High on Pike's Peak

Cañon City, Colorado

I consider myself a bit of a train riding veteran.  I lived my entire 4 years in Chicago sans car.  I endured the annoyances of the Chicago Transit Authority, covered massive distances by public transit, performed crazy, multistep transfers to get where I needed to go.

But going from 6,000 to 14,000 feet via train is not something I've done before.  Yesterday I summitted the mighty Pike's Peak by boarding the Cog Railway. What is a Cog Railway?  A regular train can handle an incline of about 8%.  A train using a "cog" or rack system can climb inclines up to 48% (the Pike's Peak Cog Railway can do up to 25%).  Basically, a cog train rolls on slotted tracks, instead of smooth ones.  Slotted wheels on the train lock into these slots, so the train can "climb" steep inclines.

This was really neat.  It was a stroke of luck to be able to go to the top of the mountain this time of year.  The top of Pike's Peak in winter can be covered in feet of snow and experience winds of over 100 mph.  In times past no one went to the top of Pike's Peak during the winter.  Lummis reports that the US Signal Station on the top of Pike's Peak (where he crashed), was in "solitary confinement" until Spring.  The engineer said that for most of it's history the Cog Railway didn't run at all in winter.  It was not until the 1970's that the cog railway has been able operate into the off-season, thanks to the construction of a powerful snow plow that can clear the track.  This Martin Luther King Jr. Day was mild enough that we could go to the top.  So I made my reservation, paid my thirty bucks and took my seat.

I was excited as we began our slow ascent up the mountain.  Topping out at 9 mph, I watched enormous boulders, partially frozen streams, and remnants of rusted old water tanks and cabins float past the window.  The cog tracks seem to take up only a narrow swath in the forest without disturbing the surroundings.  As you near the top the vegetation peters out and the landscape becomes tundra.

The Top

We have about 40 minutes to explore the top of Pike's Peak before the train starts back down.  If we miss it we'll "become hikers, " as the conductor puts it. Feeling light headed, I can sense the elevation as I step out of the railway car onto the summit.  The space on the very top of Pike's Peak is about the size of a Walmart parking lot and savors of an extreme environment: rocks, ice, wind-swept snow, blue sky and clouds.  A couple small drab buildings laden with antennae cling to the rock.  The wind is stingingly cold.  I feel a bit like I'm on the North Pole.  The distances you can see all around are staggering, but you are so high the land looks unfamiliar (though you can clearly see Garden of the Gods below, which looks like a cluster of off-color pebbles sticking out of the dirt).  You can also now see the rest of the Rockies beyond the Front Range, as well as the infinite tawny plain to the east.  There's a gift shop on top where you can buy donuts, hotdogs, use the bathroom, and escape the cold wind, which gets tiresome real quick.  A cup of coffee from the gift shop tastes so good and is so refreshing up here after tramping around for a little while.

It's Business Time
Lummis penned his letter of November 5th, 1884 from this remote mountain summit.  The US Army Signal Corps built a small station on the top of Pike's Peak in 1873 to take measurements for weather prediction.  Lummis ran into one of the station agents just coming off the mountain, they chatted and Lummis was offered free board to sleep on the floor of the station.

Lummis hiked up, which is a significant feat.  He says he started at 10am and arrived at the station at 3:30pm.  We picked up two hikers at the top who said it took them 8 hours to make it to the top, so Lummis's time sounds pretty fast.

Anyway, it didn't take a lot of sleuthing to locate the building I am 99% certain is the one Lummis stayed in.  I asked the conductor of the train when I got off where the old signal service station was located, and he directed me toward this ruin.  This must be the one and only station building, because I doubt the powers that be would totally destroy any structure with this history (I mean, there's even ancient telegraph wire visible from the train on the way up, that's how long artifacts hang around here).

I've had a few adventures since coming back down to earth, but I've got to press on to Albuquerque, I'm trying to make progress south to beat the snow storms coming out of California.

Adios,
SHU