Hi Gram!
Wow, after such an intense and memorable weekend, I would have been satisfied to just relish the memories and unwind a little. That’s not my style, though. My original plan was to give Emma a ride to get her rental car, then meet up with some other friends later. As we were leaving, though, Brandon invited us to a coffee shop. I found out later that this was a very special coffee shop with fancy brews that made connoisseurs swoon. I tried their version of horchata, which was good but not the best I’ve ever tasted. Much to our delight, there was a whole crew of FI friends waiting when we got there and the weekend’s party of discussion and laughter continued on.

After the coffee shop, Emma and I headed to get her car, only to hit a little speed bump along the way. You see, car rental companies insist that you have a credit card in your name to pick up the car. Despite the reservation being in her name, the payment being in her name, and the account being in her name, Emma didn’t have the actual card with her. She tried to persuade them that she had other cards in her name, and her driver’s license, but alas they were sticklers. We quickly adjusted our plans and headed up the mountain to pick up Sarah, Alex, and Maggie. They were taking the cog train up to Pike’s Peak, and we had plans to pick them up and all go hiking afterwards. The road up to the cog train is a winding path that climbs quickly in elevation. I started feeling a little dizzy and nauseous on the drive and reached full on vertigo as soon as we parked. Unfortunately, we weren’t in an actual parking spot, but just on the side of the road in front of the cog train terminal. I got out of the car and fought the urge to throw up as the world spun beneath me. An official looking man in an official looking red jacket came to tell me that I needed to move the car, but quickly relented when I told him that I would be happy to move the car once the world came to a full and complete stop.

The cog train crew arrived and met us at the car, and we all came to realize that I wouldn’t be driving back down the mountain. Maggie took over the pilot’s seat and drove like a grandma down the winding roads, allowing me to keep my lunch and snacks on my insides rather than the garbage can in front of me. They were gracious enough to agree to just go to the hotel and let me sleep and recover instead of going on our hike. I never get car sick or nauseous, so I think I was just affected by the altitude and maybe a little dehydration. They helped me to my hotel room, compliments of Sarah, made sure I could find the bed in my swaying perception of reality, then headed to their room to catch a nap of their own. I woke an hour or two later, feeling much more stable, and we all decided to go to the Irish Pub, Sarah’s home away from home in any town she visits. We shared a round of appetizers; it was fun to hold up the menu, circle the appetizers section, and say “we’ll have this!” We all recounted our days, relived the weekend we’d just shared, and decimated the plates of fried food in front of us. Back at the hotel, I had no problem falling right back to sleep despite my earlier nap.

Tuesday morning, Sarah, Maggie and I decided to grab breakfast and head to the Cave of the Winds. After breakfast, I went to my room to grab my bags and was walking into my room when I heard Maggie express frustration with the ice/water machine at the end of the hall. I let my door close and went to investigate, but she’d made it work and had filled her water bottle. Imagine my frustration when I went to go back in my room and the door was locked FROM THE INSIDE! Some hotel rooms have a stopper mounted to the door frame that flips out when you’re in the room. If someone tries to enter, even with a key, the door stop will keep them from entering. I can only guess that when I started walking in the room earlier, then let the door shut right away, the flip stopper somehow bounced out a little. Remembering that I was the cause of us missing the hike the previous night, I was aghast when I saw that I was going to be the reason we missed the cave. Determined, I channeled my inner McGyver and calculated how to get the stopper to retract from outside the door. I won’t recount the details here, since its a safety mechanism to prevent someone from doing exactly what I did, but suffice it to say those things will only slow someone down and aren’t fool proof. Relieved, we met in the lobby and hurried to the car.

We actually got to the Cave of the Winds a little bit early. We checked in, then waited in the tourist corral to wait for our tour guide. Our tour group was relatively small, maybe ten or fifteen people. Our guide welcomed us in the sing-songy voice that must be part of their initiation and training, then led us to the entrance.

I won’t bore you with talk of stalagmites and stalactites, narrow passages, low ceilings and all the other things you’d expect in a cave, but I have a few pictures that I felt obligated to include.

After the caves, we headed to lunch near the airport before dropping Maggie off for her flight home.

Sarah and I continued on to see Nicki and some friends in Denver, then on to Carl and Mindy’s place for an old fashioned fourth of July BBQ, complete with cole slaw, potato salad, kids jumping in the pool, and of course apple pie. It was great meeting new people, joking with friends, and enjoying some Americana. On the way back to Nicki’s that night, I was treated to fireworks displays going off all around me, illuminating the drive and making my chest surge with pride. Also, here’s some pictures of me high-fiving a bear.