I haven’t spoken about this on the blog, but I wanted to take a minute to thank Powdersville First Baptist Church for allowing me to take this trip. Many of you who are following our journey aren’t members at PFBC, and I would like for you to know that we serve alongside a wonderful church back in South Carolina. Pastor Chad, Pastor Tony, and the rest of the Staff have been picking up my slack while I’ve been gone. We have served together for a long time. I actually celebrated twelve years at PFBC while in Utah. I miss my church family!

During our gourmet Ramen Noodle supper, the mosquitoes showed up in full force. We have had a few battles with them on the trip, but nothing like in Leadville. After supper, I fought them long enough to take an extremely cold shower using my dromedary bag. Once I finished, I asked Maddie if she wanted a shower before I put everything up. She laughed at me. She had been hearing me squeal every time I would rinse my CampSuds off of me, and she wanted nothing to do with that cold water.

Fun fact about Leadville: It is an old silver mining town that is situated at 10,158 feet above sea level. It is the third-highest incorporated town in the United States of America.

In my last update, I forgot to give you the “Tada” count for the Gray’s and Torreys’ descent. Maddie won (or lost) 8-4. Her first “Tada” was crazy. She was almost horizontal before she pulled out the save. I wish that I had been filming. She had another four in the next few hundred yards. I was getting a little boastful as I kept counting behind her. I would say, 1-0, 2-0, 3-0, 4-0, 5-0, and then my pride turned to a fall. I didn’t actually fall, but I’m sure my knees wouldn’t have hurt as bad if I did. We laughed all the way down the mountain.

We woke up to a chilly morning in Leadville with plans to drive to Estes Park, Colorado to climb later in the day. I’ve experienced some bad roads in my lifetime. I remember our trip out west in 1999. It was Chris’ shift to drive, and I planned to sleep in the back of our van that we had converted into a motorhome. I laid down just before we exited Tennessee on I-40 West. Chris’ speed matched the horrible roads perfectly. I’m sure that some people would have been seasick riding the wave that we rode for several hundred miles. Our worn-out shocks didn’t help things. I remember the roads in Romania. You could have hidden a spare tire in some of the potholes there. In Africa, I have been to places where the roads were so bad that if it had rained, we wouldn’t have been able to get out.

As much as I would like to compare Colorado’s roads to third-world country roads, I can’t go quite that far, but I have to say that they lead our country with the worst-kept roads. I-70 west of Denver is crazy. I have a hard time believing that they allow the speed limit to 70 MPH with the holes, bumps, and dips that are everywhere. The bad roads aren’t confined to the interstate either. The secondary roads aren’t much better. Mark, I was thinking that maybe the state DOT is in cahoots with the mechanics out here. I’m sure blown tires, shock replacements, and front-end alignments abound. At first, it was comical, but eventually, it became annoying. Needless to say, we will be glad to get to better roads.

We drove the three-and-half hours to Estes Park to find the trailhead parking area full. It was so full that cars were parked on both sides of the highway for several hundred yards. We were bummed, but there was a climb that Maddie wanted to do. We packed the bags and headed out on the trail. The first half of a mile or so was beautiful and the trail skirted around the pond before heading up the hill. Once we started our ascent, we were wishing that we had given ourselves a recovery day. We inched our way up to the crag with thoughts of waiting in line at an overcrowded climbing area. The temptation to turn around was real, but we pressed on.

When we arrived at “The Edge of Time,” it wasn’t crowded at all. Most of the people must have been hiking around the many trails in the area. We were shocked to find one group of three just finishing up, and a couple of guys climbing a different route. Here is Maddie nearing the chains on a climb that she has wanted to do for almost a year. The route isn’t that hard, but the bolts are spaced pretty far apart. It was a bit sporty for the grade. I wish I could have used the drone to get pictures of this route. The sharp arete and background would have made for some great photos. 

As we talk with people on the trip, I have called us “1000 footers.” Powdersville, SC sits just above 1000 feet above sea level. The effect of the altitude is real. We climbed a little more and decided to get a little rest. All of this activity at elevation is rough on those of us from the low country. Maddie won (or lost) the “Tada” count for the hike back down: 2-1. Young people can handle more “Tadas” than us old people.

I got caught up on the PFBC services that I missed two nights ago, and I listened to Sunday’s service live while I drove. I had a great time singing and listening to the messages. I have been looking forward to this sermon series for months. Two nights ago, as I listened to Pastor Johnny and Pastor Brian, I drove while watching two separate storms off in the distance. I haven’t looked yet, but I’m hoping that I was able to get some good video of the lightning.

I was thinking back to our time in the Book of Acts when Paul was on the ship in the storm. He said this in:

Acts 27:29 Fearing that we would be dashed against the rocks, they dropped four anchors from the stern and prayed for daylight.

When I began planning this trip, I prayed about a sermon series to place between our study through the Book of Revelation. After much prayer, I settled on: Anchors for the Storms of Life. If you attend PFBC, I hope that you have been encouraged by the “Anchor of God’s Word,” the “Anchor of Prayer,” and the “Anchor of Faith and Hope.” Next Sunday, Pastor Chad will finish up the series with, the “Anchor of Christian Fellowship.”

Because He Calls, Old Climbing Dad