Run to the Shrine (2025 edition)

I wouldn’t normally head to the Cheyenne Mountain Zoo in the evening, let alone late on a Sunday. 

The draw of the Run to the Shrine remained undeniable all these years - two miles up, two miles down, 1,000 feet in elevation change. Plus, it’s the only time of the year when the Cheyenne Mountain Zoo allows pedestrians on the highway to the Will Rogers Shrine to the Sun on the mountainside. The shrine stands sentinel on Cheyenne Mountain, visible from much of the zoo and the hills below. 

A week after the Manitou Incline, the 1,000 feet of elevation between the zoo and the shrine felt much less strenuous. The climb up the mountain road still presents a challenge, but not on par with the Incline. The course includes no actual stairs, which helped immensely. 

One of the mountain goats lounged on the little rocky hill in the middle of their exhibit, the sun’s rays brightening his white fur. I watched him for a second, but this zoo visit wasn't really about animals. 

Around the corner was the start line for Run to the Shrine’s second day (it goes on Saturday and Sunday). I arrived just in time to join the initial wave of people, a wall of humanity headed up the mountain. 

In retrospect, I could have waited 20 minutes; the Run to the Shrine isn’t timed, and the Zoo gives participants a three-hour window to finish the course. But it was Sunday and wanted to get off the mountain as early as I could. 

Running never crossed my mind on the way up. But I kept a pretty solid walking pace. I thank my walking routine and the newfound stamina for easing passage up Cheyenne Mountain. I try to get to 10,000 steps every day, although in summer I have moved toward getting above 5 miles if I can. I doesn’t happen every day, but if I get six days out of seven, I feel on course. 

If I made frequent stops, it was due to the perfect spring weather for the event. The clear skies made for wonderful pictures of the region. The sun moved west and the blinding light of the first mile mostly dropped into the shadows. From there, the wind picked up and the temperatures dropped 15 degrees. 

Soon enough the switchbacks switched more tightly and the top of the hill appeared, capped by the tower. The shrine was built by zoo founder and Broadmoor Hotel developer Spender Penrose to honor humorist Will Rogers, after Rogers died in a plane crash in 1935. Penrose and his wife Julie are buried in a crypt at the 100-foot tower’s base. 

I heard disappointment from people expecting to visit the shrine during the race. It’s open to driving on most good weather days but the volume of people completing the run requires it stays closed. 

On the way down, I could have run. But I remembered the 2020 run, when I did let gravitate pull me and ended up tweaking my feet. The pain lasted a few months, so I decided against doing anything I wouldn’t normally do. Only around the last turn through the upper reaches of the zoo did I finally break into a jog, crossing the finish to a race against myself. 

At the bottom, I decided I wasn’t cooking dinner and grabbed a cheeseburger on the windy promenade that overlooks the city. I checked out a wildlife exhibit, where several zookeepers showed off some rare items, including a rhinoceros horn and giraffe skin, which was incredibly soft. 

The mountain goat still posted on his hill as I walked out. The real wilderness display came on drive out. Between the turkeys and the mule deer, I saw more animals in the sun-dappled hills below the zoo than the zoo itself. Whether wild or zoo, the shrine loomed over them all, soon to close to pedestrians for another year.

Garden of the Gods in the far distance