new site.

Hey everyone - I switched over to a new platform this summer, so you can find me here: The American Ingénue

victory is mine (ours).

I did it! Well, we did it. This weekend, Doug and I successfully climbed to the acme of Pikes Peak, one of Colorado's famous "fourteeners" and the tallest mountain in our area at 14,115 feet above sea level. Nicknamed "America's Mountain" (it is the most visited on the continent), Pikes Peak is visible from practically every point of the Springs, and Douglas has been lusting after it since the moment he arrived in Colorado. Climbing the mountain has been scribbled on our calendar since the two of us sat down to to plan our summer to-do list. I was personally dreading the day, not knowing if my lungs were up for the task, but everything went off without a hitch... nine hours of hiking, thirteen miles, and two pairs of shaky legs later, we had covered the 7,400 feet elevation gain to the summit.

 

We arrived at the trailhead at 8:00 a.m., slightly behind schedule, but I expected as much. The first few miles were familiar to us, having walked down them a few times already during our descent from the Incline, a local fitness attraction (known to me as the staircase from hell). Once we got into unfamiliar territory, we plowed through the first seven miles of the trip in two and a half hours to reach Barr Camp. During this pit stop, we made friends with the local chipmunks... and by friends I mean we fed a couple of them by hand and one little bugger started crawling all over my back looking for more when I put the food away. The second leg of the trip was much harder, as the altitude started to do a number on Doug's lungs and my legs nearly buckled from sheer exhaustion. We made the acquaintances of some fellow summit-seekers along the way, a father and son from Tennessee and a girl from Minnesota, sharing some fears of death-by-lightning (not an uncommon occurrence once you get past the tree line)  as we waited out a passing storm at Timberline Shelter. We also ran into a few rascally marmots and were not quite sure what they were after or whether or not they could be trusted. Marmots (shrug).

The last half-mile of the trek was the most brutal: sixteen "golden" steps to the top, better described as a treacherous climb over boulders while fearful of aforementioned death-by-lightning. I was not sure my body could move another inch at this point, but with a constant prayer going over and over in my head, Douglas and I made it to the top in one (two) pieces. It was an amazing feeling. To be honest, climbing the mountain was entirely Doug's idea and something I would have never planned on my own, but once my feet took the final steps to the summit I felt like a true champion. I had pushed my trembling, aching body to do something it was begging me not to do for the past nine hours, and something that my mind had been dreading for more than a week. But I did it. We did it - and it was awesome!

After the exhausting climb, Douglas and I rested at the summit shop and tried one of their "world famous" doughnuts (it missed the mark in our opinion, even after a nine hour hike). Not that I minded, but we were treated like celebrities by the other visitors in the summit house, who had almost all taken the railway or driven to the top. One boy even came to interview us about our ascent, as he was debating whether or not he wanted to make the climb himself. After the hoopla died down and we snapped a few blurry pictures in the rain (against the recommendation of the shop staff, who frequently announced that EMTs would not come to our rescue if we were struck by lightning), we took the cog railway down the mountain, an hour-long train ride with a scenic view of the surrounding wildlife. We caught a glimpse of few mountain goats and wild sheep on the descent, which were exciting, although I was hoping to spot a bear. After a drive home in a torrential downpour and a warm meal, we both passed out within a few minutes, proud of our day's feat but sore to the bone. Where's the next adventure?!

rocky mountain fever.

This weekend, Doug and I ventured upstate to Rocky Mountain National Park for some sightseeing and hiking. The weather was not as kind as we would have liked, but we still had a great time exploring the area and spending time together. We took the drive northward Saturday morning and after several closed roads and detours, we finally made it to the trailhead. About halfway into our hike, the sky opened up in a thundering downpour, soaking my underprepared self to the bone... I have a much harder time spending money on outdoor gear than the well-dressed, waterproof Douglas. After an impromptu, middle-of-the-trail wardrobe change, however, I was able to escape hypothermia and we were back on our feet. We only covered about four miles of ground but, since I have yet to acclimate to the altitude, that was about all my lungs and legs could take.

The Colorado elevation has been doing a number on my fitness self-esteem. Normally, two weeks into a fitness routine and I would be kicking butt and taking names, but my body has not gotten used to the thin air, and even a short jog can leave my legs feeling rubbery and my lungs gasping for more oxygen. Next weekend, Doug plans to take on Pikes Peak, one of Colorado's famous "fourteeners" (14,000 feet). I want to join him on this adventure but I do not think my hiking track record has been strong this season. I feel like such a wimp! We will be doing a little bit of training this week, so I am going to decide whether or not I think I am aerobically up for the trek.

After our expedition near the continental divide, we hit the road for a scenic drive through the mountains and clouds, made even better by an awesome lightning storm that danced across the sky as we made our way back south. After a stop in Empire for a proper pancakes-and-eggs dinner at the "original" Hard Rock Café (named for the local mining community - nothing to do with the chain) we made it home to our warm and cozy apartment, a weekend well spent for sure.

twenty-eight.

Another year come and gone. This year, my birthday was a rather mellow one. Douglas and I woke up extra early to enjoy breakfast together at our favorite local eatery, Over Easy, before he had to go to work. Once he headed to the office, I began my quiet, contemplative day with a nap and my typical routine of intermittent tidying, random yoga poses, and perusing a few of my favorites in the blogosphere.

Today was a scorcher, about ninety degrees, but I hardly noticed the heat sitting under the awning of my newly-frequented coffee shop "office". The dry Colorado air does not hold heat the way it does in the Northeast and without the humidity, well, ninety degrees is almost downright pleasant. I was able to soak up some sun while reading Michael Pollan's slow but provocative Omnivore's Dilemma and took the season's first dip in our development's tiny swimming pool.

The evening began the real celebrations: Douglas brought me, bedecked in my new open-back dress, to the downtown gastropub, the Rabbit Hole, for dinner and drinks. Then, lucky girl that I am, I got to sit and look pretty while he baked me my requested strawberry cake (his very first authentic pastry pursuit), sang me "happy birthday", and presented me with a beautiful new ruby ring. What a lovely day.

I love a good birthday, but I cannot say I was thrilled about turning another year older this time. Shucks, I liked being twenty-seven. Yes, yes, I know: age is just a number and you are only as old as you feel, but sometimes, you just want to savor something a little bit longer. I do not always feel like I am where I am supposed to be, and that becomes all the more salient when commemorating another year spent on Earth. I know that I have accomplished quite a bit in the twenty-eight trips I have taken around the sun, perhaps more than many of my nearly-thirty peers, but there is always that longing for more. Good thing I have the whole wide-open summer ahead of me; lots of time to stockpile adventures before we head back to reality. Let's see what the next two months, and 365 days for that matter, have in store. 

glimpses.

Today marks the close of my first official week in Colorado and the first full week of summer vacation. Here are a few glimpses from the past seven days.

Strolling through the Garden of the Gods. Spending a rainy 4th of July waiting for the fireworks. Munching on an Alaskan reindeer sausage at Biker Jim's while Doug chowed down on a rattlesnake and pheasant hotdog. Watching Old Crow Medicine Show and the Avett Brothers jam at the famous Red Rocks amphitheater. Hiking in Palmer Park.

guten tag.

Well, hello there, finally. The past few weeks I have been outofmymind busy. I had the privilege of being sent on a two-week school field trip to Germany (yes, you heard right) but this meant that grades had to be done early, tutoring sessions and appointments had to be crammed in, and final projects had to be prepared and explained before my departure. So, phew. Despite the panic attack that ensued beforehand, and the constant stream of correspondence I had to keep during my time abroad, the trip was exciting and fulfilling, as every new adventure should be.

While we were in Germany, the students and I stayed with host families and I lucked out by having the most wonderful host family one could hope for. Christina and Holger, and their two blond babies, were the most generous, entertaining, gracious hosts you can imagine. I feel truly blessed to have met them and to have been the lucky recipient of their hospitality. Most evenings, despite having spent longs days sitting in conferences or exploring local cities, I stayed up till unholy hours simply because I could not get enough of the conversation.

The field trip was scheduled as part of a global conference that one of our student organizations takes part in every year and, as of this year, I am the lucky supervisor who gets to escort the diligent students overseas. All year we have been working on research tasks to present at this year's conference, and it was such a thrill to watch the students finally show off all their hard work. While we were there on "business," rather than pleasure, and the conferences took up large portions of our trip, we were given day tours of the nearby cities of Hamburg and Münster and also got time to spend with our host families. Though the responsibility of chaperoning eight teenagers across the Atlantic is a serious one, and though I will admit my patience wore thin on more than one occasion, everyone had a great time and all that prep work beforehand was worth it. Summer adventure #1 - accomplished! Now on to #2, finding my baby in the midwest.