Three Climbers

You can get to the place shown in this photograph almost immediately from anywhere in Colorado Springs. Garden of the Gods City Park sits on the edge of town in no-man's-land, in an area that's neither as civilized as the city itself nor as wild as the nearby mountains.

A log fence on the edge of the main parking lot stretches along the north side, gently insisting on a single access point. The facilities here are well kept up and thoughtfully laid out. Visitors are given wide, paved paths dyed the color of the surrounding rock, suitable for sneakers and baby carriages. They tame the terrain beneath to a great extent, but can't help but follow the overall curve of the land - some stretches force you to trudge uncomfortably uphill, others pull you downhill a little quicker than you might like.

In spite of that you can move easily through this rough country. Native grasses cover the low hills on one side, dirt-orange slices of rock tower abover you on the other. Informational kiosks dot the landscape, and strengthen your understanding of the area by explaining the things that are going on beneath the surface.

But this is not the park's only entry point. From other parking lots you can see dirt trails that wind into the trees or disappear over a rise. The hike here is rougher. You're forced to watch your step as you pick your way over a rocky, steep incline and even, in some places, find something to grab as you cross a narrow ledge. Each trail seems to have a goal - an interesting rock formation, or a high point with a view. From here you can see the entire area. It's as cluttered as a child's toy chest. Off in the distance you can see the city, small and peaceful.

But climbers can only see rock. A small outcropping, just within reach, is carefully studied and gauged for strength, shape and grip. The climber makes a decision, takes hold, and trusts as he pulls himself up.