Alighting in Colorado's biggest City
Dave* drops me off at the Greyhound Station in Taos on his way to an appointment , but it’s a little early and it is a depot inside a pawn shop, so it’s not open yet. I walk along the road to the café and wake myself up with some coffee, then head back in time to catch the bus. It’s four hours to Boulder and the bus is relatively empty, so I may be off the hook in terms of social contact. The guy behind me is definitely odd and tries to start conversation a few times, but I studiously ignore him and he finds someone else to talk to instead, so I sit quietly and eavesdrop.
When we arrive in Colorado Springs, I call my Couchsurfing host, Gary*, and he comes to collect me. He is in his early 40s, is a retired firefighter/paramedic, and is going back to study to become a physician’s assistant. He’s also just a little obsessed with health and fitness. He’s just competed in some huge firefighters’ games in Vancouver.
We go back to his place to settle in. I have my own room downstairs with a bathroom and lounge room. I also finally get to do a load of laundry, which is just as well, as I’m only narrowly avoiding going onto “underwear saving time” and I had to buy an ugly $3 t-shirt as an emergency clothing measure. It’s black with “I want to be famous” splashed across it in bright aqua, with sparkles. I have yet to wear it as it dazzles me every time I take it out of my pack.
Gary cooks me a great dinner of Mexican-style chicken. I don’t have the heart to tell him I don’t eat capsicum or onions and the dish is loaded with it. I resign myself to choking it down, but to my surprise, it all tastes good. Maybe I’m getting rid of the last vestiges of my fussy eating phase. In the evening, we both sit on our laptops and get things done. How sad the modern age of communication has made us.
Becoming a Prime Suspect
Gary gets up super early, so I do my best and crawl out of bed just after seven. Gary offers to cook eggs and bacon for breakfast, which naturally I accept. He then drops me over to the next small town, Manatou Springs, at the Pike’s Peak Railway. I’ve tried to book on the 9.20am train, but it is sold out. I figure I’ll go there and buy tickets for whatever is available, then fill the in-between time in the area. When I arrive, I ask if there’s any chance of getting on the 9.20 train and they put me on a waiting list. They seem hopeful. Not only do I get on the train, I get on the smaller train, which is the more popular of the two, and I have the front seat with the best views. Talk about luck.
The train runs on a cog system due to the gradient of the slope – it’s very steep – and I think it is the highest railway in the world. It’s a nine-mile trip up to the peak, which sits over 14,100 feet. The train is far from speedy, but there is a conductor who offers funny commentary to keep us going, and she points out landmarks along the way. One of these is Ron’s house, the only house on the mountain. He takes care of the hydroelectric station there. His driveway is 17 miles long and it is a 60-mile trip one way into town. He must be a pretty lonely man. Near the top of the peak, there are marmot sitting on the rocks near the tracks, jumping off and running away as the train gets close. They look kind of like possums or beavers, but with busy tails.
Once we get to the peak, we have 40 minutes to explore. The panoramic views are stunning and you can get very close to the edge. The air is thin at 14,000 feet, so after a few steps, everyone gets a little light-headed and starts panting. It’s all part of the experience.
The trip back down is the trip up in reverse – literally. The train doesn’t turn around; the driver just changes ends. At the bottom, I decide to walk into town, but on the way, two ladies from the train offer me a ride, which I gratefully accept. I walk around town and grab a wrap for lunch, then head to the Garden of the Gods, a park that stretches between Manatou Springs and Colorado Springs. The park is a few miles away, but there is a visitor centre on the way that I’m hoping will give me a few clues on transport options. Unfortunately not. There isn’t really any transport, but apparently I can catch a bus back to Colorado Springs from the Manatou Springs main road after the walk.
I walk into the park on a road and after about half a mile, come to a place where there are a couple of rocks balanced on small natural pivots. There are loads of tourists here. I buy some water from a guy with a cooler box playing bongo drums at the back of his car and he points the way to another great lookout, with a natural rock arch. I’m trying to decide whether I should hitch hike further into the park, walk, or give up. I start walking and attempt to look pathetic in the hopes that someone will offer me a ride, without me having to stick my thumb out. It doesn’t work. Instead, I walk all the way to the trading post, as I figure this will have visitor services. Nope. It’s just a big souvenir store. They do give me a map of the hiking trails through. The main trail is only about 3 miles, so I should be able to do this one, then head back to the main road and catch the bus back.
The hike is really nice. The trail follows the road quite closely, but the trees and rock formations block the traffic noise. The park is quite green, with huge red rock formations popping out of the undergrowth. I don’t see anyone on the trail. I reach one point where the trail meets up with another trail that circles the main central formation, so I detour onto that one. There are a lot of people on this, as you can drive there. The rock formations are impressive. At one stage, I look down to see a snake slither across the path. I point it out to a guy walking nearby and he calls his friends over. They are in a touring band called A Rotterdam November and are based out of Boise, Idaho. They offer to show me around if I make it there at any point.
I backtrack to the main trail and hike three quarters of the way round, then decide that if I veer off the trail, I can get to the main visitor centre on the Colorado Springs side and that should have public transport. Logically, that should make getting back easier as I will be closer. Should is the operative word here. It should indeed have transport, but it doesn’t. Instead, I have to walk another couple of miles to the main road, with no pavements and no shoulder on the side of the road. Every now and then I have to leap into the bushes to avoid being run over. I finally get to the main road and find the bus stop. After a long wait, a bus even shows up. It’s not actually running – apparently the route I am on closes before 6pm – but the driver feels sorry for me and takes me into town anyway, even detouring to drop me closer to where I am staying. That would have been really handy if I’d walked the right way when I got off the bus. I didn’t. By the time I figured this out, I was 17 blocks away from where I wanted to be, with aching feet. I counted the blocks down as I shuffled my way home, absolutely exhausted.
Gary had sent me a text saying he’d gone on a bike ride, but the house is unlocked and I have Bailey, an old Labrador, for company. That’s fine by me – I need some time to rest. By about 9pm, Gary still isn’t home, so I send him a text asking if he wants me to rustle up some dinner with whatever is in the fridge. No reply. There isn’t much in the fridge but there are no shops nearby, so I make a bacon sandwich. I’m starting to worry about what I should do if Gary never comes back. As a stranger in his house, I’m sure I would be a prime suspect if he disappears. I call him, but he doesn’t answer. I wonder how long I should wait until I call the police, but then in he wanders with a female friend. At least he isn’t dead. He’s all flirty and coy with her, so I think he just ignored my messages. We sit and had a glass of wine, then I excuse myself to go and collapse, relieved I won’t be called in for police questioning.
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