Pikes Peak
When my flight from Seattle arrived in Denver yesterday, we descended down into a world of pure white. You could not tell the sky from the land. As John would have said if he'd been along, "they do it all the time." I could almost hear his voice. There is something disconcerting about landing on a snowy runway and then driving around in a white fog to the terminal. Anyway, I have trouble letting go of small worries in life, but as far as flying goes I'm proud of my Zen-like fatalism. What will be, will be. Later as I sat around waiting for the late plane that would eventually take us to Colorado Springs, the sky lightened, blue sky appeared like a miracle and the snow began to melt before our eyes, despite being 20 degrees outside. This is the marvel of Colorado weather. If you don't like it, wait five minutes.
Before taking off for Colorado Springs, we lined up with the other planes for deicing at the end of the runway. It was an impressive operation-- there were dozens of deicing trucks spread out across the prairie and the planes taxied up to them for service. Snow at SeaTac Airport is considered a natural disaster, but in Denver it looked like business as usual. Later when I landed in Colorado Springs the snow was gone but it was windy and bitter cold, so I decided to stay in town and drive to Cripple Creek in the morning. I was anxious to see my parents but Pikes Peak was obscured by clouds and I didn't feel like driving around its wintry backside at dusk.
As a bonus, Colorado Springs has an altitude of only 6,000 feet, which gives the body a little stepping stone before ascending to 10,000.
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