Imagine your left hand, palm up. The hikes in the James Peak Wilderness correspond roughly to your fingers: Rogers Pass Lake and Heart Lake would be on your thumb and Lower and Upper Forest Lakes your pinky. Clayton Lake, then, as well as the two Iceberg Lakes, would correspond to your index finger.
Back before James Peak Wilderness became part of the National Wilderness Preservation System in 2002, there were trails serving the lakes on each of your fingers. The trail to Clayton Lake, though, was “abandoned” about thirty years ago. (The trail to Arapaho Lakes was similarly abandoned a bit more recently.) According to various online resources, though, the trail still gets quite a bit of use. All these sources say the same thing: just follow the creek straight up the hill. Descriptions of this former trail are all very similar: “The creek and trail funnel through a rock-bound gulch with little room to maneuver.” “That last part was pretty hard but really cool.” “There is a section that is a bit of a steep scramble. Used my hands quite a bit through that section.” And there’s this one: “I read all the comments and they said ‘It’s hard to see the trail as it’s not maintained.’ No, the trail just completely doesn’t exist at all. I attempted and got completely lost. It was quite scary and will never do it again.”
A couple of summers ago, I ran into a volunteer and quizzed him about reaching Clayton Lake. He suggested that it’s easier to get there by going up the Crater Lakes trail to about 9400′ or 9500′ elevation, then striking cross-country from there. On my hike to Crater Lakes a bit after that discussion had me thinking I knew where I should leave the trail. But it’s an inexact science. Satellite photos aren’t much help, as the area is fairly thick forest. But it does seem that this route avoids climbing straight up a steep slope. I was willing to give it a shot.
Ideally, I’d like to reach the two Iceberg Lakes as well, but I’m not confident I can do all three on a day hike. If I can’t collect the Icebergs in a day hike, I’ll need to backpack in and spend a night. I’m not confident that the “straight up the stream” route, including “steep scrambles” is something I want to try with a full pack. Perhaps the volunteer’s route is better suited. Well, there’s one way to find out.
Monday, July 10
I arrived at the trailhead parking lot at about 8 am. The road is in good shape right now and is set to improve as it is currently being graded. It’s about eleven miles of dirt road to reach the parking lot, but anything short of a low-slung sports car should have no trouble navigating it. I was a bit surprised to see only about a dozen cars in the lot, maybe half of which belong to backpackers not yet back from their destinations.
At the trailhead, there used to be a sign-in sheet where all hikers were expected to list the date, number in the group, their destination, and how long they’d be on the trail. This logbook is no longer there; at least it wasn’t there today.
It took me an hour and ten minutes to reach the trail to Crater Lakes. I hiked up this trail for about forty-five minutes, periodically checking the elevation with my phone. I was at more or less the correct elevation, I figured, so off the trail I went. Going was fairly easy at first, not too much deadfall and the terrain I was crossing was fairly level.
My plan was to avoid making any steep climbs, heading west or southwest and climbing as I went. Before long, I came across a small stream. I wasn’t expecting to reach water until I got to the stream that is the outlet from Clayton Lake, but it didn’t seem like this stream (actually three or four small streams braiding their way down the slope) carried enough water to be Clayton’s outlet. Nonetheless, I headed uphill following the stream.
The forest here was getting more difficult to traverse, getting steeper and having more fallen trees. I crossed the stream half a dozen times as I climbed, always searching for the easiest route. At one point, I climbed a bit where I knew I’d have difficulty going down. I try to avoid going up slopes I think will cause me difficulty when going down, but I figured (if I managed to retrace my steps) that I could make a small detour if need be.
After following the stream for a while, I found the source of my little stream. I was standing at the edge of a marshy meadow. Rather than slog my way across it, risking wet feet, I skirted the meadow. On the other side of the meadow, I found a grassy ramp, somewhat steep, that climbed alongside giant granite slabs. Above me looked to be the low spot of a saddle. Perhaps I was getting close to the lake.
Topping this slope I found myself back in the woods. With the ground much more level, the walking was easy again. I kept climbing, always looking to find the low spot on the saddle. Continuing west or southwest, I expected to come across the outlet stream eventually. Passing through a small band of trees, I found myself on another grassy slope, walking slightly downhill, and could now see the lake. I had arrived on the northern shore of Clayton Lake.
The lake is mostly surrounded by forest. I’m a big fan of finding a nice rock to sit on for my picnic. Ideally, said rock would be in the sun, out of the wind, and close to the water. In search of such a rock, I worked my way around to the outlet. There’s still quite a bit of snow here and I easily crossed a snowdrift that hid the outlet. I saw no sign of the old trail, but there was a social trail that edged the north shore. Finding mostly snow on the south shore, I abandoned my search in this direction and doubled back.
From the time I left the Crater Lakes trail until I returned to the trail about three hours later, the only sign I saw of any other person was a boot print in the mud on the little social trail that skirted the north shore.
I wandered the north shore for about fifteen minutes before I found my picnic rock, considerably farther from the water than I wanted to be, but so it goes. Just before I got off the Crater Lakes trail, I met a couple of backpackers on their way back to the trailhead. I asked if they’d seen any game. “Just mosquitoes!” Mosquitoes aren’t big game, but even on my picnic rock, out of the trees and in a light breeze, mosquitoes buzzed me constantly. I’d sprayed some mosquito repellent on me back at the car, so I was happy that it seemed to still be working. They buzzed, but they never landed.
After relaxing for a bit more than half an hour, I started to retrace my steps back down the mountain. I’ve found that route finding is easier on the way down than on the way up: the value of the high ground. I quickly found a game trail. A few yards down the trail, I felt that I should have been heading more to my left, but I stayed on this game trail for a bit longer. It seemed to be well-traveled, punctuated as it was with pellets. Before long, I decided to backtrack, forgoing the trail for the untracked ramp I climbed earlier.
Back at the marshy meadow that was the source of the small stream I followed uphill for a while this morning, I managed to find another game trail. At no time on my climb to Clayton Lake did I find a game trail, but from this trail I found just below my marshy meadow all the way back to the Crater Lakes trail, I managed to go from one game trail to another.
My experience with game trails is that they’re nice when they’re nice, but they often stop being nice in the most inconvenient places. Today, every time deadfall blocked the trail, I was able to find its continuance a few yards later. Game trails generally aren’t singular things: they’re all part of a network. From the marshy meadow back to the trail, whenever there was a choice of direction, I kept to the left and downhill. I figured I couldn’t go too far left – I’d eventually reach the Crater Lakes trail. My only concern was not finding myself at the top of some rock outcrop that I couldn’t get down.
These game trails kept me out of trouble: I’m pretty sure the deer and elk aren’t interested in getting stuck on some random outcrop and they don’t want to go up or down anything too steep. As I said, this game trail took me right to the Crater Lakes trail. I made a note of where it is. On the hike up the Crater Lakes trail, there’s a large coil of cable just off the trail. I have no idea why it’s there, but it’s been there for years. I figure my game trail is something like three hundred yards past the cable, very near a large sawn tree trunk.
Given that my route back from Clayton Lake was so easy, I think I’ll return on a backpacking trip. Even having found this easy route, I think Iceberg Lakes are too far for me to reach on a day hike. Hiking cross-country with no trail is a lot more time-consuming and more strenuous. But I’m confident I can backpack up this route and by spending one night at Clayton Lake, I should be able to collect both Iceberg Lakes.
When I’m hiking on a trail, my mind often goes into auto-pilot mode. I just keep putting one foot in front of the other until I get to some navigation point. My feet stay on the trail, but my mind wanders. Bushwacking, though, is another story. My mind is intensely focused on the task at hand. Bushwacking is a bit like solving a maze that has more than one solution. At any given point, I’m looking for where I should go next. How do I get around this jumble of deadfall? I want to go there, but what’s the best way? Once I get there, where do I go next? My mind does not wander. I’m not thinking about some TV show, I don’t have some song earworming into my brain, I’m not bothered by what some idiot said on the internet, and I’m not worrying about rent, or debt, or thinking about what I might do tomorrow. I’m in the here and now, completely focused on the moment. It is glorious.
| Location | Up | Down |
|---|---|---|
| Trailhead | 8:10 am | 2:30 pm |
| Forest Lake jct | 8:46 am | 1:57 pm |
| Crater Lake jct | 9:20 am | 1:27 pm |
| Left trail/returned to trail | 9:54 am | 12:43 pm |
| Clayton Lake | 11:00 am | 11:57 am |