Late night creativity strikes yet again. Wonderful. It’s 12:50 AM and in less than 15 hours I’ll be fighting my self-induced sleep depravation during a solo pilot expedition to the Moab galaxy. It’s been a while since I’ve had a really good trip to Moab. This spring Pilot G Munky and I went, but I ended up turning a simple head cold into full-blown pneumonia by deciding to ride the 100-mile White Rim Trail in a day. Why did we decide to do this, you may ask? Well, on this one I claim total innocence, but for Pilot G Munky it had something today with a stunning, blonde, blue eyed, 5'8", Independent Fabrication pro rider of the female species. I was simply playing wingman for G Munky. This little adventure is a story in itself. It ended in a flurry of lost keys, lost voices and two people staving off hypothermia in a garbage bag. Just another day in the life of an Intergalactic Pilot. Anyhow, hopefully my upcoming trip will have the same memories with better health. It’s interesting how the worst scenarios end up being the best memories – the things that will last with us the longest. So here’s hoping for a salvation finding weekend of long rides, red sky’s and a storm or two. A full report will follow.

Speaking of epic days, I had a rather lengthy one this past weekend – involving a hike up a rather prominent 14,000-foot mountain in Colorado called Grays Peak. HIKE?!?! Yes hike my singlespeed friend. There is no sacrilege in hiking. John Muir, who was one of the greatest explorers of all time in the true spirit of IGSSC, hiked. Lewis and Clark hiked. Hell, on any good singlespeed ride there is a fair amount of hiking. Remember that the bike is simply the tool to reach the destination. The bike itself, however, is not the destination. It's the simple difference between embarking on adventures because you love to discover new things, or because you like to be a swag hound.

Anyhow, on this day myself and a fellow Pluto Special Forces Nordic Pilot in training senorita with the call letters AVG embarked on this mission. People often ask me, "how does one become a pilot?" Good question. Being a pilot has less to do with speed or ability, and much more to do with living life to the fullest, making the most of each day. This was AVG’s simple test.

Gray’s Peak is a popular hike that many people embark on up a trail off of Interstate 70. By going this route, one has a relatively leisurely stroll up a smooth trail. Three hours top to bottom max. Of course, as Intergalactic Pilots, this was simply not an option. Pilots must seek more difficult, challenging ways to the top in order to eliminate the genetic mutation of comfort from our systems. We instead opted for the South face of Grays, which left from near the funky little town of Montezuma and utilized a section of jeep roads, broken trails and scree fields to reach the summit. The south face is much more of a challenge, and is less crowded than the often Denver-gentrified I-70 route.

The hike itself is pretty uneventful for the first hour and a half. Basically, you climb up a jeep road/trail to a little hut – aka 1800's brothel – nestled on the shoulder of Grays Peak. Sittings at about 11,000 feet high, the hut must have been some sort of hang out spot for miners back in the day. Today, with its walls and floors in shambles, it's little more than a spot to escape the wind (sort of) and down some Miso Soup and Tea. Even so, it doesn't take much to envision the place as some sort of raucous party house less than 100 years ago. I imagine the people who lived here were in good spirits. They were digging in the dirt to fulfill some sort of personal destiny. Moreover, they were working in the mountains in one of the most beautiful places on earth. It's easy to picture these men (and possibly women) laughing and drinking in the main room, strumming on the guitar after an endorphin filled day of mining at high altitude. The good life indeed.

Out of the cabin and ont the mountain AVG and I went. From here to the top, the hike is basically a scramble up a 3,000-foot screw field at a 45-degree angle. You quickly learn that bigger rocks are better – step on small rocks and you'll likely be sliding down the same amount you just tried to step up. It's tough work, and progress is painfully slow. About 12,000-feet, you definitely start to notice the lack of oxygen.

After about 2 hours of this, we eventually did reach a saddle near the top however. After a quick jaunt up the ridgeline we were soon standing on the top of the 14,270-foot peak. It's always a killer feeling to reach the top of a mountain. Besides the sense of accomplishment, one almost feels like they can touch the sky on a mountain this tall.

Whatever. We may have been able to touch the sky, but in mid-October it's so cold at this altitude that your fingers would quickly freeze off should you attempt it. We opted to head down a different route than we came up. A little less steep – in theory – than the way we came up and more direct (ha!).The descent was a bit like skiing in that you basically power slid your way down a scree field, trying not to catch yourself on an unmovable object. A real concern for Dancing Queen AVG, as her greatest fear in life is falling down, hitting her head on a rock and having her brains spill out. Gruesome indeed, and a legitimate fear. As a fellow pilot I assured her that should such an unfortunate event happen, I would scoop up her brains, put them back in place, gurney up her skull and move on.

Fortunately we made it down the scree field brains intact. After some rather heinous bushwacking through 8-foot tall brown trees, we were soon back at the trailhead, heading back to Montezuma for the best Chai in the world at the Soul House. Alas, however, the Soul House was closed – a minor setback indeed. Still, it did not deter another splendid day – concluded with Intergactic grooving at SOMA until 3 AM – for the Galactic Pilot Pluto Special Forces. Till next time over and out…

DV8