Iceberg Lakes

I told Gordon, “Let’s camp at Clayton Lake for a couple of nights and go to Iceberg Lakes. Nobody goes there; we’ll have the place to ourselves. I know a game trail that will take us there with ease. We don’t need a permit, so we can go any time. Pick a date.”

I’m afraid I gave him some misinformation.

I’m always paranoid about parking at the trailhead. We were early enough on a weekday to have no problems, but when we got back to the car on Sunday, a bit after noon, cars were parked for a quarter of a mile down the side of the road.

On the back of my map I had scribbled a note: “about 300 yards past coil of cable, take the game trail to the left, next to a sawn tree trunk.” I probably mentioned the coil to Gordon three or four times. I had a chat with a hiker going the other way and asked her if she saw the coil. She said she had on the way up but not on the way down. The trail had been worked on in a few places and I was wondering if maybe they’d taken the cable away.

All of a sudden, we arrive at Crater Lakes. I never saw the coil. Without the coil as a landmark, it’s a tough ask to pick the right downed tree trunk. So much for finding my nice game trail. Not a big deal, though, as it’s pretty easy navigation. Unfortunately, we never did find a game trail, which surprised and disappointed me.

We arrived at Clayton Lake a few minutes after one. We take the obvious best campsite, at the edge of a large meadow atop a short slope above the lake. Two hours later, two guys show up. There aren’t many places to camp; they ended on a shelf above the other side of the lake.

So much for having the place to ourselves. The next day, another two backpackers showed up and a handful of day trippers visited. The first two backpackers asked, “Are you fishing, or doing anything else exciting?” Different strokes, but I never considered fishing “exciting.” When we told the other backpackers we’d been to Iceberg Lakes, they asked if we fished up there.

After sitting beside Clayton Lake for several quality hours, it’s obvious why people like to fish there: the lake is loaded with fish. So many were rising, there were so many ripples, it looked like it was sprinkling. The fish are pretty well camouflaged, but if there’s no glare on the water, they’re easy to spot. Every one I saw was between six and eight inches long.

Friday night, I discovered that I had a bit of a technical issue. I carry a small battery pack on these hikes so I can charge the phone or the action camera. It’ll even charge my new Steripen. Unfortunately, it wasn’t charging my new phone. Gordon had a battery pack, too, but my phone didn’t like it, either.

The problem is, I haven’t figured out how to use the Insta360 without using the phone. And it puts a surprising load on the phone’s battery. I’d been doing some filming during the afternoon, and, well, the phone battery situation wasn’t good. I’d have to keep the phone turned off except when I was working the Insta.

Saturday, we hiked up to Iceberg Lakes. Clayton is at about 11,000′; Iceberg Lakes are about 700′ higher, just 300′ below the Continental Divide. Reading the map, it looked like it might be possible to climb alongside the outlet of the southern lake. In actuality, that doesn’t look like a very fun route. Instead, we climbed some grassy ramps up the right side and gained the northern lake from the northeast.

It was a fun little climb. We avoided willow and Krumholtz almost entirely and only had to cross a couple of small talus fields. We passed a shelf that the map shows holding one pond; today there were three. About here we encountered Bullwinkle the Moose. He was a big boy, and he was on a mission to visit those three ponds. We were pretty much in his way, but he didn’t care. I kept a small cluster of stunted trees between us as he passed.

The northern Iceberg Lake is sort of gourd-shaped. The smaller, northern part of the gourd is covered with slabs of ice, free-floating – not connected to the shore. The southern lake is nearly round, and about two-thirds ice-bound. Even at the edges, the ice is thick enough to carry a couple of pretty large rocks that had fallen onto the lake over the winter. There’s still a bank of snow on top of the ice. Sapphire pools of water dot the area.

I passed the time relaxing on the saddle above both lakes. Gordon explored, as he usually does. From the saddle, you can see hikers on the Continental Divide Trail. When I first saw them, I thought they were crossing over from Crater Lakes. It’s a busier trail than I’d have imagined; I saw nine hikers in an hour or so.

As can be expected along the Continental Divide, it was on the windy side. After some time at the southern lake and on the saddle between, we looked for a spot out of the wind at the northern lake. We found little relief.

On the hike out, we managed to retrace our footsteps almost exactly, but we did not see Bullwinkle.

Late that afternoon, we were sitting in our camp. Here I should mention that I bought a camp chair. It folds down pretty compactly and weighs only a pound, four ounces. Or is it 1.4 pounds? In any event, I enjoyed relaxing in a chair. We were shooting the shit when we heard a loud splash in the lake. Our friend Bullwinkle walked across the western end of the lake to get to the south shore. He climbed up to where we think the first backpackers were camped the previous night.

Sunday morning, we considered whether we wanted to go out the way we came in, or follow the old trail down the outlet stream that everybody else uses. We stuck with our route. Unfortunately, we traversed around the slope without descending enough, and before long, we were on a ridge about 250′ above Crater Lakes. We backtracked a bit to find a place to descend. It was only near the bottom of our descent when we came across a nice game trail. It was the one I followed out last time, the one I missed on the way in..

Reaching the trail, the first person we met was a volunteer ranger. He quizzed us on our bear etiquette and made some notes in a little memo pad. I wanted to ask, Bugs Bunny style, whatcha writing, doc? I wanted to ask, Dad joke style, if this was going on our permanent record. I behaved.

It was a nice trip. Even if it was more crowded than expected, even if we missed the game trail. Clayton Lake is unspectacular, but I’m jaded. It’s a great place to fish, but bring the heavy-duty bug spray, because it’s a mosquito-rich environment.

Return to Pitkin Lake

I hiked to Pitkin Lake two summers ago. About halfway to the lake, it started raining. After a while, I gave up and turned around. Then it cleared up, and I turned around again. I got to the lake, but didn’t even have time to sit down and relax because I needed to get to the trailhead at a specific time for my ride home.

It deserves another visit.

July 1, 2025

Last time, I had Michael drop me off at the trailhead. This time, I parked in town and took the shuttle. I’ve done that for a few of these Vail hikes, and the parking was always free. No longer: now you have to pay for parking. Naturally, when I got to the trailhead, there was plenty of parking. Should have scouted parking at the trailhead before parking in town.

It was a beautiful day, nary a cloud in the cobalt sky until after noon. The temperature was perfect, the wind was calm. Couldn’t ask for a nicer morning.

The hike is steep, and my pace was slow. It took me three and a half hours to get there, taking only a five-minute plum break. One nice side-effect of a rather steep hike is that Pitkin Creek features some spectacular falls.

When I arrived at the lake, there were four other hikers there; two pairs. I found a nice spot where I could neither see them nor be seen and tucked into my picnic lunch. About halfway through my sandwich, I spotted a mountain goat on the other side of the lake, working her way toward me. Given the topography, I figured there was a good chance she’d want to go right past my picnic spot.

I couldn’t see much of the shore to my right, but these goats love standing on rocks, and she popped up on the rocks about eighty yards away and looked me in the eye. A minute or two later, she looked at me from atop a rock thirty yards away. Yup, she knows I’m here and she’s coming this way anyway.

I was right on the water on a small peninsula, with an eight-foot wall of rock to my left. To the right, I can climb a steepish rocky/grassy slope to the top. So I go up there and a minute later, here she is, ten yards away. I told her to leave me alone and to keep moving. She was standing on the neck of my little peninsula, so I was stuck between her and the water. It would not have been funny for her to push me into the lake.

After I waved at her and shooed her, she kept on her way. I went back down to the water to finish my lunch.

A short while later, I swallowed the last bite of my candy bar disguised as a protein bar and stood up. I startled her. She had come back and stood over me, almost breathing down my neck while I finished my lunch. I had no idea she was there.

Just as I started back, a group of hikers arrived. Three people and a dog. I pointed out the goat and suggested they keep an eye on her as she wasn’t shy. I also said there were quite a few marmots around. She said, “Yeah, I’ve been hearing them, but I haven’t seen any. I had to put the dog on the leash because he was in heaven!” I didn’t point out the obvious that her dog being off the leash was probably why she never saw a marmot.

Over the course of the day, I encountered eighteen other hikers with four dogs. All were off-leash.

On the hike out, when I crossed Pitkin Creek below one of the impressive falls, it started to rain. I little sprinkle doesn’t bother me, but the clouds to the north were looking threatening. Walking through a meadow, I could see the broad leaves of the ground cover shudder when hit by a raindrop. Just here and there at first, but the drops are big. Before I cleared the meadow and got back in the trees, it wasn’t a sprinkle but a shower, raindrops making all the leaves dance. I donned the raincoat. This is pretty much where I got rained on the first time. At least the gods were kind enough to let me relax at the lake for an hour!

A few minutes after putting on the raincoat, the thunder began to rumble. I didn’t see the flash of lightning all day; it was probably in the neighboring valleys. The thunder wasn’t the crack-so-loud-you-jump sort, but the deep, rolling rumble. After each peal, graupel would fall for a minute or two. A few minutes later, another long, slow rumble and another minute of graupel.

At times, it seemed like I was just a few yards from the edge of the storm. For more than a few minutes, I was hiking in a moderate shower in full sunlight. I was being teased. It rained for about an hour and a half. Just before it quit, it threw in a final thunderclap so loud and close it made me jump.

The rest of the afternoon was beautiful.

June Summary

What I did in June, summarized.

June 8 – Colorado Concours

The Colorado Concours is held every year on the grounds of Arapahoe Community College. It’s one of the biggest car shows in Colorado every year. I’ve entered the car half a dozen or so times. There’s a category for elite judging. I never subject myself to that. Elite judged cars often are like museum pieces: rare, historically significant, and pristine. My car is none of those. When I opt to get the car judged, it’s by the club. If we get more than a dozen cars to turn out for this show, it’s a good year. And not everybody chooses to be judged, so my chances of getting a ribbon are much greater. This year, I believe we had only four or five cars that wanted to be judged. We gave four winners ribbons out: first place, two that were just called “place”, and fan favorite. I got one of the “place” ribbons. With the odds I was up against, let’s just call it a “participation prize”.

June 13 – Forest Lakes

It’s still early in the hiking season. There is still quite a bit of snow above 10,000′. Most of the places I want to go are closer to 11,000′, so mid-June is still a bit early. For some reason, I’ve been hiking to Forest Lakes in James Peak Wilderness for an early hike. I don’t know what attracts me to this hike. It’s not particularly beautiful, I never make it past the first lake (there are two), and I always encounter snow right after the bridge over Arapaho Creek.

In early June, the creek runs quite high. So high, typically, that the creek overflows its banks such that the hiker must wade through a couple of yards of water to get to either end of the bridge. I’ve taken to calling it “Heartburn Bridge”.

Even though I’ve done this hike four or five times, when snow covers the ground, I still find navigation a bit challenging. Last year, I managed to end up at an unnamed pond rather than the lower lake. Still, it was fun. This time, I made it to the lower lake. Where I managed to step through some ice into water that overflowed my boot.

June 21 – Cruisin’ with the Saints

At the Colorado Concours, organizers of other car shows pass out flyers advertising their own shows. Since the car is looking as good as it has looked in the last decade or more, I reckon I should show it off at as many of these things as is convenient for me. This one was free to enter and I had nothing else planned, so what the heck?

I was pleasantly surprised. I didn’t get a car count, but I’d guess it was 60 or 80. Not only was it free, but the organizers also gave all the entrants a goody bag (including water, a couple of snacks, and a $10 gift card for In-N-Out Burger) and fed us lunch.

There was a wide variety of cars there. Each entrant received two ballots – one for voting for the best “classic” car (before 1974) and one ballot for “modern” cars.

Mine was the only Lotus there, and there were only a handful of other English marques. I voted for myself, which may be poor form. At the end of the day, they announced first and second place winners in the two categories, along with the Pastor’s Favorite (the show is put on by the St. Thomas More Catholic Church). I was pleasantly surprised to win second place. They gave me a big trophy and a $50 gift certificate. Nice!

June 22 – Colorado Trail Segment 1

I wrote that up here.

June 25 – Brian Greene

Brian Greene is one of the world’s leading string theorists. He gave a talk at Chautauqua. He didn’t go into string theory at all. His talk covered entropy, evolution, and eternity. At least, as those three things are applied to astrophysics. It was an interesting talk; he was able to relate some fairly complicated concepts in a way that the average person can understand.

Colorado Trail Segment 1

About 8 years ago, I somehow formed the delusion that I could through-hike the Colorado Trail. The CT runs from Denver to Durango for 485 miles, including about 89,000 feet uphill. The Colorado Trail Foundation publishes a trail guide, which is updated every year. When I first had the idea to do it, I had never even backpacked. I put a fair amount of study into it, looking into what equipment I’d need, how to save weight, what sorts of food to carry, how to arrange resupply.

Then I took my first backpacking trip, just one night. I had a borrowed tent, a borrowed backpack that was a bit too small, and poorly adjusted as well. It was my first just-add-boiling-water backpacker meal. The first time sleeping on the ground in half a lifetime.

That pretty much ended any thought of embarking on a 485-mile hike. Still, I occasionally thumb through the guidebook.

How to eat an elephant

Okay. So I’m not fit enough physically (or mentally, for that matter) to take a five or six-week hike. Why can’t I do it segment by segment? How do you eat an elephant? One bite at a time. It may take me a while, many years perhaps, to do all 28 segments. So what am I waiting for? I can’t finish what I don’t start.

Segment 1: Waterton Canyon Trailhead to South Platte River Trailhead

Sunday, June 22

I had Genae drop me off at Waterton Canyon in the morning, and asked Michael to collect me at the other end at 4 pm. I was a bit unsure about the schedule. I didn’t want him to have to wait for me, but I didn’t want to find myself with a couple of hours to kill at the end. As it turned out, I made it to the Platte an hour before pickup, so I had time to relax with my feet in the river.

The guidebook says it’s 16.8 miles from start to finish, but Caltopo maps shows it as 15.7. That’s quite a difference. I don’t hike with a GPS and my phone thinks I only walked 5.7 miles, so I can’t confirm the distance.

It was nice and cool in the morning. My typical hike starts at a higher elevation than I’ll reach on this hike, so I didn’t expect to get much relief from the expected 90+ degrees forecast for Denver.

The first six and a half miles or so is along a road that belongs to Denver Water. It leads to the Strontia Springs Dam. The road surface is very nice, not that it matters. Although there’s no vehicular traffic, there is a steady stream of folks walking, running, hiking, fishing, and riding bikes. There are rest areas all through the canyon, and many signs telling folks how to treat the wildlife, particularly the bighorn sheep.

The trail, then, really doesn’t start until after the dam where the road ends. The next mile and a quarter or so is what the guidebook calls the first “challenging climb.” The gain is about 650′, so about 500′ per mile. I’ve never hiked where mountain bikes are allowed before now. This section of trail looks ideal for biking. The trail surface is free of rocks and roots. At the top of this first climb is Lenny’s Rest. I suspect many of the bikers turn around here. I encountered more bikers on that mile and a quarter of trail than I did the rest of the hike.

From here the trail descends to Bear Creek, which is roughly the midpoint of the hike. I was there by 10:30, which was a bit early for lunch. But I figured it would be the best place for my picnic, as I expected to find no views and this is the only stream we would cross. Also on the plus side, my beer was still cold. So lunchtime it was. Bear Creek here is not much more than a trickle. While I was there, I met two pairs of hikers on the first day of their adventures.

I talked to several people. I found it irresistible to ask the obvious question: Are you through-hiking?

One guy, retired, living in Waco, was doing segments. His method makes for the simplest logistical situation possible: he picks a trailhead and does an out-and-back hike. No heavy backpack, no arranging rides, no day after day after day of eating gruel out of a bag. On the other hand, he hikes it twice: once in each direction. He has already done all of segments 3 and 4, did half of 1 today, and will do 2 tomorrow.

Another guy, this one from St. Louis, was making his second attempt. His first try, two years ago, ended when he suffered a stress fracture of a leg near Copper Mountain. He planned on completing the hike in four weeks.

One of the couples I met at Bear Creek started planning for this trip six months ago. It was the first time for both of them, but she had done the Appalachian Trail a while back. She’s a teacher. She had to quit her job to do the AT – it took her four months – but they’ll finish the CT in five weeks, and no such drastic measures are necessary.

Approaching the other end, I ran into a guy from Englewood. He hikes this trail regularly, but he only does the five miles from the South Platte River trailhead. It’s a pleasant forest hike, but there are few views and no water. It’s easy access from the southern suburbs, I guess, but an unexceptional piece of trail.

The cool of morning was but a memory. The last two hours were a bit on the toasty side. The forest is somewhat sparse, not providing much shade. The trail primarily traversed steepish slopes, so there weren’t many places to take a pause without standing on the trail. And once we got to the top we were greeted by not so much a cool breeze as a warm wind. Not exactly refreshing.

As I said earlier, I made it to the Platte an hour before Michael was scheduled to arrive. It was quite pleasant by the river. Several people were there with inner tubes. I should just say “flotation devices,” but that’s a bit vague.

For through-hikers, this is the only water source for another ten miles or so. I drank the last of my two liters while my feet were in the river. By now, my last 200ml of water was pretty warm. I held it in the river for a few minutes, hoping to cool it off, but I wasn’t that patient. I filled one of my bottles here and had a few sips, but this is not my usual sort of refill spot. There were quite a few people in the water. Just downstream of me, on the opposite bank, was a family with a girl in diapers. Michael had water in the car, so I didn’t need to drink the (perfectly safe) Platte water.

My original plan was to take a side trip to a place to overlook Strontia Springs Reservoir. The spur trail is not far after the end of the nice road. I didn’t expect the spur trail to have a sign, but I did expect to see it. I was either oblivious or the trail is somewhat hidden. That would have added an extra mile to the hike, but I’d still have made my rendezvous in time.

This is not the sort of trail I’d normally hike, and only did it because it’s part of the CT. It’s a pleasant forest hike that I’d have enjoyed more had the weather been a few degrees cooler. I probably should have done it a month ago. It is convenient for folks who don’t want to drive far from Denver and if I was a bike rider, I’d enjoy the road portion through Waterton Canyon.

Spring Refresh

After a long hiatus, I finally have something to say.

Regular readers will recall that my spring trip last year began on a sour note when my car was backed into in the motel parking lot. After much back-and-forth with the insurance company, they cut me a check. Actually, it was two checks. Even though I got photos of the license and insurance cards of the other party, it took AllState nearly seven months to get my deductible back.

They paid “enough” to have my front clam replaced with new. It’s never that simple, though. I understand that replacement clams require a fair amount of work to make them fit properly. I have little doubt that, if I had gone that route, it would have cost more than AllState’s estimate, no doubt requiring additional months for payment. It would have all worked out in the end, no doubt. But I went another way.

I discussed it with Mike G., and he made me a proposal. He had recently purchased an Elise that needed repairs to its front clam. He said that if I bought all the supplies and materials to repair both clams, he’d do all the work. This would save me a considerable amount of money.

He knew, too, that I was having third gear syncro issues (again). He offered to do the transmission swap for me. The plan was to replace the transmission and repair and repaint the clam, have it done by autumn and maybe have a few hundred dollars of the insurance money left over. It’s spring, not autumn, and the table below shows that I blew through the budget. That’s due to the bits Mike and I didn’t talk about: PPF and the yellow stripe. And, frankly, it’s a killer deal. For less than a thousand dollars, my 111,000 mile, 75 track day car looks better than it has in a decade.

I picked up a rebuilt transmission with the Celica sixth gear. It’s a Toyota C64 transmission. Lotus uses a different sixth gear than Toyota used in the Celica. With the Celica sixth gear, I’d get improved fuel economy on the highway. While we were swapping out the transmission, I took the opportunity to upgrade the shifter cables and replace the clutch.

Mike also kindly let me borrow a spare front clam that he had. This allowed me to continue driving the car while he repaired and repainted the clam. So I drove around for a couple of months with an orange front end. It was not pretty, but it beats leaving it parked in the garage.

The car had a paint protection film (PPF). I believe it was applied at the Lotus factory, but I’m not certain. It’s not mentioned on the price sticker. I can’t imagine that, if it was done by the selling dealer, it wouldn’t have shown up as a dealer-installed option, but I’d also expect it to be called out on the list of standard features. In any event, it had PPF. After Mike repaired the clam, I’d have to get PPF applied to it. This sort of led me down a rabbit hole.

One of Michael’s high school friends, Loren, is a car detailer and has applied PPF to all sorts of exotic cars, including Ferraris and Lamborghinis. After chatting with him a couple of times, I decided to redo the PPF for the whole car (not just the front clam) and get the windows tinted. He also recommended a protective film for the windshield. This film isn’t a magic bullet that will prevent all damage – big stones will still cause some damage – but the normal, run-of-the-mill damage we get driving Colorado’s roads in the winter will be prevented. The last of Loren’s jobs was to replace my yellow stripe. It was impossible to match the color and just do the bit of stripe on the clam, so we redid the whole stripe.

In addition to these three big jobs – clam repair, transmission swap, and PPF application – I took the opportunity to make some minor changes. The black body parts – grill pieces and louvers – were looking tired and needed some attention. The car is so low, I often scrape the nose entering or leaving parking lots, so Loren found a product that may protect the fiberglass. The rear-view mirror is too big, so I finally found a smaller replacement. And, finally, even though the car is brightly colored and somewhat loud, I find myself having to use my horn to let people know I’m there. The stock horn isn’t very loud. Rather than replacing it with a louder one, I left the stock one in and added a louder one (Harley-Davidson’s “Loud” horn). I often joked I wanted an air horn from a railroad locomotive. This one isn’t that loud, but it’s loud.

When I brought the car home from Mike’s, we didn’t put it all together right away. It was easier for Loren to apply the PPF without the headlights, turn signals, and trim pieces installed.

The transmission swap was last summer, before my trip to LOG. There I had overheating problems. It was fine on the roads, but after about twenty minutes on the track, I’d sometimes be unable to get it into any gear. After asking around, one of the suggestions was to use a different gear oil. So, while the car was out of commission waiting for the PPF to get done, I replaced the gear oil.

The expected life of PPF is five to ten years. The original PPF was going on twenty. The old film came off pretty easily with steam. I’ve heard horror stories of removing old film, but the car has been garaged its whole life and I think that made a big difference. The film was pretty beat up – scratched, pitted, and discolored – with the worst damage on the sills just in front of the rear wheels.

Applying the PPF, Loren got detailed look at the paint. It was still near perfect. Given what I subjected my poor car to, it says volumes about the value of the PPF. Loren also said Mike did an excellent job, especially considering he did the paint in his garage. The paint isn’t a perfect match, but pretty damn close.

New, the car had PPF on the front clam only covered the front half. I now have it over the entire clam, including the removable panels. This is 8 mil film. On the sills, we went with 10 mil for better protection.

We did a ceramic coating on the PPF. Loren wanted to do a side-by-side comparison of two different products, but that didn’t work out. The film, made by Stek, only accepted their ceramic coating. Loren’s usual brand wouldn’t go on properly.

Before applying the bumper scrape guard, by Sliplo, Loren added another layer of PPF on the bottom of the clam. The Sliplo product is attached with a provided two-sided tape, which comes with an adhesive promoter. This allows it to stick quite nicely to the PPF.

I had to restripe the whole car. It was pretty much impossible for us to match the color. The new yellow is a tad brighter, but you can only tell the difference side-by-side. It, too, came off fairly easily with steam.

Replacing the rear-view mirror gave me a bit of heartburn. It’s quite common for people to break their windshields trying to get the stock mirror off the plinth, which is attached to the windshield. In my case, the whole thing came free. I replaced the windshield last year; no doubt the adhesive was a bit different than stock. The mirror was quite reluctant to come free from the plinth. They had used some sort of adhesive, which seems unnecessary to me. We had to clamp the plinth in the vise and persuade the mirror gently with a mallet. If you couldn’t get the whole assembly off the windshield, it’s no wonder people were breaking their windshields. The smaller mirror blocks much less of my forward vision and is plenty big enough to see out the back window. I didn’t weigh them to compare, but the MicroMirror felt a few ounces heavier.

The whole process took a bit longer than I’d hoped, but I’m quite happy overall. Both Mike G. and Loren did a great job. I still need to figure out the shifting problem, but I have no doubt I’ll get it figured out eventually. The car has over 111,000 miles on it and looks as good as it did when I bought it. And, as a bonus, I expect to get over 40mpg on road trips (I’ve already had one at 39.5).

I’m looking forward to the next hundred thousand miles!

Cost BreakdownAmount
Clam repair/repaint$2,568
PPF1,100
Window Tint150
Lip Protection150
Windshield Film300
Stripe200
Ceramic coat100
Badge110
Transmission3,849
Cables686
Clutch470
Gear Oil (Motul)41
Horn71
Black spray paint7
Gear Oil (Red Line)22
Total Cost$9,824
Insurance Claim$9,043
Out-of-Pocket Cost$781

Naturally, I made videos of Loren working his magic.

LOG 43: Harris Hill Raceway

Harris Hill Raceway (H2R) is a private track in San Marcos, TX, not far from Austin. The track is 1.8 miles long and can be run in either direction. In addition to always being given numbers, race track turns are generally given names as well. Not all of H2R’s turns have names, but turn 4 is named for the patron saint of impossible tasks: Santa Rita. In the drivers’ meeting, they said there’s something like 180′ of elevation change. I like elevation change. Looking at the maps, the lowest part of the track is at 645′ above sea level and the highest point is 703′.

It’s the site for the LOG 43 track day.

Monday, September 30

I didn’t get a car count, but it was about thirty. We ran in two groups. Scott ran the drivers’ meeting. He clearly had some experience participating in GGLC track days, as he said anybody who spun or put four off would get to display a “Bozo” sign for the rest of the day.

We had a short lead/follow session and I was right behind Scott. We did four or five laps. I had decided to exit the track and let the next guy follow Scott when the session ended.

On my out lap for the first session, that is, my first lap not in the lead/follow session, I overcooked it into turn 4, Santa Rita. I went right off. When I reported, the track manager said, “Cold tires?” That’s a poor driver’s excuse. It wouldn’t have mattered what temperature my tires were, I was never going to make it.

I said, “I’m Bozo.”

He said, “I’m not going to put that on your car.”

After the session, I talked to Kevin and Ryan. I pointed over at the hill. “See those birds circling over that turn? My confidence died up there. I went off on my out lap.” I didn’t disclose my error to Scott. Then we had a debriefing session. Scott asked how things went and if there were any incidents. I did not admit it to the group, and Kevin and Ryan kept my sordid secret. At the end of the day, when I said my goodbyes, I finally confessed to Scott that I’m a bozo. “Now you tell me!” he said, laughing.

Our speaker from last night, Sam Smith, was in attendance. I introduced myself and we had a nice conversation. I told him I always tell people I’m the idiot who drives his Lotus across the country for track days but that I learned this weekend that I’m just an idiot who does that. He said driving cross country for track days sounded reasonable to him. We also discussed dream jobs, reprogramming our brains (for example, because I don’t want to hit the curbs on the track, I have difficulty making myself hit the rumble strips), and the modern lack of love for the written word.

We were scheduled to run four sessions, but because we had a leisurely morning, the last ended at five. I wanted to minimize my night driving, and it is four hours to Abilene, so I skipped the last session. Ryan skipped it, too, and was already loading his car into the trailer when I started swapping back to my road wheels. Half an hour of sweaty work later, I was road-ready and headed into the setting sun.

Later, when I was putting together the videos I saw that none of the car’s data was recorded. I have a dongle on the OBD port that sends data to the phone. Over the weekend, I’ve had to reboot the phone several times due to flakey behavior. Evidently, one of these reboots disconnected my device. So it goes.

I have more information about my shifter overheating. It was hot, and the sessions were half an hour long. I never had problems downshifting today. However, when attempting to back into my spot in the paddock, I’d grind trying to get into reverse. A couple of those and I quit using reverse and just pushed the car back.

I didn’t meet KFennel until I was saying my goodbyes. He has the very fast Exige. We ran in the same group and he passed me more than once. When I introduced myself, he asked which car I drove. He didn’t remember seeing me on the track. If he never noticed me, I guess that means I never held him up.

Over the three sessions, I passed exactly one car: Kevin, in his McLaren. He caught me, I pointed him by, then a couple of laps later, he returned the favor. On a short track like this, horsepower is overrated. There were two other cars that I thought I’d pass, but each time I got close, they left the track. (Correlation is not causation.)

If I had run the final session, I think I could have improved my time by as much as 2 seconds. My best time improved by 2 seconds from session 1 to session 2, and 3 more seconds from session 2 to session 3. Watching the video, I see many places I can improve.

It’s a fun little track. It’s good for my car. It’s on the short side, but because it can be run in either direction, it’s like two tracks in one. If I lived in the area, I’d enjoy multiple visits.

LOG 43: Circuit of the Americas

Sunday, September 29

I had to get up early. The drivers meeting was at seven and the track is forty-five minutes from the hotel. It was dark when I pulled into the paddock. It looked nothing like it did last time. They’re preparing for the Formula 1 race. It’s one of the bigger paddocks I’ve been in, and it was jam-packed. Ryan brought my track wheels, so I needed to find him. I got lucky and found him almost immediately, and was doubly lucky that there was room for me.

We were parked east of the east end of the garages. The rest of the LOG people were clear at the other end, just about as long of a walk as is possible in the paddock. I made that walk several times. It was a lot of walking, but it did mean I saw just about every car that was there.

For F1, they’re building a bunch of two-story buildings behind the garages. They do this every year: put up all these buildings before the race and take them all down afterward. I wonder where they put all the materials between races. We were told to keep clear of the work areas. If anybody walked through without a hard hat, work would stop. I wondered if a helmet was a substitute for a hard hat, but didn’t really want to find out.

It’s important to have goals. Because Ryan brought my track wheels, I didn’t have to run on the hard street tires. I ran a 2:51 last time and with the stickier tires, I expected to knock ten seconds off that time. An ambitious goal, but one’s reach should exceed one’s grasp.

Chin always starts the day with a yellow-flag session. Get familiarized with the track but no passing. I ran with the street tires. Even at relatively low speeds, they were singing a little protest. I was glad I didn’t have to run with these tires.

But even with the much better tires, I never came close to ten seconds faster. In fact, I was never better than two seconds slower. It was hot and windy. They’ve repaved much of the track since my last visit. I don’t know how much either of those affected me, but I pushed pretty hard. There’s no way I’d have done a 3:00 on the hard tires.

I was the slowest Lotus in my group. I may have one too many words in that sentence. I only passed two or three cars all day. As at Barber back in March, I was trying to figure out which cars I had to get off the throttle for when I waved them by. I kept my foot in it most of the time. The corner workers wave a blue flag at you if you’re holding somebody up; I only saw a blue flag once, so I was doing a good job of getting out of peoples’ way.

In the first session, the car behind me on the grid was an old Subaru Forester station wagon. We line up in two rows and they alternate, so he entered the track two cars behind me. Not only did he pass me, he lapped me. Kevin was parked near him in the paddock. He said he didn’t outrun him by much on the straights with his McLaren, and he was topping 160. That Subaru was fast, a race car, running on slicks. But, damn, it’s a bit of an ego crusher getting lapped by a Forester.

We had very little paddock space. Last time I was here, the paddock was a vast open space. Everybody had room to spread out, and acres of it were pretty much empty. Today, there wasn’t any open space. Also last year, the cafe was open. It was nice to have an air-conditioned space to eat lunch. Today the cafe was closed; we had a food truck burger at a table under a canopy.

I’m having an issue with the shifter. When the car gets hot, I have trouble selecting a gear. This first happened to me last month at Ticket to Ride. I was on the track for an hour. I’d get a passenger, take an out lap, a hot lap, and an in lap, then get a new passenger. I was stopped, idling, for a few minutes at each passenger change. After about half an hour, I started having difficulty shifting. I’d be braking into turn 4, trying to shift from fifth to fourth. I can’t get second or third, but I can get back to fifth. After a few seconds, I could get the lower gear. It only affected downshifts; I could run up through the gears without a problem. It has never happened on the street.

I don’t know what to do about it, but I reckoned I wouldn’t have a problem for regular track sessions. It was a hot day but sessions never last more than thirty minutes, and I wouldn’t be idling without air flowing over the car. My first session was over forty minutes and it didn’t happen, so I thought I’d be in the clear. But the day got warmer and the car didn’t cool off so much between sessions. and it happened a couple of times in the afternoon.

The last session of the day is “happy hour”, where all groups run. At Barber this spring, I ran a few laps each happy hour. They were the most crowded sessions of the event. Today, I skipped happy hour thinking it would be crowded. Also, there wasn’t much of a break between my last session and happy hour, so the car didn’t get as much time to cool down. As it turned out, I’d probably have been okay to run: the session got black flagged and cut short.

Some reflections:

  • I’m surprised at how poorly I remembered the track.
  • I would be faster here with a top on. My head gets moved around quite a bit by the wind.
  • My lap timer recorded 33 laps. I ran another 4 laps in the yellow flag session.

I know I can improve my lap time by quite a lot. I need to use the rumble strips in the turns, but I have to overcome my reluctance to hit the curbs. The rumble strips aren’t curbs, but I struggle with my programming. At least once a session, hitting a rumble strip moved my rearview mirror and I had to readjust it to see anything. And I haven’t figured out the esses yet. I start in fourth gear, but not on the high cam, then it slows down. I’m still working on where to downshift. At most tracks, I’m almost always on the high cam when I’m in fourth. Here, there are two places where I’m in fourth but not on cam. And I know I can brake later into turn 12.

I enjoyed it, but I’m not likely to return. (Yeah, I’ve said that before.) It’s a fun track. The facilities are top-notch. There’s an appeal to driving on an F1 track. I’d love another crack at setting a faster lap time: I know I can still improve quite a bit. But the track is not well suited to my car. These are the most expensive laps I’ve ever run, about $26 a lap just for the event fee. It’s not just a high cost in dollars – I have to drive across West Texas to get here.

LOG 43

Lotus Ltd. is the national Lotus owners club. Each year, a local chapter hosts the Lotus Owners Gathering, or LOG. LOGs often include autocross or track days. There is a Concours d’Elegance, technical sessions, organized scenic drives in the area, and dinners with notable and interesting guest speakers. LOG 43 was held in Austin, TX.

We made a left turn off the main road and went up a narrow lane. This was the end of one map segment and the start of another. My phone, mounted at arm’s length, displayed a dialog box: end trip or continue? I can’t take my eyes off the road, and working from memory as much as sight, stabbed at what I thought was “Continue”. After a few seconds, the phone went dark. Dang.

I was second to last in the train. I hadn’t seen the front of the line in quite some time. The M100 Elan was behind me, and I was following two Esprits, one red, one black. The M100 had been tail-end Charlie all day, not always able to comfortably keep up with the crowd. The two Esprits are generally more interested in viewing the scenery than ripping through it. Still, they accelerated up and over a small hill. I lagged a bit, hoping to see the Elan make the turn. But I had to either keep up, or find a place to stop and reset navigation. So I caught the Esprits.

This is the second day of our drive, and yesterday we drove 550 miles. It was warm, and I have no A/C. I’d really like to relax. I never got the route book. On the first morning, I got the route for the phone, but I didn’t have time to preview it. I have been over many of the roads we’d be taking, but not all. I didn’t know we were taking a “spirited” detour. I would have skipped it and just gone to the hotel.

I followed the Esprits for quite a while. The road was narrow, bumpy, twisty, and had many driveways for the large properties. The road dropped precipitously for stream crossings, then rose abruptly, then repeated in the next little valley. These crossings are designed to allow water to flow over them in high water conditions. They’re concrete culverts, crenellated, and not high above the creekbeds. Crossing these carrying any speed compresses the suspension, and the surface changes from rough road to smoother concrete. You have to be careful.

I wasn’t comfortable running fast on this road and I was surprised the Esprits both kept it up. We weren’t going super fast – we caught a pickup truck, but he was moving pretty quickly himself. About when I decided to pull over and plot navigation directly to the hotel, we came to a T-intersection. The red Esprit went left, black went right, then pulled over. I followed black, who waved me by. Instead, I parked behind them and worked the phone.

When I looked up, black was gone. I caught up a couple of minutes later. We ran at a sensible speed for some minutes and came to another T-intersection. We parted ways there, them to the left, me to the right. I laughed when I saw them right behind me a couple of miles from the hotel.

We learned later that there were two incidents that we missed. One was our friend the red Esprit. Crossing one of these streams, they hit one of the crenellations and bent a wheel. The other was more serious, I am told. At the same place, a yellow Evora met with disaster. No injuries, but scuttlebutt suggests the car was totalled.

I’ve never organized a club drive, at least not for more than three cars. I have participated in dozens of club drives – one day drives, weekend drives. We’ve had our share of mechanical issues but never any accidents. I’d be mortified if anything like this happened on a drive I led. I think that back road was a poor route choice, given how long everybody had been driving.

I was at the back of the pack, going a bit faster than I wanted to go. I enjoy the back roads. I drive them all the time. I enjoy the scenery, I drive down the main streets of dozens of small towns. I see the sights. I’m fine going 5-7 mph over the posted limit. I don’t want to be that guy in the sports car. I like driving my car fast, but I know what “fast” is and I know I can’t do it on the highway.

They were washing cars in the hotel garage. I got in line. A couple of other LoCos were there too. I “brag” all the time that my car is always the dirtiest in the group, so I caught a little grief for getting it washed. Later, I went up to the restaurant on the top floor for drinks, hors d’oeuvres, and conversation. I generally try to meet folks who haven’t heard all my stories, but I was with other LoCos. This is when I heard about the day’s unfortunate incidents.

Saturday morning was the Concours d’Elegance and group photo. These are always an exercise in cat herding to some degree. Organizing the movements of over a hundred vehicles is never simple, but this one involved a 32 mile drive from the hotel to a park on the banks of the Colorado River in Marble Falls. There was some attempt at getting photographs from a Tesla mounted with robots and using a drone to shoot us crossing over a bridge. We were given lots of instructions about hand signals from the Tesla, but I’m guessing only the first few cars in the train were involved in that.

When we got to the park, they sorted us by model. I got a lot of questions about the damage to the clam. For quite a while, until some stragglers arrived, I was the only BRG Elise there. There are always other green Elises. In the end, there were three: two BRG and one metallic. They guy I was parked next to, David, has 178,000 miles on his. His was pristine compared to mine. There were several cars there with stickers for as many tracks as I’ve been to. Even without the giant tape-covered hole in my front clam, my car has the most “patina”. It is very much the beater of the show.

  • Two rows of sports cars
  • A row of sports cars
  • A man and a woman looking at a race car
  • Classic sports cars

Afterwards, Kevin and I had lunch with a couple of the other guys at the River City Grill, a short walk from the park. While eating I watched the occasional jet-skier stooging around on the river. It was a warm day, and I was happy drinking an iced tea in the air conditioning.

Back at the hotel, I dealt with a couple of errors and omissions. Every trip, I play a game of “what did I forget?” This time it was my tech sheets for the track days. Michael scanned and emailed them to me. I got them printed out, then met Kevin upstairs for drinks.

For dinner, I had the $63 chicken. Tonight’s speaker was automotive journalist Sam Smith. He’s been writing about cars for twenty years, was executive editor at Road & Track for a while. He’s driven just about every interesting car over that time, has done some racing, some television, and so on. It’s not surprising that he owned a Lotus for a while, an Elan. His talk was pretty well-suited to the audience. Preaching to the choir, you might say.

Sunday was a day running laps at Circuit of the Americas. This was put on by Chin Track Days and was not the official LOG 43 track day. A number of us couldn’t resist the pull of driving on a Formula One track.

Sunday night’s dinner was pork. Both dinners included cheesecake for dessert. It’s strictly off the diet, but I enjoyed both of them anyway. Sunday’s speaker was Russell Carr, head of design for Lotus for the last decade or so. After he gave his talk, he took questions from the audience. He worked on the Emira, Evija, Eletre, and Emeya. I’d never heard of the last one. The Emira is out of my price range, the Evija is out of nearly everyone’s price range, and the Eletre is an SUV and so does not interest me. The Emeya is a 4-door. There are many design elements common across the line, and he went through the design decisions behind them. I found it quite interesting.

On Monday, we went to Harris Hill Raceway for the LOG 43 track day.

For the trip back home, I was concerned about time, so I let the phone pick my route. I knew I wouldn’t be spending a ton of time on Interstates, so didn’t select the “no highways” option. I needed to get as far down the road as possible to make Tuesday a reasonable day, so I knew I’d be driving at night, violating another of my rules. On top of that, I’m running with only one headlight now, so I wanted to be as close as possible to my overnight destination. Last time I drove home from Austin, I stayed in Snyder. This time I opted for Abilene, about an hour closer to Austin. Still, if I stayed for my last track session at 4:30, I’d be driving until after 10. So I did what I seldom do: skipped some track time.

I ended up driving in the dark for an hour and a quarter. In that time, my windshield collected more bugs than the entire drive to Austin. I don’t know why so many bugs, but by the time I got to the hotel, vision was a real problem.

There are a few trees around the entrance to the hotel. I don’t know anything about birds. Birds in my yard get quiet after dark, except for owls, which aren’t in my yard very often. The birds in these trees weren’t owls, and they weren’t quiet. I wasn’t getting the full Alfred Hitchcock The Birds vibe, but I thought it was strange. I asked the desk clerk what kind of birds they are. She didn’t know. When I park, I prefer end spots. I nearly made the big mistake of parking in the end spot under one of the trees. Somebody parked their pickup truck there. I don’t know how clean it was when they parked it, but it was covered with birdshit in the morning.

Much of the drive home was on four-lane divided highways, some Interstate, some US routes. I found the Interstate parts fairly miserable. Way too much traffic. On these four-lane stretches, I kept coming across what I call “left-laniacs”, people who can’t seem to see the signs that say, “Keep right except to pass” or the Texas version, “Left lane for passing only”. They cruise for mile after mile in the left lane. Half a dozen times, I’d slowly reel one of these in only to have them switch to the right lane just as I catch them, making me change lanes to go around them. They’ve been in the left lane all day, why move out just when I catch up to them?

Texas isn’t my favorite state to drive through. Parts of west Texas make Kansas and Nebraska downright scenic in comparison.

When I got to Dumas, I had the choice of going straight north on US 287 (through Oklahoma and eastern Colorado) or heading west on US 87 (into New Mexico and up I-25). I prefer the latter, even though it’s more Interstate. But it would have taken me about half an hour longer, and I was past ready to get home. US 287 gets quite a bit of truck traffic. More truck traffic, I think, than any non-Interstate highway I’ve been on. Luckily, the road is fundamentally straight and flat and has a fair number of passing lanes, so it’s easy to pass.

Before I left home on this trip, I was telling people that I expected to get as much as 42 miles per gallon at some point. The drive down wasn’t exactly an economy run. On the way back, I set my pace to be about 5 mph over the limit, and speed limits in Texas are higher, so my revs were up a bit. The closest I got was 39.7 mpg. I still think 42 mpg is possible.

Over the six days of this trip, I drove 2,080 miles on streets, roads, and highways and 234 on the track for a grand total of 2,314 miles.

Storm Lake

In Indian Peaks Wilderness, in the high valley above Jasper Lake, there is a series of snow-fed lakes and ponds. The highest one, at 11,946′ is Upper Storm Lake. Below that are a few small, unnamed ponds. The lowest body of water in this valley is Storm Lake, 11,426′. I’ve been looking at the map of this area for more than a year. My inner voice tells me I should try to visit Upper Storm Lake. I sometimes have to tell my inner voice to be quiet. My heart, lungs, and legs know better. But there isn’t any reason I can’t get to Storm Lake.

So I asked Chad if he’d like to join me. He may be regretting that he said, “Yes!”

The weather forecast was not favorable. An upslope storm was approaching and Denver was expected to be rainy and cold. The forecasters weren’t sure whether the weather would get bad by mid-morning or mid-afternoon. The National Weather Service said this for Jasper Lake:

Snow showers likely, mainly after 3pm. Some thunder is also possible. Increasing clouds, with a high near 44. Breezy, with an east southeast wind 9 to 14 mph increasing to 17 to 22 mph in the afternoon. Winds could gust as high as 33 mph. Chance of precipitation is 60%. Little or no snow accumulation expected.

Saturday, September 21

Jasper Lake is reached from the Hessie trailhead. Being a weekend, even with the rather threatening forecast, all the parking was taken and we had to use the shuttle bus from Nederland High School.

It was a beautiful autumn morning, calm with cloudless skies. Not as chilly as I expected. When we got back to the car at the end of the day, we agreed that we couldn’t have asked for better weather. Clouds were widely scattered and thin, until nearly two o’clock. There was only a slight breeze at Storm Lake, which is as good as it gets at treeline beneath the Divide. On the drive out we had only a few sprinkles until we got closer to Denver.

It took us two and a half hours to reach Jasper Lake. The trail isn’t my favorite. Jasper Lake is a reservoir, and the trail mostly follows the road they made when they built the dam.

There’s no official trail above Jasper, but I was expecting to be able to follow a social trail or a game trail. There are stretches where a trail is obvious, but much of the time it’s subtle. That said, the navigation is simple: stay on the south side of the stream. There are a couple of small willow patches to negotiate near the top, but nothing bad.

It’s a bit steep, but the views are worth the effort. The stream is waterfall followed by cascade followed by waterfall. I’d like to come back in July when the stream is running high. I’m sure it’s spectacular.

Storm Lake is nice. The shore has a mixture of boulders, willow, and krummholz. I made a minor exploration of the outlet area. The stream looks much smaller here than on the falls below. The outlet area is rocky rather than marshy. So I was surprised to see that the lake has two outlets. The smaller one joins the main one a couple of hundred feet away.

On our way back down, we stopped on the banks of Jasper Lake for a short break. I took off my hoodie and stowed the GoPro in the pack. At least, that was the plan. When I got home, the camera wasn’t in the pack. It wasn’t in the car, either. I’d have sworn I put the camera in the pack and Chad says he remembers me rearranging it. So, I donated a camera. I hope somebody finds it and can make use of it. I’m bummed.

So, needless to say, there’s no video for this hike.

I thought Chad was doing okay. We paused now and then to take in a view, or sip water, or have a quick chat with other hikers. But, as is my usual practice, we didn’t sit down for a break. It wasn’t until after our break at Jasper on the way down that I realized how much he was struggling. We took another break a bit later, after which he took the lead on the trail. I finally understood how much I’d been pushing him. At one point he made a joke about calling the rescue team. At least I think he was joking. We took his car, and when we got off the trail he asked me to drive. I killed Chad. Sorry, man. At least we didn’t get snowed on.

Upper Storm Lake is about a mile past Storm Lake, and another five hundred feet up. It’s beyond my day-hike range, but there is plenty of camping at Jasper Lake and I wouldn’t mind returning to the area to have a go at getting there.

Silver Dollar Lake and Murray Reservoir

The valley between Mount Wilcox on the north and Square Top Mountain on the south contains three named lakes. The head of the valley abuts Argentine Peak which sits on the Continental Divide. The lakes, Naylor Lake, Silver Dollar Lake, and Murray Lake, are reached from the Silver Dollar Lake trailhead at the end of Naylor Lake Road, just below the summit of Guanella Pass. The dirt road is three-quarters of a mile long, steep and narrow. I would recommend a high-clearance vehicle, but a Toyota Camry pulled into the parking lot a few minutes after I got there.

The trail visits Silver Dollar Lake and Murray Lake. Naylor is bypassed but is visible from much of the trail. The surrounding mountains are all above 13,500′. All but the first half mile of trail is above treeline, with Murray Lake sitting at 12,144′.

I’m curious about Murray Lake. CalTopo maps shows it as Murry Reservoir. Judging from the satellite image, the lake has a dam. There is no bathtub ring, so it must have been full at the time the image was taken.

Monday, September 16

I arrived at the trailhead parking lot a few minutes before 9. I was the fourth vehicle. It took me an hour to get to Silver Dollar Lake and another fifteen minutes to Murray. It’s a high-altitude hike, but the trail isn’t very steep. I spent quite a while at Murray. I sat on the western bank, farthest from the trail.

The lake is snow-fed. The snow was all gone weeks ago, but a few small trickles still come from willow patches hanging on rock outcroppings above my picnic spot.

I was surprised by how much willow filled the valley. Willow likes to have a lot of water. The trail cuts through long sections of it. In a few places, the trail is braided and wide and exposes little areas of the ground the willow is growing in. It’s a little like walking on a mattress – spongy. It’s about as dry as it gets right now, and the willow is brownish-yellow with just a tinge of dark green. The valley is wide and gently sloped and contains an abundance of willow. Hundreds of acres of it. I don’t think I’ve ever seen so much willow.

When I arrived at Murray, a pair of hikers had nearly caught up to me. They kept following me around the lake and I was beginning to wonder if they were going to sit right next to me. No, they were circumnavigating the lake. I sat at the base of a large outcropping. To hike around the lake, you have to go to the top of this outcropping, a fairly steep climb of about a hundred and fifty feet. If I ever return here, I think I’ll do it.

This late in the season, wildflowers are, for the most part, memories. One of my favorites, though, queen’s crown, is still shining. Most of the other flowers have lost their petals and the leaves are turning brown. Queen’s crown, though, is a deep red. The pink petals have gone deep red. The green leaves and stalk the same.

After my early lunch, I spent a few minutes inspecting the dam. Water is flowing out of a pipe hidden in the rip-rap on the earthen berm. I could hear the source, but not see it. There are no visible controls, no valve to adjust the flow. The lake looks to be at its maximum level, which I’m guessing is about eight feet above its natural level.

It’s not a functional reservoir and it hasn’t been remediated. It is a small earthen dam with a face of rip-rap. The berm has vertical steel plates in it, which stick up a few inches above the earth, heavily rusted. There is other rusted debris atop the dam as well. Standing on the north and looking south, it’s obvious where they got the materials to build the dam.

When I got back down to Silver Dollar Lake, I saw the same sort of “quarry”, but a bit smaller than the one at Murray. Silver Dollar Lake doesn’t look to my eye to be dammed, but somebody dug out a few cubic yards of material and it had to go somewhere.

I confess that I felt discombobulated on the hike up to Murray. Somehow I was under the impression the hike was four miles each way. It’s four miles round trip. I didn’t bring a map because the navigation is fairly obvious. But I had the scale entirely wrong. Up ahead I could see the shelf that holds Murray. I thought that’s where Silver Dollar was and that I’d be going up the ridge to the right. When I got to Silver Dollar I finally realized my error.

It was a fun little hike. Not too strenuous. Because it’s relatively short and easy, it’s also relatively crowded. Dogs are allowed on leashes, but only a minority of dogs were leashed.