What’s better than an all day beer-fest at high altitude, spotting mullet clad American flag waiving rednecks, and peaceful mountain vistas? The answer is simple; Not much, unless you ad loud, high powered gasoline vehicles racing up hill on a mostly dirt road at an average of 75 miles per hour to the mix. The concoction is called the Pikes Peak International Hill Climb, and it takes place on 14,000 foot Pikes Peak, just to the west of Colorado Springs Colorado.

Once upon a time, (almost back when dinosaurs roamed the earth, if you believe in that sort of shit) it was thought that Pikes Peak was an unconquerable mountain. Then this fellow by the name of Pike came along and made it to the summit. It wasn’t long after that a road for automobile traffic was built to the top, and everyone who thought it couldn’t be climbed felt like a huge horses ass. To further make the unbelievers and naysayers feel like a collective pile of crap, the local folks decided to hold a car race to the top every year. PPHIC was born.

87 years later they’re still at it. Most of the race “cars” don’t really look like cars. The fastest of these vehicles look more like a rainbow painted cartoon version of the bat mobile, complete with multicolored wings and and ding-a-lings protruding from every conceivable angle. These items theoretically help keep the car stuck to the ground while it navigates the 12 mile course in 10 to 15 minutes time. Other noteworthy vehicles that were on hand to make Pikes Peak their bitch included a bunch of nut jobs on motorcycles with side cars, Baja style trophy trucks, classic cars, and a Semi Truck class. Unfortunately Both of the semis managed to either break down or take a scenic detour through the trees on the side of the course before they made it to where we were camped out higher up the mountain.

The big winner of the day was Japan’s Monster Tajima with his 1000 horsepower Suzuki SX4, clocking in at 10 minutes 15 seconds. Although it didn’t break his previous world record he set two year earlier of 10 minutes one second, it was an impressive feat to say the least.

Back from Colorado to find this lapping at the shores of the local beaches; 15 to 18 foot with occasional 25 foot sets.

Ah… mid July. While the population at large is busy sunning themselves on a beach, (or in the case of Boulder, Colorado) next to a creek, I find myself sitting in a super-refrigerated office trying to assemble nearly 400 ski related products and reviews into a coherent buyer’s guide for FREESKIER Magazine. While I toil with ski test intro spreads (and updating this blog), Harvey and Shay do stupid stuff like jogging in 90 degree heat.

The fifties were great. Women knew their place, and the world promoted it as such. This was an ad from Life Magazine in 1951.