A while back, Camilla asked me if I’d ever be willing to go backpacking with her. I’ll admit—I hesitated. Despite having run up and down Pikes Peak multiple times, the idea of carrying everything on my back made me anxious. But when your daughter invites you on an adventure like this, you say yes. And I’m so glad I did.
To make things a little easier, I booked us a
bunkhouse at Barr Camp, so we didn’t have to carry a tent. Barr Camp is a historic, rustic cabin complex nestled along the Barr Trail—about 6.5 miles and 3,500 feet up from Manitou Springs, sitting peacefully at 10,200 feet. Originally built in the 1920s as a burro-train rest stop, it's now lovingly cared for by
Karla Lowery & Robert Tegtman, a sweet couple from Ohio who keep the camp running, meals warm, and spirits high for every weary hiker that passes through.
We started gathering gear a couple of months before our trip. We got three Teton Scout 45 packs, inflatable pillows, water filters, a first aid kit, snacks, gels, ice spikes (just in case), and compact sleeping bags. The night before our hike, I set the mood with Wild—the Reese Witherspoon film where she hikes the Pacific Crest Trail. A little inspiration, a little intimidation.
We hit the trail at 5:30 a.m., packs loaded, spirits high... for about a mile. Then reality set in. Backpacking is no joke. Carly summed it up best: "This is the longest mile I have ever walked." We stopped every single mile to rest. The weight of the packs made everything feel slower and steeper—but the views were lush, the stream crossings were refreshing, and the conversations along the way made the time (mostly) fly.
After 4.5 hours, we finally saw the cabins peek through the trees. Carly got a sudden burst of energy and practically ran to them. We had a bunk room all to ourselves, and after a well-earned nap, I even managed to read half a book. We spent the afternoon playing UNO and Taboo—which, hilariously, gave us cards like "Penis Pump" and "Drop a load." We laughed until we cried. Dinner was a warm, hearty spaghetti meal cooked by the caretakers, and everyone in the bunkhouse shared trail stories. One gentleman warned us to wear earplugs because he snored. He wasn’t lying. Later that night, while most were asleep, Camilla accidentally farted during Uno and she and Carly burst into uncontrollable laughter. I was sure they’d wake the whole bunkhouse. Morning brought fluffy pancakes and even more great conversations. We met a woman who had summited Pikes Peak over 100 times, and a church group with kids who had lost family in the military. There was something special about the sense of community up there—total strangers who instantly felt like old friends.The hike back down was so much more enjoyable. We lightened our packs (dumped some extra water) and soaked our tired feet in cold mountain streams. Carly even carried down a trash bag in exchange for a bag of Skittles, adding just a little more weight to her load. We spotted dozens of Columbines, took plenty of pictures, and people-watched as we descended (twins! runners! perfect skin! hilariously slow hikers!). When we finally reached the car, I found a parking ticket on the windshield—I had gone over the time I’d paid for. But when I went to the ticket office, they were kind and let me off with a friendly warning. The perfect ending to a perfect adventure. We spent the rest of the day wandering around Manitou Springs, eating ice cream, shopping for jewelry and sweatshirts, and soaking in the charm of this magical mountain town. The girls now have their own favorite shops and restaurants—just like I always have. Backpacking may have scared me at first, but this experience? It was unforgettable. We were challenged, we laughed, we played, we connected—with each other and with the trail community. I would do it again in a heartbeat.
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