Talk about your purple mountain's majesty!

"The Birdcage" is a HELL of an undervalued movie.  There are just so many fantastic comedic gems that crack me up every time, and Nathan Lane is the bomb.com.  For those of you who haven't seen it, the son of a gay nightclub owner (Robin Williams) in Miami is about to marry the daughter of an uber-conservative congressman (Gene Hackman), so the girl and her parents are going to have dinner at Robin Williams' house.  Robin Williams and his partner, Nathan Lane now in drag, pretend to be a straight couple, and hilarity ensues.  Anyway, there's this scene where they're all sitting at dinner, and Gene Hackman is just monologuing in the most boring way, describing his road trip down to Miami.  Everyone is bored as hell, but pretending like they are impressed and interested in his story.  He just keeps talking and makes some quip about the mountains, "talk about your purple mountain's majesty".  Anytime I'm in a situation where someone keeps droning on, and people are pretending to listen, I want to comment "talk about your purple mountain's majesty".  Now, there have only been two people who have gotten that reference when I mention it, and Jessie is one of them.  So it happens to work out that I was going to visit her at the site where "America the Beautiful"'s author, Katharine Lee Bates, was inspired to write her poem:  Pikes Peak in Colorado Springs.

As my faithful bloggers know, Jessie was one of my closest and dearest friends at Moron.  It worked out that we were in Spain at exactly the same time, with our families arriving only 4 days apart.  We bonded over our love of Hypercolor shirts (which later got me in trouble), and seemed to have a billion other things in common, including our sense of humor.  She and her husband JJ are both military, and they got a sweet assignment to AFB Peterson in Colorado Springs.  Colorado Springs is also home to the US Olympic Training Center and the Air Force Academy.  I've never been to Colorado, but I've really wanted to visit the past few years.  Now, we all know that I'm about as talented of a skier as a pole-dancing blue whale, so I wasn't about to visit in order to hit the slopes.  If I'm gonna visit Jessie, I'm gonna go in the summer, when the weather is warmer, the hiking is awesome, and the cold microbrews are a flowin'.  Thanks to my trusty pal, Skyscanner, I was able to find a cheaply priced flight to Denver for three days this past August.  Off to Colorado we go!

Denver is a little over an hour from Colorado Springs, and Jessie graciously picked me up at the airport.    We laughed and caught up on the drive towards Colorado Springs, where we could already see the start of an afternoon storm in front of us.  We stopped for lunch at Sonic and avoided the highway to take the more scenic route to the Springs.  On the way, we drove through a really cleverly named town called Frankville that consisted of a school, a volunteer firehouse, and some farmland.  Guess I know where I'm moving next!  Slightly more interesting was the Air Force Academy, so we pulled over to see the famous chapel and quad.  The rain had already started coming down, so we stopped long enough to take a picture of the Academy sign, the chapel, and this gorgeous little pond that's tucked away off the side of the main road.  My first impression of Colorado was a great one, since everything was so green and impressive.  I fortunately didn't notice the elevation difference, but that didn't stop my over anxious brain from taking extra deep breaths to be on the safe side.

After our brief Air Force Academy visit, we drove into downtown Colorado Springs, which reminded me more of a "Main Street USA" than a downtown area.  Set against the Rockies, it's adorably quaint, yet there were a ton of people running and folks walking around.  Jessie and I kept dodging runners and looking at each other like, "Where the hell are they all coming from???"  We passed a few Mary Jane dispensaries, signaled by the neon green crosses (ala pharmacies in Europe) that hung in their windows.  Oh Colorado and your liberal ways!  Jess schooled me about Colorado Springs being a huuuuge evangelical town and uber-conservative compared to the rest of the state.  After she mentioned that, I started to notice all kinds of churches that seemed to be everywhere.

We stopped in a bar called the Twisted Pelican that advertised $2.50 Happy Hour beers.  There were only a few people there, so we sat at the bar to settle in with a microbrew.  I asked the bartender, who bizarrely had one of the Madagascar penguins tattooed on his forearm, what kind of microbrews they had.  He said to just name a beer, because they had a ton.  I joked, "Okay, I'll have a Miller Lite", and he looked at me like I had snakes coming out of my nostrils and said, "That's not a microbrew."  NO SHIT.  Disappointed that my joke fell flat, I just told him to get me something good.  I was happy with his choice, and Jess ordered an Angry Orchard cider.  We were talking with each other when all of a sudden the bartender, in an attempt to make small talk, walked over to us and complained, "Oh man, I hope my allergies don't bother me tonight."  It was the type of comment that you'd make to friends who have some context as to what you're talking about, not to total strangers.  Unsure of how to respond, we awkwardly said, "Oh... that sucks."  I think he took the hint because he wandered back over to his group of regulars while Jessie and I exchanged puzzled looks.  Meh, guess I can't blame him for trying to initiate conversation.

We walked around downtown for a bit more before deciding to go to dinner at the Phantom Cannon Brewery.  Jessie had heard from friends that they had great food and beers, so it seemed like the logical place to go.  We were both mildly full from lunch, so she just ordered spinach dip and I ordered these BLT appetizer sliders.  Now, these just weren't regular ole BLT's, because the bacon was FRIED.  WHY HAS NO ONE THOUGHT OF THIS BEFORE??!!!  Holy moly, were those bad boys good.  Washed down with a Phantom Cannon IPA, and it was the perfect meal.  The gorgeous dining view didn't hurt either...

Beers and bacon

After dinner, we went back to Jessie's house and hung out with her girls before collapsing in bed.  We had an early day of biking the next day, so a good night's sleep was crucial.  I must've slept really well, because I popped right out of bed when my alarm went off at 5:45.  Knowing me oh so well, Jessie booked us for a mountain bike ride down Pike's Peak, the highest elevation point in Colorado Springs.  Fresh off the biking trip with my mom, I was GEARing to go on another biking adventure.  We were supposed to meet at the bike shop in Old Colorado City at 7:30, and we wanted to make sure we were on time.  We stopped at a Dutch Bros. coffee location on the way, and Jess explained how they were originally an Oregon chain and only recently had started branching eastward.  The coffee locations are drive-thru only and shaped like a windmill.  The people greet you like they know you, and I honestly thought that the guy taking our order recognized Jessie from before.  They'll be like "Hey guys!  How's your day going?" and just be overall awesome.  I looked at Jessie and said that I needed the Dutch Bros. people to be my new best friends.  Thinking that there was going to be coffee at the bike shop, I only ordered a small "Kicker", a regular coffee with Irish cream.  At the first sip, I immediately regretted only ordering a small because it was the BEST coffee I've ever had.  And I don't say that lightly; I'm a Dunkin' gal through and through, so you know that the coffee was amazing.  Hell yeah, Dutch Bros.

We went to the Pike's Peak Mountain Bike Tours shop and had the "included breakfast" of a bagel with no spread.  When we walked in, there was Christian music playing, and I silently worried that we were gonna be stuck with a bunch of preachers.  Fortunately, it turned out that I was wrong, and the three workers were super nice.  There was a guy in his 30's who was going to be our van driver, and a college girl who would be our guide.  When we arrived, there was already a young New Zealand girl waiting, and the rest of the group arrived soon after.  We watched a safety video, and the guy tried to convince us to rent helmet cams for like fifty bucks.  Uh, I'll pass, thanks.

We all squeezed into the van that was topped with our bikes and road to the Old Cog railway at Pike's Peak.  Part of the group, Jessie and me included, were going to take the old cog train to the summit of Pike's Peak, while the rest of the group would ride in the van.  When we arrived to the old timey looking train station, the guide pointed out the Pike's Peak incline, a hiking trail that is basically vertical.    He said that it usually takes people around forty minutes to reach the top, and that Apolo Anton Ohno can reach the peak in 16; not surprising considering how in shape Olympic athletes need to be.  Both guides mentioned a local guy, Matt Carpenter, who always wins the Pike's Peak marathon and can get to the top in a ridiculously fast time.  It only takes him 3 hours TOTAL to run to the top and back.  That's over 14,000 feet!  Unfortunately for us, we heard this fact what seemed like a million times from different people, and were cursing Matt Carpenter after the fifth story about him.

Damn you, Matt Carpenter!!!

We boarded the train with the rest of the group and sat in a group of seats with the girl from New Zealand and a family of three from Jupiter, FL.  The ride was about an hour and a half and offered some really spectacular views.  There was a young girl who narrated our ride to the top, delivering some pretty great (as in bad) puns that made me chuckle.  We also learned some cool facts about the area, and she pointed out the different vegetation that grows on the mount.  There were these trees that had this white bark, which doubles as SPF 5 sunscreen if you scratch it off the trunk.  The views became more spectacular the higher we climbed, since the trees cleared out due to the increased elevation.  With the increased elevation, however, came increased cold, and we had to close the train windows to keep warm.  I only brought a carry on bag to CO and had forgotten cold weather clothes, so the only warmth I had came from the sweatshirt that Jessie had lent me.

All aboard!  Toot toot

It was full on COLD by the time we got to the summit, and the temperature couldn't have been higher than 35 degrees.  Lucky for us, there was a warm souvenir shop that served hot cake donuts.  I picked up a souvenir magnet, and we both grabbed a warm donut with which to enjoy with the view.  And the view was SPECTACULAR.  Since it was a sunny morning, you could just see for miles all around you.  Jessie yelled out, "Talk about your purple mountains' majesty!", but I was sadly the only one in on the joke.  Speaking of purple mountains' majesty, there was a large plaque commemorating the lyrics, which Jessie and I laughed about.

We took cover from the biting wind by the van, and were able to score two pairs of sweatpants to wear over our capri leggings.  I ended up with these huge, ill-fitting sweatpants that had a rip in the crotch and kept falling down.  It became the running joke that I needed to keep my pants up.  I didn't care though; my legs were a helluva lot warmer than they were a few minutes before!  Jessie and I also got a spare pair of gloves, which naturally prompted us to say, "Uh yeah, it's the Rockies!"

Booty-ful

Once everyone ate their donuts and drank their coffee, we set out on our descent down Pike's Pike.  The beginning of the ride was a little harrowing, because there were no guardrails, and you had to share the (relatively) narrow road with cars and other bikers.  Despite the initial "holy crap" moment, the no-guardrail view was definitely worth it.  There was nothing but trees and lakes below us and other mountain ranges in the distance.  Our group leader set a slower pace, and we had to ride our brake around the hair pin turns that were populating the peak.  With any group, there's always an asshole who has to get in front, and this trip was no exception.  Surprisingly though, the asshole in this group was a father who kept telling his little girls, no older than 8 and 10, to go around us, despite them being the slowest ones in the group.    What's more, he kept coddling them and asking them every other minute if they were alright.  Classic helicopter parent.  In addition to the dad, his wife and kids, there was that family from Jupiter, the girl from New Zealand who spent a month every summer (winter for them) in the US, and an older guy and his sassy wife who cracked us up and seemed to delight in everything.  Everyone was very nice, but it seemed like no one announced that they were passing except for the little girls.  Their dad didn't even say "on your left!"  Jessie and I made sure to compliment the little girls loud enough for the rest of the group to hear.  The father and son from Jupiter were the WORST though and would come zipping past you full speed.  The dad had headphones in, so he didn't even hear the guide tell everyone to make sure that they announced they were passing.  Finally, Jessie yelled at the son to say something, and his mom heard her.  She then yelled at both her husband and son for not listening.  Although they still didn't announce they were passing, at least they were hearing it from someone other than us.

We stopped a few times on the way down, to allow for the van to catch up to us.  Every stop seemed to offer another gorgeous view, and we fortunately stopped long enough to take some pictures.  Despite bringing our good camera, there's no way you can really capture what it's like to be up so high and looking down on the world around you.  Hopefully you'll be able to tell how beautiful everything was.

Standing on top of the world

We tried, and failed, to climb these

When we stopped for a bathroom break in Pike's Peak forest, it was a lot warmer and we were able to shed some clothing.  I got to say goodbye to my crotchless pants and the extra pairs of gloves, so I could stop being the butt, pun completely intended, of jokes.  One of the greatest views of the day came when we stopped at a lake at the bottom of the Peak; along with the view came an injury for me when I gracefully dropped my bike on the inside of my ankle.  I got to be the only person injured on the trip and sheepishly asked for a Band-Aid.  I don't know how I always seem to drop bikes on my legs; maybe I'm just cursed.

Care for a swim?

So I get why we stopped at the lake, because it was pretty and all, but the stop was RIGHT before three really intense hills, for which we now had no momentum.  Couple that with the thin air, and we were set up for failure.  Despite the odds being against us, there was no way that Jessie and I were gonna get bested by some kids and old people.  The driver also joked that people would be shamed if they walked the hill, so that gave us additional motivation to push (or pedal) through the pain.  Just as I was about to pass out, we were at the top and took a break to eat some wild raspberries that were growing on the side of the hill.  Jesus, how hippy does that sound?  We rode through the rest of Pike's Peak forest, weaving down the road and picking up speed as we flew through the fir trees.  Jess and I kept getting frustrated because our tour leader would brake to not lose the group, killing our momentum.  Despite not cruising at quite the speed we wanted, it was an awesome ride, totally exhilarating.

We reached the bottom shortly after, and we all congratulated ourselves on having a good ride and no one dying.  Jessie and I spent pretty much the entire time laughing, and I'm glad that we were able to do something so fun and unique together.  Definitely worth the visit.

When the vans pulled up, our guides loaded up our bikes and gave us menus from the restaurant where we were going to eat.  It was already 2:00, and we were STARVING.  The restaurant was a Greek place that Lonely Planet had actually recommended, so we were pretty jazzed for that.  I ordered a chicken kebab pita, and we all made our way to the restaurant.  When we got there, I asked for some sriacha sauce to put on my pita to make it like the kebabs we loved in Europe.  Our waiter kept forgetting to bring it to me, but he was cute and totally charmed his way out of me getting annoyed with him.  When I finally got the sauce, despite their head start, I inhaled my kebab and the orzo Greek pasta salad that came with it so quickly that I finished before the rest of the group.  I probably looked like a typical gluttonous American to the girl from New Zealand.

After lunch, we were so full but went back to Dutch Bros. anyway.  I learned my lesson from that morning and ordered a large iced Kicker.  We were also able to get some of the famous Dutch Bros. stickers that they give out, so it was a complete and total success.  It was only 3:30 when we finished eating, so we decided to walk around Old Colorado City and check out the shops there.  What I loved about Colorado Springs was the quaint feel to all the downtown areas.  There weren't any big name brands, and all the shops were locally owned and quirky.  For example, next to the Greek restaurant was a shop that sold "magic wands".  We found this jewelry and clothing store that was right up my alley, and I walked away from there with a jewelry box and jewelry holder that were both by a local artist who was known for her "gypsy art".  The store might as well have been named "Courtney's Home" because I wanted to buy everything in sight.  Elliot's lucky that I only walked away with what I did.  After poking our heads into some other shops, we went into a shop that was right up Jessie's alley:  rooms upon rooms of pottery, fire pits, knick knacks, wooden carvings, and other such random coolness.  We both had found our Meccas.

Joy!

When we got back to Jessie's, it was already 5:00, but we were so full that eating dinner was not gonna happen.  While the rest of her fam was eating dinner, a thunderstorm quickly turned into a wild hailstorm.  You can tell that their dad's a weather specialist, because before it started Lindsey piped up with, "The rain drops are really big; that means it's going to hail soon."  Sure enough, a few minutes later pea-sized hail started hammering the ground.  Jessie hurriedly pulled her new car into the garage, and we all marveled at the piles of hail that started growing in their yard.  I haven't seen hail in forever, but I guess it's pretty common during Colorado summers.  After the hailstorm, JJ went off to work the night shift and Jessie and I played this game Quelf with the girls.  It's a lot of fun, and it's kind of like Cranium, what with the different categories.  After the girls started getting ready for bed, Jessie introduced me to Drunk History.

Honestly, I don't know how I lived without Drunk History in my life.  I mean, it combines three of my favorite things:  history, comedy and beer.  I'm actually a little ashamed that I didn't come up with the show idea myself.  Basically, the show's host travels to different cities and goes to local bars.  He meets drunk people and goes to hang out with them at their places after they leave the bar.  He then prompts them with some line about history, and they start re-telling, in their slurred words, stories from history.  That's great by itself, but then they have famous comedians acting out the story that they're telling.  Oh my God, we were dying laughing; I'm talking laughing so hard that tears well up in your eyes ("We're looking for a dick named W.E.P").  Honestly, I'd be so good on this show, it's not even funny.  You've gotta check it out.  Here's a taste.  You're welcome.

The next morning, we were out of the house by nine and our first stop was Dutch Bros, naturally.  We went to Garden of the Gods, which has some of the most amazing rock formations I have ever seen.  There weren't a lot of people there yet, so we were able to hike around and enjoy a beautiful morning.  Such a cool way to start the day.

Call me Atlas, bitches

Climbing the ladder

Gorgeous.... dirt?

At the recommendation of Meagan Kautz, a fellow Air Force wife and friend now stationed in Colorado Springs, Jessie and I went to Manitou Springs, a small town that Meg said would be right up my alley.  Unfortunately, like a lot of Colorado this summer, there was some bad flooding that hit Manitou pretty hard.  The flooding seemed specific to one area of Manitou, and the majority of shops would still be open.  We parked in an open lot and had lunch at the nearby Heart of Jerusalem, recommended by Lonely Planet, natch.  I had this amazing beef kebab and the best hummus I've ever had in my life.  Seriously, I wanted to Scrooge McDuck it in a swimming pool full of that stuff.  While we ate, there were what looked like home movies of women with fake boobs belly dancing.  Kind of a random ambiance, but the food was so good that we just embraced it.

What impressed us about Manitou was that the entire community had come out to help with clean-up efforts.  I'm talking young kids to older men and women.  It was pretty awesome to see a community come together to help out the local shop and cafe owners who were hit hardest by the floods.  We walked the perimeter of Manitou, ducking into local shops every now and then.  The shops were just as quirky as the ones in Old Colorado City, and I once again could have bought out entire stores.  Good thing that I only brought a carry-on.

Even the map is SQUEE worthy!

After seeing candy cigarettes in the stores of Manitou (no joke), we stopped at Dutch Bros. again for my fourth, and sadly final, coffee from there.  I tried to slyly document our visit there, but was totally busted by the Dutch Bros. worker.  He willingly posed for me, and I came to love Dutch Bros. even more.

New besties

Eff yeah

We still had plenty of the day to enjoy, so we decided to check out the US Olympic Training Center in the hopes of rubbing up on Ryan Lochte.  There were some pretty epic photo ops outside the Visitor Center, including medal podiums and statues of athletes in motion.  Once inside the Visitor Center, you aren't allowed to just walk around.  You have to take a tour, so we played around on the interactive equipment while we waited for the next tour to start.  We also walked through the Hall of Fame and checked out the displays that had memorabilia from past Olympics.  When the next tour was ready to begin, we took a seat in the auditorium and watched videos about the 2008 Winter Olympics in Vancouver and the 2012 Olympics in London that made us swell with patriotism and get choked up about Ammurikah.  We thought this was going to be the most kick-ass tour ever, and we were both pretty amped up when the movies ended.  Unfortunately, the movies were much more exciting than our actual tour guide, who was boring as hell and didn't really give us that much info.  He walked us through the courtyard to the boxing training area, where he "quizzed" us on Olympics history and we stood there awkwardly and overlooked the Denver women's volleyball team practice.  Our next stop was the gym, where there was fencing above the glass door that seemed out of place.  I guess they had to put the fence in because athletes were climbing over the door to get into the gym after hours.  Given the number of excuses I have for NOT going to the gym, that is even more impressive to me.

We went into the connecting wrestling gym, where one guy had just finished a practice.  Our guide asked if anyone knew the difference between freestyle wrestling and Graeco-Roman, and then asked the wrestler standing there if he could elaborate more.  The wrestler's name was Caylor, and he was MUCH more interesting to listen to, as he explained the difference between the two styles and how the wrestling world is trying to get the IOC to reinstate wrestling as an Olympic sport.  He was pretty awesome and encouraged us to add him as a friend on Facebook.  Jessie and I cast glances at each other and immediately whipped out our phones to add him.  Done, son!  He later accepted our friendship, and I've been following how he's been doing at the World Championships in Budapest.  

After leaving the wrestling gym, we walked around the grounds a little more and saw the dorms where the athletes stay while they're in training.  Jessie and I both answered trivia questions correctly and got packs of trading cards as prizes.  I opened mine up and was pretty jazzed to get Misty May Traynor.  I gave the rest of the cards to Jessie to give to the girls, but I kept Misty.  I doubt it'll be worth anything, but it was still pretty cool.  I picked up an Olympic flag from the gift shop for my mom, and we made it back to the car before the skies opened up for another afternoon storm.

We relaxed a bit back at Jessie's house before picking up Meagan and going to dinner with the kids at Rock Bottom.  It was awesome having a mini-Moron reunion, the food was great, and the company amazing.  Jessie and I laughed because everywhere we went, people kept over sharing info about their lives with me.  Maybe I have a face that causes people to open up, but by the time we left Rock Bottom, we knew that the waiter's wife was pregnant with a baby boy, and that he lived with his sister and her few kids.  

After dinner, Jessie and I watched the remaining episodes of Drunk History before hitting the hay early.    Despite having an early flight, Jess graciously drove me to Denver before she had to go to work, where we gave each other big hugs and I thanked her for having me.  My three days in CO were packed with a ton of laughs, activities and Drunk History.  Just how I like it.  I wish Jessie and I lived closer, but we're the type of friends who don't miss a beat when we reunite after not seeing each other for awhile.  Those are the best kinds of friends, and I'm glad she's one of mine...