Navigational Error

Posted on August 26, 2013 by dhill

I’m still in catch-up mode. I used my business trip last week as the excuse for the late report on my Haynach Lake hike. No such excuse this week. It was just a busy week.

August 17, 2013

I won’t exaggerate and say I’ve been over Trail Ridge Road hundreds of times – it’s only in the dozens. And I don’t always stop along the way to enjoy the view. But I have spent a fair amount of time at the Rock Cut looking across the valley at Gorge Lakes, thinking how marvelous it would be to visit them. It has only been the last few years that I’ve even considered actually trying to hike there.

Lisa Foster gives us four possible routes. One way would be to park at the Rock Cut, make the steep descent to the Big Thompson river, find a potentially precarious crossing on a downed tree, then make the climb up the other side. Her description of this route is such that I’m unlikely ever to make the attempt. Another option is up Forest Canyon, which also sounds much too difficult for me. The other two are variations on a theme involving the trail to the summit of Mount Ida, one of which involves a steep descent. I’m not a fan of steep descents.

So I decided to attempt to reach Arrowhead Lake by going up the Mount Ida trail then contouring along the ridge a few hundred feet below ‘Jagor Point’ to ‘Lake Amour’, Love Lake, and up to my destination. I have not been on the Mount Ida trail before. I felt there was a fairly decent chance of spotting some bighorn sheep (which I haven’t seen since childhood) and was looking forward to it since deciding on this hike shortly after returning from Haynach Lake.

The trail starts at Milner Pass, so the most direct route is a drive over Trail Ridge east to west. So far this summer I’ve only driven the road west to east after my west side hikes, always in late afternoon weekend traffic. That means I’ve crawled along in something like a tundra version of rush hour – a nice view, but a frustrating drive in a sports car.

On a Saturday morning before eight it’s another story. I had an almost unimpeded drive; from below Rainbow Curve on the east side to Milner Pass on the west side I only encountered one other car going my direction and was able to pass him as soon as I caught him. Not that I wanted to go particularly fast, but it was a comfortable speed not grossly illegal.

I hit the parking lot in plenty of time to get geared up and on the trail by eight. I again scored the end spot closest to the trail and chatted with another hiker while I changed shoes and strapped on the pack, camera, and tripod. It was then I realized I left my map on the kitchen counter. It’s not the first time I’ve managed to do this, so I wasn’t particularly bothered. It was yet another beautiful morning in the park and I felt I’d studied the map well enough to do without.

Not far up the trail I found this notice:

ATTENTION!!!

MOUNT IDA HIKERS

The hike from here to the summit of Mount Ida is 3.5 miles of exposed tundra without a maintained trail and few reference points. You will need to pay strict attention to weather and terrain. A map and compass along with a strong sense of direction are paramount to a safe return.

Several hikers have been lost in an attempt to return from Mount Ida to their starting point. Don’t be one of them.

I am not deterred. I really did intend to have a map, but I never carry a compass. And I feel I have a strong sense of direction, in spite of making silly mistakes like wandering off in the wrong direction along Grand Ditch on my way to Lake of the Clouds. Ahem.

Not long after this sign I ran into a couple guys loaded down with camping and fishing gear. They were also on their way to Arrowhead Lake. We chatted a bit before I continued on. They had gone less than a mile before taking a break; I would clearly make much better time than them.

Before long I was above treeline and able to take in the view of the Never Summer range and the verdant valley immediately below me. Contrary to the warning sign, the trail looked quite well maintained and easy to follow. In addition, there were several obvious game trails criss-crossing the slope below me. Although saw a deer very near the trailhead, no big game was in evidence. I did see a mother marmot with her adolescent child scurry off the trail in front of me, too quick to get a picture.

Not far above treeline there’s a fork in the trail. I paused here to slather on some SPF and consider my route. Even had I had my map, it wouldn’t have been much help. Though the trail on the ground appears well maintained, it appears not at all on my map. But I must bear to the right, for that leads to the higher ground. So I continue on my way.

The trail isn’t particularly steep, but I paused many times to catch my breath and study the nice views. I wondered how long before I’d see the fishermen on the trail below me. Instead of them, I saw a lone hiker in a white shirt. Every few minutes I’d pause and notice that although this hiker seemed to be standing still, he was closer each time. About the fourth or fifth pause I finally caught him not standing still. He was running.

It was about this time I realized I could use the speedometer app on my phone to determine my elevation. I was at about 11,800′ when he caught me and we chatted. I asked if he’d done this hike before. He hadn’t. He also confessed that he didn’t have a map either and was a bit disconcerted by the warning sign from earlier. He had never been in the park before and was visiting from D.C. I congratulated him on his ability to run up this trail, the better part of twelve thousand feet above sea level.

He continued up the trail ahead of me and there was still no sign of the fishermen. According to my phone, I was now a bit above 12,000′. I looked to the northeast and decided it was time to leave the trail and head toward ‘Jagor Point’, which I decided was ‘right over there’.

I am now forced to decide how to continue this tale. The title of this entry is a bit of foreshadowing. Shall I keep my readers with me in my ignorance of my actual location, or cut to the chase and reveal my error now? Of course, even asking the question here provides its own answer.

Had I had my map, I’d have known I really needed to gain another few hundred feet of elevation before leaving the trail. In fact, I was one valley short of Gorge Lakes. When I reached what I thought was the saddle between ‘Jagor Point’ and Mount Ida, I was perhaps a mile short of there.

Recall that my plan was to contour around this ridge. From my map study, I decided the descent from the saddle was probably too steep for my comfort. But standing where I was I decided it really wasn’t that steep after all. I saw several lakes below me and headed more or less directly toward them, heading to the body of water at the top of the valley.

It was an easy descent, not too much loose talus. I quickly made it to the grassy meadows below. There I saw a few places where the grass was matted down where four or five elk or other large animals had lain down. A bit farther along, I saw an elk lying in a meadow and got the camera ready for a picture. Taking off the lens cap, I inadvertently clicked it against the barrel of the lens. The elk snapped his head in my direction and upon seeing me, he got up and cantered off to the trees toward my right. Dang.

By now it should have been obvious to me I wasn’t where I intended to be. I expected to make about a thousand foot descent from the ridge to the gorge. I probably only went half that distance. The lakes I was going to were substantial, all easily visible from Trail Ridge Road. The ponds I was heading to were much smaller. But I was blissfully unaware. It was a pleasant day and I was in beautiful surroundings. And I have a strong sense of direction.

I had veered left when the elk ran to the right. A few minutes later, the elk dashed from right to left not far in front of me, followed by another one I hadn’t seen a few moments ago. I snapped a couple photos as they ran by, then continued to the pond in front of me. After a few minutes at this pond I headed down the valley to visit the other “lakes” I had spied from above. The walking was easy. There were a few marshy spots but the few clusters of willow were easily avoided.

I hiked from one lake to another, thinking that if I managed to stay high enough along the base of the ridge I’d soon come to Arrowhead Lake. I made it to the end of the ridge without coming to anything remotely like Arrowhead Lake and still hadn’t realized I wasn’t in the right place.

On many of these off-trail hikes I’ve come across piles of bones, bleached white. Some ribs or vertebrae, perhaps a pelvis. Always more than a single bone, always less than a full skeleton. Sometimes I can’t decide what sort of animal it was, and it’s never clear to me how long these bones have been there. This time I found a single leg bone, with skin still attached. Where’s the rest of the beast? Did some carnivore or scavenger make off with just this one?

By noon I had been through this valley without finding a pleasant shore for my picnic, so I found a nice outcropping of rocks with a view of Trail Ridge Road opposite. It was quite hazy due to forest fires in distant Idaho and the clouds didn’t look very entertaining so I didn’t bother setting up the cameras.

After lunch, I worked my way along the ridge in the direction of the Mount Ida trail and an easy hike back to the car. Here well off the trail I found a bit of a puzzle. What is the purpose of these funnels? They don’t look like rain gauges to me, and they’re not hooked up to anything.

I quickly regained the trail and made a mental note of where the hiker should leave the trail to contour below ‘Jagor Point’. Ha ha. I made quick time back to tree line where I ran into a group of hikers led by a ranger. A bit farther down the trail I heard a commotion ahead of me and spotted an elk trotting down the trail. I followed him, snapping pictures. He caught up to a friend where the trail switches back. The two elk continued south, I followed the trail north.

I was back to the trailhead by 1:20, the earliest return to the car all summer. I figured I’d be home pretty early, easily by 4:00. After all, it only took me two hours to make the trip in the morning. It couldn’t take an extra forty minutes due to traffic, could it? Silly question. Of course it could. About a half mile before reaching the Rock Cut I found myself in an impromptu parking lot. This was clearly more than a half dozen cars ignoring the signs instructing drivers not to stop on the road, taking pictures of elk in the far distance. I got the camera out and spied flashing lights at the Rock Cut parking lot. Somebody was having a bad afternoon. We were stopped here for more than a half hour.

When I got home, I consulted the map and compared it to my notes. I visited a lake at 11,500′. There is no lake in Gorge Lakes at 11,500. Nor at 11,350′. So I finally accepted that I’d made a major navigational blunder. But no matter. As I always say when I fail to reach my desired destination, “There’s always another day.” I had a very enjoyable walk in the park, saw some wildlife in its natural habitat, got some exercise, and had a picnic above treeline. What’s not good about such a day?

Maybe next time I won’t forget my map.

Haynach Lakes

Posted on August 19, 2013 by dhill

I had a business trip last week, so this report from last week’s hike is a bit delayed. Sometimes I can crank these things out pretty quickly, sometimes it takes forever. I thought this one was particularly interesting, so it has taken a bit longer.

Saturday, August 10, 2013

This hike has is the longest (most miles) I’ve hiked in a day, but in the end it turned out fairly easy. I knocked it off in less than nine hours, including nearly an hour at the lake and a couple short breaks on the way back to the car. I wanted to put boots on the trail by 7:30 and to be at Haynach by noon. And I wanted to see a moose.

As it’s been on my list for a while; I spent quite a bit of time looking at the maps. I broke it down into four parts. From the trailhead to the junction with the Tonahutu trail. Something like 1.8 miles and a 600′ climb. This puts you over the “divide” between Tonahutu Creek and the Kawuneeche Valley, the source of the Colorado river. Then 3.5 miles to Granite Falls, edging around Big Meadows for quite a ways and only gaining about 400′. Section three is Granite Falls to the junction with the Haynach Spur trail: 2 miles and 600′. Finally, the last mile and a half and another 600′ gain. The Foster guide has the total distance 8.7 miles and 2,260′ of elevation gain. It’s long, but not much of a climb.

I didn’t quite put boots on the trail on my target time, but did reach the Green Mountain trailhead parking lot at almost exactly 7:30. There were a handful of cars in the parking lot, all covered with dew. I backed into the end spot closest to the trail. It’s a two hour drive from home, up I-70 then over Berthoud pass. Very little traffic, as usual. Around Fraser there was ground fog but cloudless skies. By Grand Lake it was soup – I never saw the lake even though it’s within yards of the road in many places. But it was clear again by the park entrance and at the trailhead.

Based on the weather forecast, I thought there was a real chance it might be cool enough to wear jeans but I stuck with the shorts. It was pretty chilly; I had turned the heater on in the car in Winter Park. When I got out of the car I was thinking maybe I should have worn jeans after all. But the trail starts off fairly steep and I was warmed up before long. This part of the trail was very wet, both in the morning and afternoon.

After a steep start you reach the first meadow. There are three or four meadows near the trail with short climbs in between. Then the trail descends slightly to Big Meadows and meets the lower Tonahutu trail. At just after eight, all these meadows were misty. Near the trail junction, two people were out in Big Meadows talking loudly enough, I’m guessing, to be heard a mile away. Big Meadows is something like a half mile wide and three miles long, wider at the north end than the south.

Then I met a couple on their way back to the trailhead. They had intended to camp at Haynach Lake but had difficulty with the altitude so they stayed at the Sunset camp site instead. They were from Kissimmee, FL. He said he bought a new tent for the trip, but neglected to open the package before reaching the camp site. No stakes. I asked if they’d seen any wildlife. Just squirrels.

The trail goes north here. At first the trail is adjacent to the meadow, providing a nice view of Big Meadows. Somewhere in here I was hoping to see moose. I stopped and looked whenever there was a nice view but no luck. Soon you pass two derelict log structures; I’m sure that even when they were new they were not much more than basic structure. Next the trail climbs a bit to a junction with the Onahu Creek trail. On the first tree past the sign was stapled a notice.

Trail Condition Warning:

Due to a recent wildfire in the upper Tonahutu drainage various travel hazards exist in the next several miles. Use caution and good judgment when crossing the affected area.

POTENTIAL HAZARDS INCLUDE:

FALLING TREES
SLOPE INSTABILITY AND MUD SLIDES
COLLAPSING TRAIL TREAD
FLOWING DEBRIS ACROSS TRAILS
DIFFICULTY FOLLOWING DESIGNATED TRAILS DUE TO FIRE DAMAGE
DAMAGE TO BRIDGES
POSSIBLE RE-IGNITION OF FIRE

I had forgotten all about the Big Meadows fire. The fire started in early June. By the 20th it was declared 95% contained. This meant they had established secure fire lines around it. They expected that the fire might still occasionally be seen throughout the summer, until a significant weather event put it out. In the mean time, the upper Tonahutu Trail would remain closed. I later heard from a hiker that this was the first weekend the trail was open.

At the end of Big Meadows the trail takes a right turn. The valley narrows and you can finally hear Tonahutu Creek. Here is where the fire damage starts. It’s a lot different than the kind of damage the Fern Lake trail passes through. On that trail, it’s the opposite side of the valley that’s burned. Here, the trail passes right through the most devastated areas. Only a few blades of grass are growing. Everything is black – the still standing tree trunks, ground roots, the ground, the rocks. Some of the rocks got so hot a burned layer has broken off.

Granite Falls was not burned. It is an aptly named falls, tumbling down large slabs of granite. Easy access to both the top and bottom of the falls. Above the falls is another meadow. After that is the largest and most devastated burn area on the hike. Pretty much the entire forest below Tonahutu Meadow campsite. Today, not a blade of grass grows there. All the burn areas still smell strongly of smoke, but it is strongest here. This is probably the last spot to go out, just a week or two ago.

East of Tonahutu Meadows at first looks to be undamaged. From here all the way to the creek that drains Haynach Lake, fire dripped down the mountain like wax down a burning candle. Untouched forest for twenty or thirty yards, then a narrow strip that is burned. Many trees are burned only on one side. A few may even still be alive. There are a lot of downed trees here, blocking or partially blocking the trail. I doubt any livestock could pass.

Finally I arrive at the spur trail to Haynach. It starts very steeply, climbing almost straight up the slope, now out of earshot of any flowing water. This section is the steepest part of the hike. The climb moderates, and the trail skirts a meadow giving the first real mountain view of the hike. There are some wildflowers, but nothing like last week. The meadows are stair-stepped here like on the first section of the trail, but with bigger climbs in between. And the meadows are larger and provide nice views of the southern buttress of Nakai Peak.

The trail goes through a couple of these meadows, becoming less a trail and more a faint suggestion of where to walk. Just below my destination, I hear a noise like distant thunder but not very loud. And there are no visible clouds. Then I see an elk. She sees me and is gone before I can get a picture, her hooves hitting rock. Perhaps the thunder was her sister or cousin scrambling over some rocks.

The final meadow before the lake is really a series of large puddles, almost like rice paddies. Shallow enough to grow grass, but quite large. They’re even on three levels, terraced. Long blades of grass float in the deeper sections.

At last I arrive at Haynach Lake. On the map, it looks to me like a hammer-head shark from above, head to the right and in a furious turn, tail fin nearly touching head, with a small dorsal fin between. The trail ends in the grass a few yards from the lake, where the mouth of the shark would be. There is a tumble of large rocks right there, so I set up the camera and dive into my picnic.

While passing through those open meadows I was worried I wouldn’t have many clouds to capture in time lapse, but that wasn’t a problem by the time I arrived at the lake. In fact, the clouds were looking distinctly unfriendly. By the time I took the second bite of my sandwich, graupel started to fall. I could see they were widely dispersed by watching the surface of the lake. Ripples about six feet apart. That didn’t last long, though, and the graupel turned to pea-sized hail and it was coming down fast.

I scrambled to get the SLR out of harm’s way but left the GoPro running. I found refuge among a couple scrawny trees. That, too, didn’t last long. By the time I was done eating it had quit hailing (and never did rain), and some patches of blue sky were visible. I wandered towards the tail fin to get a different view. I thought it was worth the price of admission.

On the hike back to the car, I had a fruit break at Granite Falls and studied the burned parts in a bit more detail. It looks like there hasn’t been much rain since the fire went out. In a few places, burned material has been washed down the slope like little lava flows. A couple of spots there was enough water flowing to expose unburned ground, badly eroding a few feet of trail. Any sort of moderate rain fall will certainly leave visible scars. And almost all the tree trunks are still standing. I expect 90% of them to fall in the next few years. With dead roots, a fairly stiff breeze will be all it takes. Fire is an integral element of the forest ecology. Lodgepole pine cones often need exposure to extreme heat to release their seeds. But seeing the forest like this, it’s hard to think of it as part of a process of renewal.

There were quite a few more hikers on the lower section of the trail. I didn’t meet anybody for the better part of four hours – between Granite Falls on the way up and a bit below the Haynach spur on the way down – but from Granite Falls to the car I came across dozens.

Approaching the car, I evaluated the day. I’d missed my target starting time but still made it to the lake before noon. Even spending nearly an hour at the lake, I’d be back to the car before 4:30. And I had the unexpected experience of walking through a freshly burned forest. I saw an elk but I didn’t see any moose.

Then, not more than twenty feet from my car there’s a moose. The guy hiking in front of me had stopped and was signaling me to be quiet. It took me a few seconds to spot the moose. At first I thought it was a cow but it was a young bull with small antlers. I hike 17.4 miles hoping to see a moose and when I see him, a family piles out of a minivan and takes pictures of him.

Over Trail Ridge Road, traffic not as bad as last time, but still lots of people who disregard all signage. Do not stop on roadway. Use pullouts. Ooh! There’s an elk! Stop the car right in the middle of the road and get a picture! Pullout, shmullout.

I’d have gone home the way I came, but I’m out of beer so I decided to pick up a case at the Estes Park Brewery. Six o’clock by the time I get there, so I call Genae and tell her I’ll eat here. Fish and chips. Traffic not so bad to Lyons, but they had to stop cars to clear a motorcycle from the road. The flatbed arrived just a few cars ahead of me so we got waved by while they were positioning the truck.

A long day, but well worth it.

Timetable

	Up	Down
Trailhead (8,800′)	07:40 AM	04:20 PM
Tonahutu trail jct	08:20 AM	03:45 PM
Granite Falls (9,800′)	09:40 AM	02:20 PM
Haynach spur trail	10:45 AM	01:20 PM
Haynach Lake (11,060′)	11:45 AM	12:35 PM

Pipit Lake

Posted on August 6, 2013 by dhill

Sunday, August 4

Within days of my failure to reach Lake of the Clouds, I decided that Pipit Lake would the be the next destination. I was all set to go on July 28 but the weather was bad so I delayed the hike for a week. Then on Saturday night I consulted the maps again and thought perhaps I’d hike to Junco Lake instead. Both Junco and Pipit require reaching Bluebird Lake first, both are the same distance, and Junco is at a slightly higher elevation. At one point I thought I’d make my decision only when I reached Bluebird, but as I’m hiking alone I thought it was better if I had a definite route planned before leaving the house. Always let people know where you’re going.

Before going to bed I decided to stick with the original plan – Pipit it was. I’ll save Junco Lake for next summer.

On my last hike, I walked alongside the Grand Ditch, a water diversion project started a century ago and still in operation. Bluebird Lake features in the history of water projects in Wild Basin, too. Back in 1915 the Arbuckle Reservoir Company received approval from the state engineer to build a dam at Bluebird Lake (Arbuckle Reservoir #2). I’m having a hard time imagining the effort required to get tools and materials to the lake. Bars of steel reinforcement were chained in bundles to an axle beam connecting two wagon wheels, with the end dragging along the ground behind a team of four horses. Sacks of cement were carried by donkeys, as were the parts of the disassembled rock crusher and the car engine used to run it.

Today, the trail between Ouzel Lake and Bluebird Lake hardly looks like a pack trail. While most pack trails in the park are quite wide and much improved, this section of trail is narrow and rocky with relatively few obvious improvements. In places, it’s packed dirt a few inches wide running through waist high grasses. The last section of trail is quite steep, switching back and forth. But I’ve gotten ahead of myself.

I hit the trail a bit before eight on another brilliant, nearly cloudless morning. Based on the cool temps when I left the house, I was expecting it to be a bit brisk at first but was pleasantly surprised it was quite nice – warm and calm. The first few miles of this trail can be quite crowded; the sandals and no water crowd visiting Copeland Falls, those with a bottle of water making it to Calypso Cascades or Ouzel Falls.

Not long after Ouzel Falls, the Thunder Lake trail meets the Bluebird Lake trail. I stopped here for a few minutes to apply sunscreen. After the junction, the trail climbs to the top of a ridge that was burned back in 1978. Lower on the trail, before Ouzel Falls, the forest almost seems back to its pre-fire condition when you’re hiking through it, but from above the fire’s path is still clear. Here on top of the ridge, the forest has made little progress and the views of the surrounding mountains are still clear and dramatic. While the views are fantastic, it means the hiker is left exposed to the sun and wind for an extended time. It was too early to be hot yet, but I was expecting it to be a bit on the warm side on my way down.

Here I chatted with a couple who had spent the night at Ouzel Lake. He said he’d heard moose were in the area but he didn’t see any. “If there were moose here, they’d have been around the lake where there’s lots of vegetation for them. There are no moose here.”

Spot the Hikers

I was dreading, a bit, the section of trail between the Ouzel junction and Bluebird Lake. The trail climbs quite steeply, gaining about a thousand feet in less than two miles. As soon as the trail reenters the forest, there’s a large field of debris left by an avalanche that roared through the trees a few years ago. I stopped here to snack on some fruit but was hounded by mosquitoes so I didn’t dally long.

After a short forest section the trail passes through a series of meadows and rock piles. The meadows are a riot of wildflowers – red and yellow, blue and purple, white. When I say I hiked through mile after mile of wildflowers I’m not being hyperbolic. The last mile or so of the trail to Bluebird, plus the mile from there to Pipit were through these fantastic fields of flowers.

I reached Bluebird in good time. There were six or eight other hikers here, perched on rocks here and there near where the trail ends at the outlet stream. I made my way down into the little chasm the outlet stream passes through; crossed it on some rocks and made my way up the other side. This is where the dam was. There’s no sign of it; a testament to the skill of the rangers who cleared it out. Lisa Foster notes the obvious “bathtub ring” around the lake as indication it used to be dammed up, but I think nature has done a good job of erasing it.

Bluebird Lake and Mt. Copeland

Now on the north side of the lake, I gained elevation slowly as I worked my way west. I wanted to be above a large rock outcropping on the west side of the lake. There is no trail here. I occasionally found a faint path, but the route traverses a lot of talus and I saw few cairns. I made my way up a gully above the rock outcropping and ran into a wall of willow. I immediately flashed back to my hike to Keplinger. But here I was back in the clear after only a few feet and a few minutes later found myself at the edge of Lark Pond.

It occurs to me how many lakes in the area are named after birds: Finch Lake, Bluebird Lake, Lark Pond, Chickadee Pond, Falcon Lake. Those are the obvious ones. Pipit, Junco, and Ouzel are also birds. A few miles away, as the ptarmigan flies, is Ptarmigan Lake. How many more lakes here are named for birds?

Lark Pond

From Lark Pond it’s only a few more minutes and a few more feet of elevation to reach Pipit Lake. I was going to say “walk across the tundra and rocks”, but it’s not really tundra here, is it? I don’t generally think of wildflowers when I think tundra. Although the flowers aren’t as dense here as lower on the trail, they’re still quite abundant. I made a point to walk on rocks where I could. Not just to avoid stepping on the flowers, but the ground is marshy in places as well. It looked to me like water was flowing in braids through this area only a few days ago.

Reaching Pipit Lake, I set up the cameras and tucked into my lunch. There’s no shade here, and no shelter from the wind. But it was fairly calm, so not a problem. After only a few bites I was wishing there was a bit more of a breeze, to keep the rich insect life out of my face. I found it better to pace back and forth a bit.

Pipit Lake pano

I’ve been taking a can of soda with me on these hikes for as long as I can remember. I’ve never had a problem with the carbonation before. But today when I opened the can, it fizzed right out of the can. I kept sucking it up but it kept boiling over. By the time it calmed down, I was left with only about two thirds of a can and a sticky hand. I was nearly out of water now, so it was a great time to refill.

I’ve been using a SteriPEN for about a year now and am quite pleased with it. I used to carry two one liter bottles of water. On the longer hikes, I found myself husbanding my water supply somewhat so that I didn’t run out of water before making it back to the trailhead. Now I don’t worry about it at all. I carry one bottle and the device and can drink as much as I want. On this hike, I refilled twice – once at Pipit Lake and again at Ouzel Falls on my way out.

So after getting more water at the outlet of Pipit Lake, I head back past Lark Pond and down to Bluebird Lake. Before long I see another hiker thirty or forty yards ahead of me. How can this be? I hadn’t seen anybody for quite a while, certainly not at Lark Pond or Pipit Lake. I caught up to her a few minutes later and we hiked together until just below Bluebird. She hit the trail at 5:45 and hiked to Isolation Lake. This lake is nestled at about 12,000′ in a cranny between Isolation Peak and Mahana Peak. Looking at the map, I had decided it was beyond my ability, but she told me the hardest part of the hike was crossing the area where we met. Just angle up the slope a little higher than I went to get to Lark Pond and it would be easy to get to.

Wildflowers abound

Further down the trail, still above Ouzel, I met a couple of hikers who told me they’d seen two bull moose farther down the trail. They were below Chickadee Pond and heading west. The next hikers repeated the story. I kept my eyes peeled and occasionally used the camera’s telephoto lens to aid in the search but no luck. The next hikers I caught up to also failed to see the moose. So, contrary to the hikers I met in the morning, moose are in the Ouzel Lake area if you’re lucky enough to see them.

On the hike out, it clouded up a bit (as is not unusual). This made the section through the burn area more pleasant than I was expecting; instead of dealing with bright sunshine on a warm afternoon it was slightly overcast and quite comfortable.

I took a final break at Ouzel Falls for more fruit and a refill of water. Fatigue was finally setting in and my pace slowed a bit. From Ouzel Falls on down the trail is quite crowded. I could see or hear other hikers the rest of the way.

Back at the car I was approached by a couple of park rangers. “We saw your car and wanted to chat with you.” They told me they’d seen me parked at the Sandbeach trailhead last month and were happy to see I didn’t have any hail damage. Evidently it hailed hard enough to set off the car’s alarm. I had no idea. We talked about how often people take pictures of my car. They were amused that with such natural beauty around people would take pictures of a car in the parking lot. We also talked about the sorry state of the dirt road to the trailhead. It’s in serious need of grading. I had to crawl along quite slowly not to fall into the holes. It’s noticeably worse now than it was when I hiked from the Finch Lake trailhead.

And here’s the obligatory time lapse:

Timetable

	Up	Down
Trailhead	07:40 AM	04:00 PM
Campground shortcut	08:05 AM	03:35 PM
Calypso Cascades	08:15 AM	03:20 PM
Ouzel Falls	08:35 AM	02:50 PM
Bluebird trail jct	08:45 AM	02:40 PM
Ouzel trail jct	09:35 AM	02:05 PM
Bluebird Lake	11:00 AM	01:05 PM
Pipit Lake	11:50 AM	12:30 PM

Lake of the Clouds, Nearly

Posted on July 24, 2013 by dhill

Sunday, July 20

I never paid much attention to how the continental divide meanders through Rocky Mountain National Park. I’ve always known that it runs generally north and south through the center of the park, from Ouzel Peak to Mt. Alice in Wild Basin, to Chief’s Head Peak and McHenry’s Peak (bypassing Long’s), along the dramatic ridges and peaks in the Bear Lake region, then north to Trail Ridge Road. Then it makes a loop, turns back to the south and makes the western boundary of the park along the ‘Cloud Mountains’ of the Never Summer range. Thus it is possible to be east of the divide and west of the Colorado River at the same time.

I discover this studying the map after my attempt to reach Lake of the Clouds. Attempt, because I didn’t study the map sufficiently prior to putting boots on the trail. I made a navigational error that cost me forty five minutes and left me just short of the lake by 12:30. I probably could have made the final few hundred yards, but I try not to dally above treeline after noon, particularly when clouds are gathering. So this goes in the books as another “failed” hike. I’m getting used to this, as I seem to have one or two each year. But I can live with such failures – it was another glorious day in the park and I very much enjoyed the hike.

Lake of the Clouds is situated in a cirque cradled in the arms of Mount Cirrus and Howard Mtn. Mount Cumulus, Mount Nimbus, and Mount Stratus are lined up to the south of Howard Mtn. Lake of the Clouds is drained by Big Dutch Creek, which drops four hundred vertical feet and disappears in a tumble of boulders on the valley wall. But I begin in the wrong place.

I arrived at the Colorado River trailhead at about 8:30 and was on the trail by 8:40. The trailhead is on the west side of the park, about a half mile south of the lowest hairpin on Trail Ridge Road. The forecast was for nice weather, with the usual chance of afternoon showers. The morning was calm and nearly cloudless, as usual. The trail starts to the north and we quickly arrive at the Red Mtn Trail junction where we turn to the west and cross the Colorado River. Here it is not very wide, nor flowing swiftly, and could be easily waded. Hard to believe this trickle of water carved the Grand Canyon.

After crossing the valley, the trail turns to the south and soon crosses Opposition Creek for the first time. Here the trail gets steep, quickly climbing six hundred feet through mixed forest interrupted by the occasional spill of rocks. These treeless intervals give nice views of Kawuneeche Valley. You also see Trail Ridge Road across the valley, as far up as Fairview Curve. This means you also hear the traffic – the rumble of motorcycles and the hum of knobby tires on lifted pickup trucks.

The more or less level stretch of trail was welcome after the first steep section but is quickly done. Turning north again, we are below the Grand Ditch for about a mile and a half, gaining three hundred more feet to meet it. Along the way, we’ve crossed Opposition Creek again, along with Mosquito Creek, its major tributary. The forest here is fairly pleasant, with sunlight shining brightly on the green ground cover. Part of the reason so much sun hits the ground is that a significant number of the trees have been killed by beetles. Some places very few trees are dead, but in others perhaps eighty percent have succumbed. Looking across the valley we see much the same situation.

Upon reaching the Grand Ditch, the savvy hiker will turn right and continue north. I chose to disengage the brain and make a left turn after stopping to eat some fruit and slather on the SPF. Water in the ditch flows to the north, so I went ever so slightly uphill. This is my third time to the ditch and the first it’s had water in it. My diversion lasted about forty five minutes, but I did see nice views of Red Mountain so I can’t say it was a total loss.

The Grand Ditch can be seen from Trail Ridge Road. Before I knew what it was, I often wondered what road it was. A dirt service road runs alongside the ditch where an excavator can often be seen clearing slides or doing other maintenance. It was built starting in 1890, using hand labor, burros, and wheelbarrows. By 1936 it ran fourteen miles, diverting the water from several creeks in the Never Summer Range across the continental divide at La Poudre pass and into Long Draw Reservoir for use by Fort Collins farmers.

A bit less than two miles north along the ditch we encounter Big Dutch Creek. There’s a bridge here that I was tempted to call “substantial”. It’s wide and not made of logs like most park bridges. But it’s in a state of decay. Crossing the bridge begins another climb. There are a couple of campsites along the creek, which is in earshot and drowns out the noise from Trail Ridge. Reaching spongy meadows the trail attenuates, sometimes nothing more than trampled grass. These meadows are rich with flowers this time of year – yellows and reds, blues and purples.

Although here we’re still well below treeline, we come to the end of the forest. The trail makes another steep climb and deposits the hiker at the base of a boulder field. A giant boulder field. To our right, about a mile away is Lead Mountain’s flank. From here to there, nothing but boulders. Hart Ridge is ahead, to the west about a mile and nothing but boulders. Mount Cirrus and Howard Mtn are to the left, somewhat less than a mile, boulders all the way, this time with a waterfall which disappears into the boulders.

I stopped here. Had I not made a wrong turn, I’d have been here before noon and about three miles fresher. I’m guessing a quarter mile short of the lake but still over four hundred feet below it. There’s no trail from here on out, just rock hopping. The route up to the lake is to the right of the falls. Even though it looks to be only a quarter mile, it might take me an hour. But there’s only one way to find out, so this one gets put on the to-do list for next year.

I had my picnic lunch – ham and turkey sandwich on a bagel – and drank in the view for forty minutes. On my way back to the trail I encountered another hiker. We discussed the likely best route to the lake, but he decided not to go any further. Together we found the trail and started our descent. He stopped for his lunch at the first campsite we got to; I didn’t stop until I got back to the ditch, where I refreshed my water supply from Big Dutch Creek. I took a final break and ate more fruit somewhere in Hells Hip Pocket. Two hikers on their way up passed me; the second said hello, which surprised the first who walked two feet from me but didn’t see me. Good thing I wasn’t a bear. He needs to work on his awareness.

In the first five hours of my hike I only saw six other hikers. I can’t count how many I met in the last two. These were walkers, not hikers. Few carried water, some asked me where the trail went. Near the trailhead I saw a ranger a few yards off the trail, taking pictures of flowers and making notes on a clipboard.

I returned home over Trail Ridge Road. I had the choice of Berthoud Pass and I-70 or TRR. I figured either would involve a traffic jam. In addition to the usual Sunday afternoon volume on I-70 there’s also the tunnel construction below Idaho Springs. I decided getting stuck on TRR is the way to go; at least the view is nice.

Timetable

	Up	Down
Trailhead	08:40 AM	04:20 PM
Red Mtn trail jct	08:50 AM	04:10 PM
Grand Ditch	10:15 AM	02:50 PM
Big Dutch Creek	11:35 AM	02:15 PM
Not quite there (10,950′)	12:35 PM	01:15 PM

Spruce Tree House

Posted on July 18, 2013 by dhill

Saturday, July 13

While in Hesperus for Genae’s family reunion, I had a few free hours to attempt a hike in Mesa Verde National Park. After a nice breakfast with the family, I headed to the park. I didn’t have the means to pack a lunch, so I resigned myself to making a detour to the Subway in Cortez. When passing through Mancos, though, I spotted a grocery with a deli and saved myself some time and miles. I got a turkey club sandwich, a triple decker made out of Texas toast. I wondered how I’d open my mouth big enough to eat it.

I stopped in at the visitor center. It’s a new facility just outside the gates of the park. There, I consulted with a ranger. Mesa Verde is built more for people driving around than walking. There aren’t that many hikes in the park, and they really want you to stay on the trail. This makes a good deal of sense – the plateau is riven with canyons, and every one featuring a sheer sixty foot drop. This time of year, it’s also sunny and quite warm. There isn’t any water on the plateau and not much shade, either.

I decided the best option was the Petroglyph loop at the Spruce Tree House. This ruin is self-guided, where Cliff Palace, Balcony House, and Long House required tour tickets. There is a seven mile loop hike available, but it doesn’t feature any ruins. So the Petroglyph hike it was, at 2.4 miles.

First stop, though, was a quick tour through the Spruce Tree House. It’s a bit smaller than the the Cliff Palace, but quite striking nonetheless. A forest fire burned here last year, and was within yards of the ruins. The trees are all piñon pine and scrub oak. Even the best of the trees in the area looked half dead before the fire. Where it burned, there are a few dead trunks standing but only grass otherwise. Most of the road atop Chapin Mesa goes through the burn area.

The trail from the parking lot to the ruins goes down one side of the canyon and up to the ruins from below. The trail switches back several times and is paved with asphalt. In the morning the ruins are cool and shady. It’s only a couple hundred yards from the parking lot to the site, but lots of people were having difficulty. There’s a kiva that you can climb down into, but for the most part you are restricted to the area directly in front of the ruins and entry is forbidden.

The Petroglyph Point trail starts below the ruins and runs beneath the sheer slab of the rock formation that forms the top of the mesa. Sometimes flat rocks are stacked to make staircases, in other places steps are hewn from the living rock. The trail was not very crowded. It had rained the previous evening and it looked like only a couple dozen people had walked here since. It didn’t take long for me to pass a couple groups stopped at the various markers, reading the guide.

It was much warmer than I’m used to, and I went through water at about four times my normal route. After about a half mile, I was as secluded as I could get there. I could hear the group behind me yelling and laughing. The trail follows the bottom of the cliff along the inside of the canyon, neither climbing nor descending; a circuitous route.

A bit less than a mile along the trail are the petroglyphs. I have to admit I was a bit underwhelmed. The first time I saw petroglyphs was on a week long rafting trip down the Green River in Utah. We stopped for lunch one day and took a short hike up the canyon to see them. I remember them as being quite vivid, and on a large scale. These were subtle and small. The sign was almost bigger.

Just before arriving there, I’d been hearing voices ahead of me on the trail. I thought I had caught up to another group. Turns out they hiked out on the loop backwards to where it descends the cliff. This loop is one way, though, and they didn’t go down. I wouldn’t have gone down those steps myself. No problem going up, but not my cup of tea to go down. They hollered down at me: “Is that the petroglyph?”

Before coming up, I saw them a few yards away at the top, posing for pictures. From below, it very much had the sense of “Hold my beer and watch this!” One false move and they’re a splash of color on the rocks below.

The return part of the loop goes along the edge of the canyon, just above the trail below. There some places you can see the trail on the opposite side of the side canyon; I could hear hikers below me. Near the end of the loop, the trail crosses through the burned area just above the ruins. There I saw one giant flower; it was the only bright color in sight in any direction. Bees had found it and were going about their work. Who knows how far they have to fly each day? Not exactly a field of wildflowers.

Keplinger Lake

Posted on July 9, 2013 by dhill

Sunday, July 7

Lewis W. Keplinger was a student of John Wesley Powell at Illinois State Normal University. Keplinger was a member of Powell’s expedition that first successfully climbed Long’s Peak in late August of 1868. The group first attempted the summit by starting near what is now Lake Powell. They climbed the sharp ridge that connects McHenry’s Peak with Chiefs Head and Pagoda Mtn. They found themselves cut off from their destination by “impassable chasms.” They retreated and made camp near Sandbeach Lake. The next day, Keplinger set off on his own to reconnoiter. He found a couloir winding up the south flank and managed to reach within several hundred feet of the summit before returning to camp after dark. On August 23, the group set off on Keplinger’s route at 7am. In a couple of hours they had attained his highest point where another member of the party remarked that no man could scale the point and live. By 10am, the party made the summit, led by Keplinger.

Here’s how the Foster guide describes this hike:

Bushwhacking up the length of Hunters Creek valley is a grueling exercise in backcountry slogging, but it travels through one of the most pristine and beautiful valleys in RMNP. From the Sandbeach Lake Trailhead follow the Sandbeach Lake Trail for 3.2 miles to a bridge that crosses Hunters Creek. Leave the main trail and locate a faint path that travels along the northeastern side of Hunters Creek, heading northwest into the heart of the drainage. The path dips and rises with the rolling topography, climbing steadily up the valley. The trail disintegrates, but keep hiking along the creek for 2.4 miles to a beautiful, shallow, unnamed lake at 11,180 feet. Getting to this lake involves fighting through marsh and willow-choked terrain. From the unnamed lake, bushwhack west and around the butt of a small ridge for 0.25 mile to an unnamed pond south of Keplinger Lake. Turn north and scramble through a large boulder field for 0.6 mile to Keplinger Lake.

I tried to get to Keplinger Lake last year but only achieved the unnamed lake she mentions at 11,180′. The reason I only got that far was the willow. I got to this lake about lunch time and decided the only way to proceed was to backtrack down the creek a ways, cross the creek, and avoid all the willow. I decided I didn’t have enough time or energy, so that’s as far as I went.

I put boots on the Sandbeach Lake trailhead at 6:45, forty five minutes earlier than my abortive attempt last year. This earlier departure should ensure I’m at my destination in plenty of time for lunch. The forecast for Denver was low nineties with a 40% chance for rain. The morning was clear and cool, with only a few broken clouds visible.

The hike to Hunter’s Creek is pretty basic. From the parking lot, the trail climbs quickly to the top of a ridge, then levels off somewhat. The climb to Hunters Creek is roughly 1,800′ of elevation gain in 3.2 miles. There is one vantage point that St. Vrain valley but after that no views are afforded. The trail passes mostly through mixed forest, lodgepole pine with aspen mixed in. The fun begins when leaving the main trail.

The next section of trail is about a mile and a quarter long, from the Sandbeach Lake trail to a creek that joins Hunters Creek from the north at about 10,500′ elevation. This trail is quite easy to follow, except for the occasional spot where it is interrupted by recent deadfall. I’m guessing this trail is used mostly by folks climbing Long’s using Keplinger’s route, as to continue up Hunter’s Creek you must leave it where this other stream meets the creek. From here on, there really isn’t any trail and the bushwhacking begins in earnest.

The forest thins out about this point and soon the hiker is presented with a nice view of Pagoda Mtn. The creek climbs steadily but not very steeply. I found it was often easier hiking to stay ten or twenty yards away from the creek. Before long a large snow bank becomes visible on the flank of Mt. Orton. The creek bends a bit to the right (north) and leads you into the willow Foster mentions.

Although I had been on the lookout for a suitable place to cross Hunters Creek, I crossed too late and ran into the masses of willow anyway. This was a bit demoralizing. The terrain under the willow is hard to see – a false step and you could be in a wet bog or drop a couple of feet off a rock. Finding myself in the same predicament as last year, I felt there was no real option but to power through it. I eventually made it out into clear meadow, where the creek falls down the slope in braids.

From there to the next unnamed pond (at just a shade under 11,400′) it’s an easy climb. Here, I found some cairns stacked up – the first sign of a trail for quite a way. I followed these to the west side of the pond. Turns out this was a mistake. From the west side of the pond you get dumped right back into the nasty willow. At first it wasn’t too bad, sometimes only knee deep. But it got worse, much worse. Being so close and getting stymied by the willow a second time was not an option, so I put my head down and powered through. After clearing the willow, I was deposited in a boulder field, which was easier than the willow but not by much. It took me nearly an hour to go just over a half mile. By the time I reached Keplinger I was exhausted. Time for a picnic!

I set the cameras up, the GoPro looking over the lake at the rock walls of Pagoda Mtn and the SLR the other way, with a view of Mt. Copeland to the south. It had taken me a bit longer than I’d hoped to get here, so I didn’t stay my usual hour. I ate my lunch and filled up my water bottle and headed back down at 1pm. From above, it’s clear which way to go. I crossed the outlet and walked down the east side of the valley, a fair distance above the unnamed pond below. From there, I crossed the braided stream and continued almost due south, keeping all the willow and trees to my left. After a while, I headed into the thin forest and looked for a place to cross the creek.

Anybody going up to Keplinger should take this route, as it completely avoids the willow and boulder field. Unfortunately, I didn’t make note of where I crossed. I was just so happy to have avoided all the hard parts. So, really, going this way makes the hike fairly easy. The hardest part is the section between here and the stream crossing at 10,500′. The main feature of this part is the seemingly unending maze of deadfall that needs to be navigated.

On the way up, it took me nearly four hours to get from where the Sandbeach Lake trail crosses Hunters Creek to Keplinger Lake. On the way down, the same distance cost me less than two. Obviously, a good part of this is due to the fact I was going downhill instead of uphill, but I can’t overstress the importance of avoiding the willow. I’m certain I’d have saved an hour had I made the correct navigational choices on the way up.

I took a short break when I returned to the main trail, eating another bunch of grapes and refilling my water again. Here I met two hikers coming down from Sandbeach Lake. They were the fourth and fifth people I’d seen all day. A few minutes before reaching the Meeker Park trail junction, the skies darkened somewhat and I could hear the distant rumble of thunder. Another couple ran past me, trying to get back to the trailhead before the rain. At the trail junction, graupel started to fall and I donned my poncho. The graupel quickly turned into BB sized hail. After a few minutes the hail stopped and the sun shone at my back. The storm worked its way toward Lyons, the thunder sounding closer now, even though it was past me.

I didn’t see a bear this week. Two guys I met in the morning said they had a bear in their campsite as they were cooking breakfast, which must have been a thrill. I know how thrilled I was to meet a bear thirty yards away. In fact, the only wildlife I encountered (other than squirrels and birds) was the deer I saw in Lyons. They must train their deer well – this velvet antlered buck crossed the highway using a crosswalk.

And here’s the time lapse video. I particularly like the bug walking across the camera lens.

Timetable

	Up	Down
Trailhead	06:45 AM	04:25 PM
Meeker Park trail jct	07:20 AM	03:50 PM
Hunters Creek	08:20 AM	02:50 PM
Stream crossing	09:05 AM	02:15 PM
Unnamed lake (11,400′)	11:25 AM	01:15 PM
Keplinger Lake	12:15 PM	01:00 PM

Cony Was the Plan

Posted on July 2, 2013 by dhill

Sunday, June 30

About a week ago I decided that my next hike would be to Cony Lake. It’s an ambitious hike for me – 9.2 miles each way and about a net 3,000′ elevation gain. If I made it all the way, I’d visit four new lakes – Cony Lake and the three Hutcheson lakes, Lower, Middle, and Upper. I realized the significant probability that I’d fall short, but even if I didn’t make it all the way, I’d likely bag 3 of the 4 lakes. Or so was the plan.

To get to Cony Lake, the fun really begins at Pear Lake. On my old topo maps (1958), Pear Lake is listed as Pear Reservoir. Around the beginning of the 20th century irrigationists wanting to increase the water supply for farmers and ranchers in the area constructed reservoirs at Sandbeach, Bluebird, and Pear Lakes. These three were all returned to their natural size after the Lawn Lake dam failed in 1982.

Pear Lake is seven miles from the Finch Lake trailhead in Wild Basin. From the parking lot, the trail traverses a ridge, quickly climbing about 500′ before a switchback at the top. From there, it levels off, passing through aspen glens and skirting meadows before reaching the first Allenspark trail junction. Here the trail begins another climb of about 600′. There’s another trail junction here, with another trail to Allenspark to the left, Calypso Cascades to the right, and Finch Lake straight ahead.

Now the trail passes through part of the Ouzel fire burn. Some of the new growth is getting large, as you might expect after thirty five years. But there is still a dramatic view of all the mountains surrounding Wild Basin. Forest fires are a destructive force, no doubt about it, but a natural part of the forest’s life cycle. Here, aspen and pine are growing amidst the gray trunks of the burned trees and wildflowers blanket the ground.

The trail is still climbing here, but not nearly as steeply or relentlessly as before. After a while, another ridge is topped and the trail descends to reach Finch lake, perhaps 250 or 300′ feet below. Finch Lake is surrounded by forest and has an outlet but no obvious inlet streams. It doesn’t feature any very dramatic views, but it’s a pleasant lake.

The next section of trail, from Finch to Pear, is two miles and climbs less than 700′. The trail goes slightly downhill at first, crossing the outlet from Finch and shortly thereafter crossing Cony Creek. This section of trail doesn’t offer much in the way of views but it’s pretty nonetheless, passing through thin forest and alongside occasional meadows.

I arrived at Pear Lake in three hours, which pleased me quite a bit. I was feeling pretty good, no fatigue after 7 miles and two-thirds of the total elevation gain. It seemed to me I had a very good chance of making it all the way to Cony. This is where things started to go wrong.

It wasn’t clear to me which way to circle the lake. I started on the south side but the trail petered out and I didn’t think it was the right way. So I circled back and attacked it from the other side. But first, I thought, it was time for a break. Although I’d stopped to chat with other hikers, take sips of water, and photograph the scenery, I hadn’t sat down since I left the trailhead. It was now time for a short break – have a seat and eat some fruit.

After this short break, I continued on my way. I found an intermittent trail around the lake and up one of the inlet streams. I wasn’t sure I was on the path as indicated in Foster’s guide, but I was seeing the occasional cairn. I figured as long as I was going up, I couldn’t be too far off. After a short while, I had climbed perhaps three hundred feet and came across a small unnamed pond. Checking the map, I decided that if I continued more or less due south and crossed a small rise on the other side of the pond, I’d find myself above Lower Hutcheson Lake. But first, I should take a picture of this pond. Where I realized I had left my camera and tripod at Pear Lake where I had my break.

It only took me a few seconds to assess the situation. I could leave a thousand dollars worth of camera gear and continue, or I could abandon Cony Lake and return to fetch my gear. I figured it was unlikely anybody would wander off with my stuff if I continued, but I certainly didn’t want the camera to get rained on, which was a real possibility. So abandon Cony Lake it was. I hate when I do stupid stuff.

I probably could have made it to Lower Hutcheson Lake, but I figured it was now late enough to have lunch right here at Pear, so I set up the GoPro and tucked into my picnic. I wasn’t going to use the SLR for time lapse but after a while decided to set it up after all. The clouds were quite interesting – to the south there were two layers moving in different directions at different speeds. While the cameras were rolling, I wandered around a bit. After a while, I noticed some very low level clouds approaching from the north. These clouds very quickly arrived at Pear, skimming just a few feet above the water. Fantastic stuff! The disappointment of not hiking any farther was somewhat offset by the show the skies put on. If the video came out, I’d have a fantastic sequence.

Thunder was rumbling in the distance and with the lake fully engulfed in cloud, I decided it was time to hit the trail. It started sprinkling and before long was coming down hard enough to warrant getting the poncho out. I must have caught just the tail end of this storm as the rain stopped completely before I was back at Finch. From there on down the trail, there were numerous puddles that weren’t there on the way up. Some sections of the trail were quite muddy, but now it was noticeably wetter.

The thunder continued. It was fairly distant, not much loud cracking – mostly just rumbling and grumbling. But I was certain I risked getting rained on in a substantial way, so I kept up a pretty quick pace. Before long I was on the final stretch back to the trailhead: at the top of the ridge overlooking the entrance to Wild Basin. On the way up I noticed that there were Columbines lining both sides of the trail here. I generally don’t see them until higher elevation. I have a bunch of Columbine pictures but they’re one of my favorite flowers and I couldn’t help but stop and take another picture.

This is a pack trail and, judging by the amount of horse dung, gets quite a bit of horse traffic. So I’m always looking to avoid stepping in it. A few yards farther down the trail I stepped over something else: I thought, “That looks like bear shit. I don’t recall seeing that on the way up.” Not that I’m taking notes on the kinds of shit I see; it could have been there before and I just didn’t notice.

A few yards farther down the trail I see a bear sitting on the trail. He (she?) is maybe thirty yards away. It’s the first bear I’ve ever seen while hiking, maybe even the first bear I’ve seen in the wild, at least since I was about six and we went to Yellowstone. But here’s a bear, sitting on the trail I need to take to get to my car. I do a quick mental inventory of what food I’m carrying – just a few grapes and some potato chips. I do a quick assessment of escape routes – just the one, back up the trail. I think of the old joke about running away from bears: “I don’t need to outrun the bear, I just need to outrun you!” But I’m alone.

I am quick enough with the camera to get a nice photo or two, all the while shouting things like “Bear! Don’t bother me and I won’t bother you!” I had passed some other hikers back up the trail and expected to have company any time now, but nobody caught up to me. Perhaps they’d taken the trail to Allenspark?

After a few nervous moments, the bear got up and headed straight down the slope, off the trail. I waited a short time before resuming the hike. The bear left the trail, but I couldn’t see him for very long and had no real idea where he was. Let’s just say my situational awareness now was at a peak. I didn’t dally long but did make an unsuccessful effort to locate the beast. For the rest of the hike I paid a fair amount of attention to what was behind me until I was back at the car.

All in all, although I was disappointed that I didn’t reach my destination due to my own stupidity, had I not made that error, I wouldn’t have witnessed the amazing cloud show and wouldn’t have seen a bear. So I can’t complain much. And not making it to Cony means I’ll just have to do this hike again. Although probably not this year.

Finally, here’s the time lapse. This is most of the GoPro footage, which suffers from variable exposure (because it’s automatic) and all the footage from the SLR. It wasn’t particularly windy, at least where the cameras were standing, so I’m not sure how to explain the motion of the SLR. So, technically, the video is not great. But I do like the content.

Timetable

	There	Back
Trailhead	07:00:00 AM	03:50:00 PM
Allenspark trail jct	07:35:00 AM	03:15:00 PM
Calypso trail jct	08:00:00 AM	02:55:00 PM
Finch Lake	09:00:00 AM	01:30:00 PM
Pear Lake	10:05:00 PM	12:30:00 PM

Two days, two tracks

Posted on June 28, 2013 by dhill

It has been a busy week, so I’m a bit late posting this.

Saturday, June 22

I went to High Plains Raceway on Saturday with the Z Car Club of Colorado. This was my first day with the ZCCC. When running a CECA day, they prefer drivers to have their cars run through tech inspection before getting to the track. For that, they arranged for Peak Eurosport to do the inspections. If you don’t do that, they’ll still inspect you at the track before the drivers’ meeting. ZCCC has a couple tech sessions in the week prior to the event. If you miss those and want an inspection at the track, it’s an extra ten bucks.

In addition to getting the car teched before the event, I also did a little additional preparation. I’ve run out of gas at HPR twice. Well, not at HPR but between HPR and the nearest gas station (17 miles away). So I bought a 5 gallon gas can. I had to snicker a bit when I realized that this can holds half a tank of gas. Properly prepared, I should never run out of gas at the track again.

I also finally bought a lawn chair that fits in the car. All our lawn chairs are the old-fashioned kind, mesh on an aluminum frame. The sort they used to sell back in the sixties. The newer type when folded aren’t much bigger than the car’s soft top and easily fit in the boot. So, in addition to not worrying about running out of gas I could also relax in a comfy chair. Let the fun begin!

ZCCC splits drivers into four groups: A, B, C, and D. A is Expert and D is Novice. I elected to run in the B group. I can’t imagine calling myself expert at this any time soon. They had 46 cars turn out, including 21 Datsun/Nissan/Infiniti, 7 Miatas, 6 Corvetttes, 5 Porsches and a variety of others. Part of that variety was two Elises. There were a few familiar faces from CECA days and everybody made me feel right at home. A good group and I’m sure I’ll join them for another track day sometime.

The weather was fairly warm. Mostly sunny, until the end of the day when a thunder storm passed west of the track, moving south to north. On the news that night I learned that that storm dumped golf ball sized hail on the prairie. I’m glad it missed the track!

I had an unbroken string of days at HPR where I improved my best time each day. “Had”, as Saturday was the first time I wasn’t faster than my previous outing. My best lap was in the first session, two laps under 2:20. I keep working on finding a faster way around the track. I’m blaming my slower times on the hotter conditions until I learn the real reason. I’ve decided I can go quicker by taking later apexes on several of the turns. I dedicated my last session to trying this. I think I’m headed in the right direction, in spite of the hard data indicating otherwise. Next time I’ll remember to take my pyrometer so I can learn just how hot my tires are getting and collect some additional data.

I made a video of the day, this time a “Frankenlap”. I ran five sessions and mounted the camera in a different place for each. One was mounted inside the car, directed at me. I used that as the “master” shot (primarily to get the best sound) and spliced in bits from each of the other views.

Sunday, June 23

Michael and I went to Speed Raceway down in Centennial. It’s an indoor go-kart track that runs electric carts. We went with LOCO and had 15 folks turn out for the event.

They time each lap for each kart. Results are purely based on lap times, not who gets the checkered flag first. They tell drivers that if a faster driver catches up, let him pass. That may be counter to lots of peoples’ natural inclination.

We got to run three races, the first two which they characterize as “practice” and “qualifying”. They put a maximum of six cars in each group, so to get times for everybody we had three groups. Michael and I ran together the first two times. I was third, he was second each time. We both managed to improve our times each session. Michael ended up fourth overall while I was sixth.

It was a lot of fun, but I got pretty beat up by the kart. I was still hurting a bit from my day at HPR. I need to get a knee pad for my left leg. Even though I’m securely belted into my seat, my left leg takes a beating, leaving me bruised and abraded. And from experience I know I get thrown around pretty badly by the karts. The seats aren’t exactly made for me and the restraints aren’t the best racing harnesses. I ended up with a giant bruise on my back, about the size of my hand with fingers extended. As they say, “no pain, no gain!”

We even got a little podium ceremony. No champagne to spray, not even airline sized bottles as befitting such a colossal event!

Finally, it was good it was an indoor track, as it rained fairly hard while we were racing. It was hot out, so when we got out of the car I told Michael to leave the window cracked a bit. When we got back out, his seat was dry but mine was fairly soaked. So it goes.

Tourmaline Lake

Posted on June 20, 2013 by dhill

Sunday, June 16

Tourmaline is a gemstone that comes in a wide variety of colors. More technically, tourmaline is a crystal boron silicate mineral compounded with elements such as aluminum, iron, magnesium, sodium, lithium, or potassium. Whatever that means. Was the lake given this name because tourmaline can be found there, or because of the color? I have no idea.

There are two obvious routes to reach Tourmaline Lake. In either case, you get there by visiting Odessa Lake first, meaning you can start either at Bear Lake or the Fern Lake trailhead. It is nearly a mile shorter starting from Bear Lake, but I chose to start at the Fern Lake trailhead for two reasons. First, the trail from Bear Lake descends about 500′ between Lake Helene and Odessa Lake, meaning I’d have to do an uphill stretch on the way back. I like to get most of my uphill hiking done before lunch. Second, and more importantly, I haven’t hiked from the Fern Lake trailhead since last fall’s fire.

The fire started on October 9 in rugged terrain near the Pool. It was still burning November 30 when seventy mile per hour winds pushed it to Moraine Park. Except for a small stand of trees damaged on the south side, Moraine Park looks almost untouched by the fire – the grass is regrown and although many of the shrubs along the stream were burned many of them are now sprouting green leaves. It appears to me that many of those shrubs have black bark on the trunks (stems?) so it may be that fewer of them burned than I originally surmised.

I arrived at the trailhead shortly after eight and was on the trail by 8:20. It was a pleasant sunny morning. Forecast for Denver was a high of 84, so I figured maybe ten degrees cooler at the trailhead and another few degrees at Tourmaline. The weather report suggested a fifty percent chance of rain. But at eight, there were no clouds in the sky and no wind to speak of.

Burned area south of the Big Thompson

Within a couple hundred yards of the trailhead, I could see large burned areas across the river on the south side of the valley. In my mind, I always felt the section of this trail, from the trailhead to the Pool, is very similar to the lower section of the Thunder Lake trail in Wild Basin. Both run alongside the north bank of a large, boisterous stream and have very gentle gradients. On the Thunder Lake trail, you don’t get to the burn area of the Ouzel fire until well after you cross the river. On the Fern Lake trail, there is very little fire damage on the trail itself. There are a few small burned spots right along the trail before arriving at the Pool.

Looking towards Trail Ridge Road

At the Pool, the trail crosses to the south side of the Big Thompson and splits: Cub Lake to the left, Fern Lake up and to the right. Not long after that junction, the Fern Lake trail crosses Fern Creek. This crossing is a simple log bridge – two logs side by side, cut flat for a walkway, with a smaller log serving as a railing. Here the fire crossed the creek with burned trees and blackened ground on both sides of the creek. But the bridge was, strangely, untouched. From here the trail climbs steadily and zig-zags a couple of times reaching Fern Falls before finally flattening and straightening on the final approach to Fern Lake. At times the hiker is presented with a view of the terrain on the north side of the valley. That is where most of the fire burned, all the way up to the tree line.

I didn’t see any snow on the ground until reaching Fern Lake, where a snow bank covered the trail. By now the skies along the divide were no longer blue. Trying to be witty I might say the weather performed alchemy, transforming cobalt to lead. But the clouds weren’t that gray. At Fern Lake the trail crosses the outlet then passes through a boulder field before regaining the forest. From here to the Odessa Lake spur, the trail climbs steadily and provides the occasional view of Fern Lake through the trees.

The spur trail to Odessa Lake crosses the stream once again. The trail here is quite close to the stream. There is quite a bit of runoff and the trail here is wet and muddy. The trail dumps you at the northern end of the lake with a nice view of Notchtop. To get to Tourmaline Lake, circle to the west and south until reaching Tourmaline Creek. From here, there’s not much of a trail. Just follow the stream. I occasionally found a faint trail or a few cairns, but that was the exception.

The hike gets steep here. From trailhead to Tourmaline Lake the total elevation gain is 2,470′ over 5.4 miles. But the elevation gain from Odessa to Tourmaline is 560′ of that and in only about a half mile. The stream falls down the mountainside in braids and quite often underneath piles of boulders. I took my time on the steep parts, taking in the view of Joe Mills Mountain. The trail from Odessa to Bear Lake is a visible gash on the far side of the valley.

Here the clouds got productive. After one steep ascent the route flattens out a bit. This is where the graupel started falling. Neither snow nor hail, but something in between it melted fairly quickly when it hit the boulders, making them somewhat slippery. I put my windbreaker on (just shorts and Hawaiian shirt necessary until now) and the little pellets were now quite audible. After a short while the trail gets steep again for the final assault on the lake. There was some snow on the ground. I came prepared with micro spikes but never put them on. I postholed in a couple of places but the snow wasn’t much of an issue.

Tourmaline pano

Arriving at the lake, I set up the GoPro for a timelapse before tucking in to my picnic lunch. The sky was solid formless cloud with no apparent motion. I let the camera run anyway, as you never know what you’ll get. (In this case, I got nothing. So no time lapse video for this lake. Yet.) But because of the clouds, I didn’t bother setting up the SLR for a time lapse and instead climbed up a pile of boulders in an attempt to get a nicer angle.

Tourmaline Lake

Seems a turkey sandwich always tastes better when I’m sitting at an alpine lake, even if it has been slightly smashed in the pack. And even if the clouds are starting to look a bit threatening. I didn’t dawdle long. I often linger for an hour or so, to make sure I take in all I can. But I didn’t like the looks of things, so I packed up and headed down the mountain. Just in time to get graupeled on again. I managed to retrace my steps, finding most of the trail fragments and cairns I saw on the way up.

On the final steep part before reaching Odessa, the precipitation changed to rain and thunder started rumbling through the valley. At first, it was just a light sprinkle but by the time I reached Odessa I decided it was more likely to get worse before it got better so I dug the poncho out of the pack. It rained steadily from there to Fern Lake, then only lightly until clearing up at Fern Falls.

Rain lashes Fern Lake

Not long after Fern Falls, the clouds had completely disappeared.

I took a number of photos of the burned sections right along the trail, but most of them are not very interesting – or perhaps misleading. Posting a few pictures of burned trees along the trail may give the impression there’s more damage than there really is. As I said earlier, it is often just a few feet of burn where the fire crossed the trail. But I will post one more, a panorama built from three photos around a bend in the trail. Note that the trees appear undamaged; only the deadfall actually burned.

Burned section of trail

All in all, a quite enjoyable hike. I’d like to revisit the lake with better weather, perhaps next time from Bear Lake.

Timetable

	There	Back
Trailhead	08:20:00 AM	03:50:00 PM
The Pool	09:00:00 AM	03:05:00 PM
Fern Lake	10:10:00 AM	02:00:00 PM
Odessa Lake	11:00:00 AM	01:30:00 PM
Tourmaline Lake	12:10:00 PM	12:55:00 PM

CP Colorado

Posted on June 10, 2013 by dhill

Yesterday was the 30th Annual Colorado Concours d’Elegance & Exotic Car Show, benefitting CP Colorado. Local and regional car clubs showcase about 500 rare and exotic sports cars. I’ve known about the show for a few years. The first year I owned the Lotus, the promoters were looking for a car that wasn’t in the show so they could do a television spot during channel 9’s local Sunday morning show and I volunteered for that.

Porsche Carrera GT

But this is the first time I’ve entered the car into any car show of any sort. They have two kinds of entries – display only and judged. Not knowing anything about how it works, I elected to enter as a judged car. In the weeks leading up to the show, I learned that at this one the judging is done entirely on how clean the car is. That is, you won’t lose any points for having the non-original equipment. There are a lot of different car makes and models in this show, and the judges aren’t experts on all of them.

I didn’t manage to get the car detailed before the show. The extent of my preparation was a fairly thorough wash after the Braille Rally on Saturday. I have a number of black marks around the rear wheels and a big splotch of dried adhesive where the prior owner mounted his radar detector. And, of course, the car isn’t a museum piece, like so many of the other cars entered. I’m driving it all the time, and that includes four or five track days a year. So I’ve been joking that I expect to get last place. Somebody has to be last, right?

1937 BMW

Michael went with me. We got there a bit before 8am, entering the gates a couple cars behind a 1937 BMW. Porsche is the featured marque for this year’s show; they arrived using a different entrance, so we did a little “zipper merge” with them as we rolled onto the field. We didn’t have to go far – the Corvettes were immediately to the left of the entrance, and the Lotuses were just past them. Steve directed us to a spot between Tatiana and William. When we got onto the grass from the sidewalk, we heard the strangest noise. The car is so low, the grass is taller. The blades of grass brushed along the flat bottom of the car making a noise that sounded a lot like water coming off the tires, as if the sprinklers had run too long and had just been shut off.

After getting situated, I headed out for my first pass to check out all the cars. Because Porsche is the featured marque, it seemed like they comprised half the field. That’s a bit of an exaggeration – they probably weren’t there in any greater number than for the typical Cars and Coffee Saturday in Lafayette. Okay, so maybe they were half the field. There were several notable cars there, including a Porsche Carrera GT. And for the first time, I saw more Ford GT’s than Elises (3 to 2).

The Lotus area

I don’t know how many cars actually showed up. I know we were expecting a few more Lotuses. There are sixteen listed in the program but I only counted thirteen (twelve in the Lotus area and one in the Founder’s Circle). Four Elises are in the program, but we only had two. So I’m not sure if the 500 cars is a count of cars entered or the number that actually show up.

The weather was very nice. We were situated near some trees which provided welcome shade and there were a couple of picnic tables nearby. I’m still in the dark ages as far as lawn chairs go (having only the prehistoric aluminum folding chairs), so Michael and I either wandered around, used the picnic table, or sat in other people’s chairs. Clearly, I need to upgrade to a chair I can carry in the Lotus.

It was after noon before the judges showed up in our area. There’s a place on the form for “Class”. I had no idea what class I was in, so left it blank. Turns out the judging for Lotuses is broken down to Chapman era cars and post-Chapman cars. I believe Tatiana’s and mine were the only Lotuses getting judged. So my prophecy of being in last place was confirmed. Maximum score possible for my car was 250.5 and I managed 214.8. As I said above, it’s totally based on cleanliness. I was awarded full score for “operation of lights, wipers, door latches” even though I had a headlight burn out last week. And full points for “tool bag, tools, jack and tire strap” and “spare tire and wheel assembly”. The Elise has no spare tire.

Second Place!

So my last place entry managed a red ribbon for second place!

I think I’ll do this again next year, judging and all. Now that I have a “baseline” score, we’ll see how many points a good detail is worth.

Nobody is Listening

Road Trip, Track Day, and Hiking Adventures

Author Archives: dhill

Navigational Error

August 17, 2013

Haynach Lakes

Saturday, August 10, 2013

Timetable

Pipit Lake

Sunday, August 4

Timetable

Lake of the Clouds, Nearly

Sunday, July 20

Timetable

Spruce Tree House

Saturday, July 13

Keplinger Lake

Sunday, July 7

Timetable

Cony Was the Plan

Sunday, June 30

Timetable

Two days, two tracks

Saturday, June 22

Sunday, June 23

Tourmaline Lake

Sunday, June 16

Timetable

CP Colorado