass, and start back down into The Bank canyon. 
The amount of grass in these high canyons surprises me. I suppose that’s what attracted the homesteaders. Gradually the canyon narrows until the limestone walls we know and love rise up above us. The temperature has dropped, probably to the low teens. Our thoughts turn to dinner and warm hands. We arrive back at the camper before dark, and settle in for a cold night.
Ann mentioned an idea to me a couple of days ago that has become more appealing to me as I mull it over. Instead of feasting for Thanksgiving, why not try fasting? We consume all the time. Is consuming more really a good way to give thanks? Going without seems like a better way of appreciating what we usually have. I don’t want to forgo the spirit of celebration either, though, so I propose a beverage-only day. We start with our usual creamy coffee. We make a trip to the store for some final supplies. I feel like a ghost there, like I am not of the world of food today, and this vast array of products are not for me. The absence of breakfast enhances the effect.
Disregarding the cold, snowy weather, we pack up the truck to go to Shelf Road, figuring we’ll hike if the weather is too cold for climbing. On the road we have egg nog lattés for lunch - hardly suffering! I still notice the space that I usually fill with food, though. How lucky am I to have lunch every day?
We find that Shelf is indeed cold, but not as snowy as we feared. We hike a couple of miles up The Bank canyon, which helps to make our final phantom meal the most intense, and the most satisfying. We drink Samuel Smith’s Oatmeal Stout. The empty feeling in my belly, the beer, our warm camper, and the endorphins from the hike combine into a feeling of blissful thanks. I don’t remember ever feeling more genuinely thankful for my life on this day.
I’ve ordered an XO laptop as part of the One Laptop Per Child program’s Give One Get One program. This is a kid’s computer, but it runs Linux, has WiFi and mesh networking, and is quite rugged and portable. I’m betting that I’ll actually use it, and hoping a kid somewhere is inspired by it too. The Give One Get One offer is only up for another eight days, so I went for it.
I had seen stories on the XO before, and even mentioned it to Ann. The final straw was seeing an incoming link from a guy planning his own US perimeter tour who had just ordered one.
I like the storytelling technique of setting up a cliché, then exposing the cliché as a sham. This is a movie takes down a bunch of them: the irredeemable junkie, the heroic schoolteacher, the drug-dealing thug, the poor but bright student, and the list goes on. Mostly the reality exposed is grim, but the film manages to convey some of the things that get us through grim realities without coating them in glitter. The art of this film is that it makes this palatable when it would always be easier to sink into the gut-wrenching, feel-bad genre.
Referred by d
Ann emails Kate and offers to trade me for a pound of stew meat. The deal is made, and I’m carried up to The Palace by Kate and Mark, where we enjoy some routes in pleasantly warm, hazy weather. One of the routes doesn’t even have a slash or a + in the grade!
Cheerleaders Gone Hippie 5.9+ - the offwidth section that took me so long last time goes much better after a summer in Vedauwoo! My only mistake is putting my right side in, which pushes me to make the next clip behind my head. Kate and Mark make it smoother going left side in.
Check Your Six 5.11b - after we eyeball and reject the new route down the hill, Mark selects this direct start to the climb to left. The first clip goes easily. The second looks significantly tougher, and Mark takes a good, clean fall on the next moves. The feet are tiny, the hands mostly rounded sidepulls. He gets it on the next try, clips the third, and makes the next few tough moves to some decent feet. He’s nearly at the fourth clip, but can’t find a decent handhold. After a few tries he takes a good whipper, pushing perhaps a bit too hard off the rock, so he slams fairly hard back into the face when I catch him, splitting a fingertip and slamming a knee. I let him down to recover.
Check Your Head 5.10b/c - I have some sympathy adrenaline going after Mark’s falls, and decide to try the easier route. I soon work the shakes out, and enjoy the climb. Lots of nice liebacks, a few delicate sidesteps. I make it, as does Kate after me.
Mark is okay, but done climbing. To end the day I climb Check Your Six on TR. It’s really nice climbing. I don’t fall, but I can’t find very probable clipping stances. Things worked out for the best. As I’m packing up, I see an unexpected piece of gear in my pack. My camera. I have no idea what happened - I emptied the pack out looking for it before. Kate suggests it may have been tangled up in the rope bag. I’m embarrassed, but glad to have it back!
Husband and wife performers are always interesting to watch, knowing that we see the public face of a relationship that continues offstage. I had heard of violinist and conductor Pinchas Zukerman, but not his cellist wife Amanda Forsyth. We begin with only Pinchas conducting Samuel Barber’s Adagio for Strings, a piece whose hushed intensity was familiar to me, but far more gripping in person. 
Pinchas both conducts and plays Vivaldi’s Concerto for Violin and Cello with his wife, a lively piece full of call-and-answer between the soloists. I find a lot of contrast in their styles. Pinchas is smooth, fluid, and assured. Amanda comes across to me as aggressive, to the point of feeling a little rushed at times. Ann ended up with a totally different impression, though, illustrating the subjectivity of the musical experience. Amanda leaves the stage for Mozart’s “Jupiter” Symphony No. 41, which I drift pleasantly through, but returns for Brahms’ Concerto for Violin and Cello. This one seems to me to suit her style better, and I’m partial to the way Brahms writes for the cello to begin with, full of powerful currents that pull like an undertow toward mysterious depths. This piece was going to be conducted by the symphony’s associate conductor Scott O’Neil, but he’s ill so Pinchas conducts and plays again. He’s not able to do much but wave his bow in the air a bit between passages, which makes me wonder as I often have before if most of a conductor’s work isn’t done during rehearsal. Would I notice if there were no conductor during a performance? Probably, if only because the conductor is part of the show. A big part of my enjoyment of some past performances has come from watching Jeffrey Kahane create the impression of weaving the music together on the podium.
We’ll be seeing some more good violinists this winter. I was struck last year with the great individuality of good pianists, and I’m hoping I’ll get into violinists the same way this time around.
I think I might have let this one pass as just a reasonably entertaining movie, but it incorporated a few elements that have extra appeal for me. One is the research station on Pike’s Peak where Nikola Tesla conducted genuinely mysterious experiments. The other is a philosophical conundrum I read about in I am a Strange Loop among other places. I won’t give it away, but it’s a good brain warper if you give it some thought. These elements balance out the fact that if judged as a magic trick, the movie fails by its own criteria. As a movie, I like it.
All recorded:
