Onyx and the Giant Incline

Our very own Daddy Warbucks took "vacation" off work today so he could fulfill his required handyman duties, working on The Never Ending Home Project That Will Never, Not Ever End. Further delaying his molasses-like progress (due not to lack of effort, but only because a full summer of activity and that pesky thing called an actual, paying job are to blame) I convinced him that rising at the break of O dark thirty and driving 50 minutes to reach the base of the Manitou Incline, then climbing up the bad boy with our 10 year old son would be a valuable use of his sparse time. (Evidence the man will allow me to persuade him of any unreasonable thing. How do I LOVE him? I love him so.)

From the bottom, looking up to the top. Only, it's not the top because once you reach the "top" you see there is still another pretty good stretch before you get to the real top. Um, that's a bummer. 
Before we began, lookin spry!

The 6 am no makeup shot. Yeah, baby.

Midway, looking back. Holy holiness, we are above the clouds. I see you, Jesus!

No matter what, J U S T K E E P C L I M B I N G. Ignore the heart beating out of your chest. You *probably* won't die. And eveb if you do, Jesus is right there to snatch you up.

50 minutes later, the sweet, sweaty victory. How funky it smells.

The proud parents. Not of him, he's 10! Of course the boy can make it! Of ourselves. We are the old ones.

On the way down, bar trail. 3 miles? 2? I don't know. A nice, shaded jaunt.

The boy who did not make one single solitary complaint. Not one. He is a joyful soul, that one. What a pleasure.

Time well spent making treasured memories with our strong and capable man-in-the-making. House project? schmouse schmroject....

We've got more important work to do.