For summer vacation this year, Mom, Dad, Kevin and Andrew drove the RV out to Colorado for two fun weeks of camping, fishing and exploring. Mark and I were able to meet up with them twice: Once at Estes Park for the weekend, and then in Pagosa Springs for the long 4th of July holiday weekend.

In Estes Park, we spent two nights camping at Mary’s Lake campground. We watched the US v. Ghana world cup game at Ed’s on Saturday, and then spent the afternoon Sunday hiking near Brainard Lake in the Indian Peaks Wilderness.

The hike from Brainard Lake up to Long Lake was a good one for us. Not too long to make the pregnant lady or flatlanders too tired, but we were treated to amazing views of the surrounding peaks the whole time. We ate lunch next to the alpine lake, and watched Liv roll around in the deep summer snow drifts.

Also, there was a Tesla in the parking area. We never figured out who it belonged to.

The sky is a blue dome, stretching overhead for miles. The mountains zip by at 60 mph for hour after hour. The hillsides are green and brown and snow covered. A warm summer breeze fills the valleys and canyons as we weave our way south through Colorado.

Our weekend destination is Penitente Canyon, a hidden sport climbing spot on the western edge of huge the San Luis valley. Our back is to the San Juans, and our view is towards the distant Sangre de Cristo range. The climbs are all relatively short, protected with ample bolts, and on reddish volcanic tuft, covered in plates, pockets and huecos.

We arrive on Saturday to find the BLM campground outside of the canyon nearly full to bursting. The last site available is the group campsite, and we meet Dave and his three kids, who offer to share the site with the six of us (Mark and me, Bruce, Doug, Julian and Ally). We fill every tent pad, and later meet up with two climbers camping in their van, who take one of our extra parking spots. It turns out to be a great group of people, and we all get along fantastically.

Our gang heads into the canyon to get some climbing in on Saturday afternoon, but my head hurts like mad, so I open up the tent and sleep in the shade and the breeze. They all return happily in the evening, joking about huecos and cracks and rattlesnakes.

On Sunday morning, Mark brings me ovaltine in the tent to settle my stomach, and I manage to get through the early hours without throwing up! Wonder of wonders!! After munching on poptarts and grapes, I feel good enough to join in with the climbing.

The day is warm, but not too warm, and we find a few fun climbs in a quiet side canyon. This is my first time climbing since I officially became pregnant, and I am shocked at first at the several inches I have to let out my harness to get it around the baby bump. But once my fingers and toes get back on the rock, everything feels good and smooth and healthy again.

The morning goes better than could ever have been expected. I float my way up a super thin 10b (Concupiscent Curds), and monkey my way through deep pockets on an overhanging 9 (How The West Was Won). I sit in the shade with the dog, and take a ton of pictures. Everybody has a go on at least one climb, and then its lunch and we hike back to camp for snacks and naps.

In the afternoon, we all take turns on a long 7 (Unknown Name), and I discover the heat and hormones of pregnancy have made my brand new rock shoes officially too small. I think I may have made a $130 mistake buying these last spring, as most pregnant women’s feet increase at least a size, permanently.

I want to climb a beautiful, thin, pink slab in the evening light, but I can’t stand the pain of these shoes on my feet any more. It’s disappointing as hell, but really, just another lesson to roll with the punches.

In the evening, we eat hotdogs for dinner, and I’m so exhausted I crash in the tent before it’s even dark. I fall asleep listening to distant quiet conversations around the campfire.

Monday morning, I manage once again to not throw up! (Don’t worry, it comes back next week) Mark makes pancakes which we top with blueberries, and then, in a fit of genius, he puts the blueberries in the batter and the result is breakfast art. We pack up, briefly discuss stopping by the Sand Dune, but decide at the last minute that we don’t really have time, and head for home. Thank you everybody for such a great weekend!

Mark’s parents got a last minute condo rental in Estes Park this spring, and we all decided to make a trip out of it for a fun vacation in the mountains. Bruce flew in from San Diego, and Mark and I drove up from the Fort.

The weather worked out well for the weekend, finally warming up enough to make a day out in the mountains really nice. Also, my nausea has started to subside, and by the start of this trip, I had gotten back a little bit of energy.

We decided to take Mark’s family up Lilly Mountain, one of our favorite hikes in Estes Park. The little summit of this mountain has one of the most incredible views of Rocky Mountain National Park that we have found anywhere.

And it’s just a “short” 2 mile hike!

Two miles doesn’t sound like much, until you’ve spent the last 4 months with your head in a toilette. Mark’s mom and brother were both recovering from colds as well, and hitting a steep mountain trail on their first day at altitude may not have been the best decision.

It was a strong effort, and we all made it all the way up to the summit on Saturday! We all felt very accomplished for the day as we dragged our tired bodies back to the rental. And we all earned our tasty dinners from Ed’s that night.

With me being pregnant (yes, I can officially announce it now at 13 weeks), our weekends have slowed down dramatically. If I can make it outside at all, we’re looking for short, fun hikes and the trip up to Horsetooth Falls fit the bill. As Mark and I pulled up to the (very nice, new, expanded) parking area, clouds were gathering overhead, and a few rain drops spattered on our windsheild.

The hike winds along the middle of Horsetooth mountain, and follows a creek up to the falls. As we were walking, I stopped to photograph a dozen different types of lovely early spring wildflowers that were blooming along the trail.

We actually came to a little bridge over the creek and a nice view of a fairly tall cataract in the creek. Mark and I were not expecting much from the falls, so we assumed this must be it. Mark snacked and read his book, while I scrambled around wet, slimy rocks taking photos of this nice little water fall.

After a few minutes, we noticed that several other groups had hiked right past us and these “falls”, so we decided to see if there was something more interesting further down the trail. Indeed, there was!

When we arrived at the falls, they were much more lovely and dramatic than I had expected. Water rushed over a pink granite cliff line, and plunged into a pool 30ft below. I have heard these falls aren’t much more than a trickle through the summer and fall, but this spring, after all of our rain and snow, the falls were running thick and beautifully.

We admired (read: photographed) the actual falls for another 10 minutes. As we did, a cold wind picked up and the temperature started dropping. We debated continuing on this trail for another mile and looping back through a different trail system, but decided the smart thing to do was to head back to the car before the rain started really coming down.

We made it home dry, happy, and refreshed. And I can recommend Horsetooth Falls as a nice family hike, especially in a wet spring.

It’s early spring in Northern Colorado, and I am as sick as I’ve ever been. It’s a struggle to make it into work each morning, and I find my weekends filled with hours and hours of laying on the couch, trying not to vomit. Despite my nausea and malaise, the northern hemisphere has been slowly warming, the grass is greening along the Front Range, and the beautiful stone of Colorado is quietly transforming into its springtime beauty.

Of course, I’m in no shape to climb. Mark isn’t much better off, as he had a bout of Salmonella poisoning (AFTER we got back from Thailand) that knocked him on his butt for two weeks. A month goes by and we barely get outside enough to walk the dog.

Finally, we just can’t stand it any more. We pack up some water, tissues, lots of snacks and the camera and go find the easiest hike we can. It happens to be in Lory State Park.

We pull into the park around 1p, and the sun is shining brilliantly. We pay the $6 vehicle fee (ouch) and park at a low trailhead, near what looks to be a new dirt-bike park. We decide the low-altitude, nearly flat, east valley trail is the best one for us today, and set out at a slow pace.

We both brought warm fleece jackets, but end up hiking in our shirt sleeves. There are boats out on the reservoir, and we watch as fishermen yell at party-boaters for blasting crappy dance music too loud. Liv chases small rodents between yuccas, and I take a ton of pictures. We meet a few other hikers, dogs and horse-riders out on the trail, but mostly the afternoon is quiet, calm and peaceful.

After a mile or so, we decide to start heading back. Mark wants to turn the walk into a loop, so we cross the road and connect up to the West Valley trail. We follow this for maybe half a mile (past a rowdy group of picnic’ers) and then head back towards our trailhead. Only, we’re not quite as close as I thought, and when I realize how much further I have to walk, I bail. I find a nice picnic table in the sun, lay down, and wait for Mark to go get the car and pick me up.

Not the stunning conclusion to the amazing adventures that we have been blessed with over the years, for sure. But we get outside, we get a little sun and fresh air, and I get a few nice pictures.

Mark and I have taken several trips to Shelf Road, in the desert of Southern Colorado, to camp and climb during the winter. It’s a beautiful canyon filled with miles of pink limestone cliffs, and usually a warm spot in the middle of a snowy Colorado winter.

This year, we were up against a bit of a deadline. With an upcoming trip to Thailand, we wanted to get in climbing on limestone before we left. So, we went against our better judgement and headed down to Shelf even after the forecast had called for snow. Even when we knew it would be bitterly cold at night. Hoping that we’d get just a few hours of sun on the rock, because that’s all we need.

As promised, Friday night was horribly cold. My -10F REI down bag was not fully lofted, and I shivered all night long. In the morning, the sun lit up the tent and promised reasonable temperatures at the cliff. We shivered through cooking breakfast, and then headed towards Cactus Cliffs.

Once we hit the crag, the temperatures soared. It turned out to be a beautiful day – warm rock, bright sun, and lots of happy climbers! (and dogs!)

We hit it hard on Saturday, climbing White Punks on Pockets (5.9)**, La Cholla Jackson (5.8)****, I Lean (5.11a)****, The Book of Dude-Aronomy (5.10d)**, and finishing up on Politically Incorrect (5.10c)****. Three of these five routes get four-stars in the guidebook, so we got a good dose of quality with our quantity.

Saturday night was cold, but slightly more comfortable than Friday. This time, I remembered the 20 pound box of chemical warmers, and I stuck them all over the inside of my bag, the dog, and Mark. On Sunday morning, a huge cloud had rolled in from the east, and a bitterly cold wind was blowing into the valley. We decided to head home.

We had a good, long day on Saturday (for us). Mark said he felt really good, with very little forearm pump even after 5 rough routes. No finger rawness or elbow pain for either of us, so the outlook is good for lots of great climbing in Thailand!