A Pikes Peak Christmas

Typically, Christmas is spent with family in a family house, all together for the holiday, sharing gifts and smiles with each other. For one of my brothers and me, it meant keeping warm by our fire from the freezing temperatures as snow dumped down around us. This was a White Christmas, camping in the mountains of Colorado.

The trip started in Texas, where my parents live. The day we left and began our drive was Christmas Eve; it was 65 degrees and sunny, which allowed us to work on the truck and prepare for the camping ahead. The Mercedes Sprinter van that we borrowed from our father needed to be checked, modified (by adding side steps), and packed. Late in the evening, around 8 or 9 o'clock, the journey began.

As you can imagine, the roads late at night in Texas are incredibly quiet, especially in a state that's already good for making great driving time. It was even easier. I took the drive to start, and because of the time of day, we were rarely passing cars. We drove for about three hours before my brother took over for another couple of hours, after which we made our first stop for the night. The first stop was in Lamesa, Texas. The town's park had a big fairground and some baseball fields, and it was overnight-friendly. This town, about an hour south of Lubbock, made do for night one. It was around 2 or 3 in the morning when we stopped; dinner was quick and short, consisting of some cheese, crackers, prosciutto, and Christmas cookies. And, of course, after brushing our teeth, we watched some Seinfeld that we had downloaded on the phone to fall asleep.

Christmas morning consisted of no gifts, with everyone in Christmas pajamas. Instead, we quickly found a spot to get some coffee and a breakfast burrito (which might have been from Starbucks, as it was the only place open) before hitting the road, as we still had about an eight-hour drive ahead of us. Our drive took us through Lubbock, north through Amarillo, and into northeastern New Mexico, before entering Colorado, where the home stretch of three hours brought us to our destination outside Pikes Peak, near Colorado Springs.

By the time we arrived, we had less than an hour left of sunlight to get the campsite situated. This involved clearing snow, digging a spot for our fire, and finding additional firewood, as the bundle we had would not be sufficient.

It was cold that night, with temperatures dropping into the single digits, and snow began to fall. With our Helinox camp chairs as close to the fire as we could get them, it was time for dinner. Dinner consisted of about three pounds of boneless short ribs that we had cubed and marinated on Christmas Eve before the drive, some focaccia bread, and a couple of hazy IPAs each. Christmas dinner had no plates, no utensils, no holiday crystal—just picking hot food out of the fire and eating it.

As the snow came down, the night grew late, with country music playing and a few beers shared with my brother. It was about as perfect as Christmas can get.