I was in Denver over the weekend on business, I am an IT guy. I planned to stay the whole weekend because when it comes to computer stuff, things can sometimes go terribly wrong. As it turned, the major upgrade went flawlessly Saturday night and I ended up with a Sunday to kill.
So I got up early and drove to downtown Denver to go for my planned longish run. I ran on a designated running path along Cherry Creek. It goes for miles and miles and was very nice. I got my eleven miles in and returned to my hotel.
After showering, I knew that if I were to lay down, my day would be over. So I got on the google and looked for afternoon masses in the area. But then, then, a bright idea came to me. Its a beautiful day, why not drive down to Colorado Springs and check out Pike’s peak and then go to mass down there.
So I called my brother-in-law. He is originally from Colorado Springs and asked him about Pike’s peak. “Is it a good thing to do?” He responded, “Oh, it is great. You will love it.”
He lied.
So I got in the car and made the drive and eventually made entry on to the Pike’s peak highway. And it was lovely, for the first thirty minutes. Winding mountain roads climbing among the evergreens. Just as I expected, it was beautiful. But then something happened. 12,000 feet of elevation happened.
For those who don’t know, that is the tree line. No more trees to mask the death and horror that surrounds you everywhere. I mean, what were these people thinking? This road, cut into the side of this mountain, is a death trap. One lane each way. No shoulder and no guard rails. Six inches off the road and you will plummet thousands of feet to your demise.
I am not kidding. Six inches out of your lane and thousands of feet of death await you. So your life hangs in the balance, dependent not only on your driving skill but on the driving skill of that guy coming down the mountain in the minivan from Nebraska who has never even seen a hill before not burning out his brakes and forcing you right off the cliff where you will have 14 seconds to contemplate how much you want to kill your brother-in-law before you hit the bottom. Splat.
That was the worst twelve dollars I spent since Avatar.
So then I reached the bottom and being eternally grateful for still being alive, I went to mass. As it turned out, that was a pretty strange experience as well.
I arrived at this Church in Colorado Springs early for mass. I prepared myself and then sat back. I was able to observe the Church filling up and I was impressed. A lot of youngish and largish families. And just everyone was appropriately dressed for Church, even on a hot summer day. The altar boys all had on nice slacks and shoes with their hair combed as they made there way to the sacristy. They all genuflected appropriately. It was all very nice. Until the pastor showed up.
I knew it was the pastor because there was a 2×3 ft. glam shot of him in the narthex. A huge glam shot. I am not kidding. Anyway, he began to say mass. His had this staccato announcer voice thing going on with Shatner-esque pauses thrown in for no good reason.
I semi-successfully ignored it becuase I shouldn’t be focused on such stylistic things. And truth be told, there mass was mostly done properly until…..
Until the jingle.
As it came time for the collection, the pastor thanked the parishioners for their continued generosity. And then he said, “If there are any visitors to our parish…”
And then. Then. To the tune of the Subway Sandwich jingle, he proceeded to sing “Five dollar, five dollar, five dollar minimum.”
Yes, he sang a jingle during mass to suggest a five dollar minimum in the collection basket.
So the moral of this story? Next time your brother-in-law tells you something is a good idea. Go back to bed.
July 18, 2011 at 9:59 pm
The drive up Mt Haleakala in Hawaii is the same. Thing is, when you ascend to catch the sunrise, it's still dark, and you don't notice the drop off's until you come down in daylight. No guard rails either.
July 18, 2011 at 11:23 pm
The Pike's Peak climb was one of our best family experiences…the reward at the top? Best donuts and coffee ever. Plus you get to see what Katherine Bates(?) saw – the inspiration for America the Beautiful.
July 19, 2011 at 4:27 pm
Internet Peasant, I lived for 2 years in the Appalachians. There are hills just as steep in Omaha as any of those mountains. I'm thinking specifically of one near Holy Cross Catholic Church.
Now the Rockies are a different matter, but the fact remains the same: Nebraska does not deserve to be dragged into any debate as the epitome of flatness. There are flatter places, such as Kansas. For that matter, Nebraska shouldn't be brought into debate as the epitome of any of the following: rednecks (Louisiana, where I now live, wins that contest), foul odor (Iowa), poorly educated (Mississippi), corn-central (Iowa).
Now, if you want to think of Nebraska, think about the world's best corn-fed beef, the Reuben sandwich (invented in Omaha), Runza sandwiches, one of the world's largest and most diverse zoos, the College World Series, a unicameral legislature, kool-aide, vice-grips, Dorothy Lynch dressing, and American Bison.
July 19, 2011 at 7:45 pm
This drive is certainly a spiritual experience. Anyone with a hope for salvation prays and sweats profusely on this drive. I remember my husband pointing out the smashed vehicles he saw over the side of the mountain. I dared not take my eyes off the road for an instant to look. The worst part, by far, was the drive back down the mountain. The bottom is a great place for a confessional.
July 19, 2011 at 8:20 pm
Now, Micah, Kansas has the Flint Hills, the foothills of the Ozarks in the southeast corner of the state, and the bluffs of the Missouri River in the northeast. Kinda like Nebraska. 😉
Now western Nebraska, western Kansas and eastern Colorado..That's flat!
July 19, 2011 at 8:52 pm
I go to Nebraska a lot on business. Every time I go there I make a point of commenting to a local, "Wow, it's very nice here. You must love living in Nebraska." So far, not one person has failed to roll their eyes and give a sarcastic answer relating to there being nothing to do there. But…I really do like it. (Although there really doesn't seem to be much to do. I just happen to think it is beautiful and I love the open highways, the stars at night etc. BTW, I have since learned that there are stars at night in other states as well!)
New York drivers… (here goes) IN GENERAL they are more aggressive, less "polite", but much more highly skilled drivers. (unless you think that making sure that tractor goes straight down the corn row makes you more skillful.) They have to be. They drive faster and in more traffic. We spend too much time being polite on the road and not enough time being efficient. Feel free to "cut me off" if the hole is big enough for your car. If I HAVE to hit my brakes because of you, that's not good. I have ZERO time for tailgating though. Fast lane change? Go for it. Driving 15 mph over the limit – excellent, but don't pass other cars by more than 5mph.
Pike's Peak, sounds insane. Are there burned out wrecks along the way?