schnauzers.ws

I've been warned this is a grueling climb and that's no joke. Not even ten minutes in and we are all gasping for air.

We continue the relentless steep climb which if not exposed, is often technical.

We reach the mid-point of our climb and the end of the Chimney Gulch Trail. Yielding some views of Golden (my future home town) and the mountains beyond. Yes, that's the Coors brewery on the left in the first pic. Lousy beer (although I did like Killians), but a great tour.

The second half means more climbing up Lookout Mountain trail as the gang waits for the slower climbers (I wasn't the only one).

Then it's another technical ascent to the top. If daylight stayed around a bit longer we'd head down Apex, but this time we had to opt for the out and back. A screaming downhill it was! Seat lowered and ass set back cleaning all but two sections and the dreaded switchbacks. Curse them!

Mmmmm… Mountain…. Aaaaggghhhhhh!

Actually, the "M" is for the School of Mines. Which although I thought was a school for miners, is really the M.I.T. of Geological Engineering. A really tough school to get into. Go figure.

But this Monarchy was angry. Angry at the poor peasants who gathered up their belongings and headed out to pay homage to the kingdom.

Reaching the start of the Monarch's castle gates, the clouds grew dark, moist, and cold. But this wasn't enough to keep the peasants at bay.

The lowly masses should have headed the warning signs the royal family laid down. Even trying to obscure their view.

But no, the deterrent was still not enough. So up the commoners charged.

The King and Queen tantalized and teased us in their displeasure. They began throwing rays of hope and visibility.

And then laughing at the torture that followed.

Then the Monarchy were threw playing with their puppets. They called in their army and unleashed the mightiest assault the peasants had ever seen.

Throwing skin peeling pellets from their skyward catapults, while continuing the grueling of climbing to the castle center.

And with a final call their Knights, the Monarchs unleashed everything they hand with a loud bang and flash of light that sent the peasants scattering for shelter.

Cold, wet, weary, and beaten the once loyal subjects climbed with their last icy gasp. Then they plummeted down a slippery rock step laden path to their decision point.

Do they bow their heads in shame, shivering from the cold and fright or head on to the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow? The greedy youngsters continued on while the elders (going almost the same distance) went back to their huts to rest, eat, drink, and be merry.

The moral of the thirty mile story…

Don't put your rain jacket on AFTER you are wet and cold. It doesn't help.