I keep going back to Pikes Peak. It was one of our smaller adventures compared to Mt. Everest base camp or the summit of Mt. Rysy but it was one of our firsts. We didn’t know what we were doing, really. We didn’t hit the trail early enough, pack enough food or water, and we didn’t know that a 13-mile hike up a 14,000 foot mountain isn’t the best way to break in a new pair of hiking boots. We pretty much fumbled our way up that trail … not to mention the altitude sickness. At the top of the mountain we ate the world famous Pike’s Peak donuts in a daze … and if it weren’t for the quaint cog railway we probably would’ve never made our way back down.
We spent the next day numbing our pain with beers at the bar of The Great Divide brewery. It seems so obvious saying it out loud, but it was then that I realized the specialness of unshakable bonds forged together in adventure. It was then that I realized I wanted the rest of our lives to be an adventure – weaving us together water tight. But what I overlooked was the love that grew during the rest, recovery, and reflection, over hoppy IPAs and dark chocolate stouts … only after we had come down from the mountain.
Here’s to five years of marriage, beebs. Lately we’ve been fumbling our way up a different kind of mountain (one that we’re guaranteed to never summit)… But what do you say we go grab a beer?