Tag Archives: Wild Basin

Hutcheson Lakes

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About a week ago I decided it was time to hike to Cony Lake. Last time I tried to hike to Cony I took a break at Pear Lake where I managed to leave my the SLR and tripod. Although the mission was aborted, I enjoyed a long lunch at Pear.

It’s 9.2 miles to Cony. I’d forgotten how long it was until I checked the Foster guide for a refresher. I wasn’t sure I was ready for an eighteen and a half mile hike. I spent a couple days telling myself I could do it. By Friday morning, there was no wavering. All systems go for a 6am departure, boots on the trail by 7:30. Last year it took me three hours to get to Pear. It’s 2.2 miles from Pear to Cony, so that shouldn’t be more than an hour and a half. Two hours tops. Lunch at Cony by 12:30, half hour lunch, back to the car by 6pm.

Saturday dawned cool and cloudless but a bit hazy – smoke from the fires in Washington and Oregon? I hit the road a few minutes behind schedule but traffic was light and I put boots on the trail promptly at 7:30. I brought micro spikes with me, but at the last moment decided not to carry them.

The trail climbs steeply from the parking lot to the top of the first ridge, about six hundred feet in a bit over a half mile. The climb ends with a hairpin; turning west the trail borders a meadow then enters an aspen grove. At the junction with Allenspark trail, another long climb begins – six hundred more feet in a half mile. Shortly after the junction we enter the eastern end of the burn area from 1978. Nice views of Meeker, Longs, Pagoda, and Chiefs Head can still be had, but the trees are getting big enough the view will not be do open for long. From this vantage point, it’s clear how Chiefs Head got its name.

From here the trail flattens out again before a short descent to Finch Lake. We are five miles and 1400 vertical feet from the car in a shade under two hours. Finch Lake isn’t much to my taste – what it lacks in a nice view it makes up for with an abundance of mosquitoes. To now I’d only encountered a few hikers. Here I met a large family. They spent the night here and asked me about the trail to Pear.

From Finch to Pear is two miles and seven hundred vertical feet. Two short steep parts with an interlude in between. The east buttress of Mt. Copeland rises from the forest on the right as we pass a small pond on the left.

Pear Lake was a reservoir for most of the 20th century. There’s still a visible bathtub ring, but the vegetation is slowly overcoming that. Even another thirty years won’t erase all evidence; a large boulder on the northwest shore will be two toned for some time to come. I made it in three hours almost on the dot.

Last year I went around Pear lake to the right. I followed Foster’s route and took the vague trail on the left side. This petered out pretty quickly and by the time I started climbing I was on my own. A short distance away were some folks getting situated on a large rock overlooking Pear Lake. By now I’d seen only about a dozen people.

A small stream feeds Pear here, not a large amount of water, but in several small courses braided up the hillside. I went up the east side, far enough away to avoid the marshy spots. There are a couple of unnamed ponds showing on the map here, and perhaps a couple more that aren’t on the map. After passing one of these I came to the top of the ridge and saw Middle Hutcheson Lake below me.

I headed down the hill a bit to Cony Creek. According to the map in Foster’s guide, I should cross to the south side of the creek about here. It runs in two or three major channels and I could cross it fairly easily. But after having a good look around I decide to stay on the north side. After climbing a hundred feet or so, I saw another hiker on an outcropping below me, on the south side. I don’t know that he saw me; it didn’t look like he was climbing any further.

I didn’t want to deal with the krummholz and willow, so I tended to be higher on the slope. Just below Upper Hutcheson Lake I saw an older couple headed the other way. The were a bit upslope of me and said that was the better route. A few minutes later I arrived at the ponds immediately below Upper Hutcheson and saw another couple. They had been to Cony before and thought it was too early in the season to continue to Cony. There was too much snow. I followed them through a couple patches of willow and to the shore of the lake.

It was 12:15. From here, I’d have to cross the talus slopes above Upper Hutcheson to the inlet, then up two hundred feet to the ledge that hold Cony. I quickly decided to stop here and put Cony on the to-do list for some August or September. Even had I brought the spikes, I was still at least a half hour from Cony. Next time I try this, I think I can save at least fifteen minutes between Pear and Upper Hutcheson having now scouted the route.

I set up the cameras and ate my lunch. The clouds building over the divide were darkening and at 12:40 it started to sprinkle. I packed up and started down. The couple were fishing and decided to wait out the squall. It took me an hour and a half to hike up from Pear but only an hour down. I considered stopping here for a fruit break. The few sprinkles had stopped pretty quickly, but now it was starting up again with bigger raindrops.

By the Pear Creek campsite the sun was shinning again. Here I met a back country ranger. We chatted for five or ten minutes. I learned that much of the park is designated wilderness. I thought it was just a park, but everything a mile from any trail is wilderness. I refilled the water bottle from the creek and headed to Finch. To my chagrin, my knees started getting a bit sore on the steeper downhill sections.

I polished off half my remaining fruit but didn’t dally long. The mosquitoes made a snack of me. I carry some mosquito repellant wipes in the pack, but the seal had broken and they were dried out. Oh well.

On the uphill section immediately after Finch Lake, I came across a couple who had spent the night at Pear Creek. As it was mid afternoon by now, I asked what they did all morning. They had hiked to Cony Lake. Somehow I didn’t see them, but they must have passed me while I was eating lunch. They described their route and said it wasn’t difficult even with the snow.

After this point, my progress slowed considerably. Every downhill stretch gave me a fair amount of pain in the knees. This sometimes happens, but not often. In my ignorance, I will blame it on taking such a long hike without getting in proper hiking shape. I don’t normally tackle the longer hikes until I’ve done a few intermediate length ones first.

By the last mile, fatigue had set in as well. Too tired to properly pick my feet up, I was now stumbling over roots and rocks. This added to the discomfort. The first couple times I rested, my knees felt better for a while, but for the last couple of miles rest did not aid. I made it to the car promptly at six; were it not for the pain I would have finished 30 or 45 minutes earlier. So it goes.

Timetable

Up Down
Trailhead 07:30 AM 06:00 PM
Allenspark Trail Jct 08:05 AM 04:55 PM
Calypso Trail Jct 08:30 AM 04:25 PM
Finch Lake 09:25 AM 03:05 PM
Pear Lake 10:35 AM 01:45 PM
Upper Hutcheson Lake 12:10 PM 12:50 PM

Pipit Lake

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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

Keplinger Lake

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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

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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 IMG_7401slarge, 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.

IMG_7914sThe 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?

IMG_7917sAfter 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

Ouzel Lake

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Mike and I talked about hiking to Pipit Lake. It hadn’t really occurred to me to hike there in winter; I guess I’m still stuck in the “hiking is for summer” mindset. But after trading a few emails on Tuesday, we decided to go the next day. It would be the best weather for at least the next week.

I picked Mike up at the park and ride and we headed to the park. His bus was a few minutes late, and we were in the teeth of rush hour traffic into Boulder so we didn’t exactly get an early start. The Wild Basin entrance station is closed for winter – that is, there is no ranger there. That’s pretty much standard year around, if you arrive early enough. Up the road we go, only to find the gate closed before the road crosses the river. This was new to me. I really had no idea when that gate was ever closed. I thought perhaps it got closed when snow piled up on the road.

We geared up and started up the road. The thermometer read 44 degrees when we left the car at 9:00. On the drive up, the sky was mostly cloudy, with some rather ominous looking dark clouds to the west. At the trailhead, though, it was clear blue skies above us and to the west, with fairly strong winds. It took us twenty minutes to reach the trailhead; we figured we’d hiked a mile already.

We made good time on the first part of the trail to the campsite shortcut. We’d passed a few trees that had fallen across the trail, something I’d not seen here before. Approaching Calypso Cascades, there was a spot where water flows over the trail. There are several logs serving as steps; water had filled the spaces between the logs and frozen making terraces of ice – miniature skating rinks.

From Calypso Cascades to a bit past Ouzel Falls the trail is on a north facing slope and is now covered with ice or packed snow. There’s not much snow on the ground, just on the trail. I don’t know how this season compares to normal, I suspect it might be drier than usual, but it’s still early.

We took a short break at Ouzel Falls. A great mass of ice has built up at the base and it looks like the ice at the left side forms each night and melts during the day. A large chunk fell off while we were sitting there.

Continuing, we paused for a minute or two at the next trail junction, where the Thunder Lake trail goes right and Ouzel/Bluebird goes left. We would soon be atop the ridge which had burned back in 1978 and I anticipated it would be quite windy. Time to put on a hat to keep the ears warm. Gaining the top of the ridge, the wind was breathtaking at times. The occasional gust stopped me in my tracks. There is no shelter on this section of trail, which is not so good when it’s windy or in the summer sun. But it’s always good for the open views of the surrounding mountains.

At the lake I set up the GoPro for a time lapse. I didn’t bother with the SLR as there were very few clouds, just a few small ones above the nearby peaks that dissipated before they moved too far. Also, I found that the original battery for the SLR had died after taking only a handful of shots during the hike to the lake.

We looked for a place out of the wind to have our picnic lunches and ended up at the campsite. No view, but mostly out of the wind. After a short while, I went back to the shore of the lake and retrieved the camera. I had placed it on a rock only an inch or so above the ice. It was the best I could do, but not good enough. The wind had blown it over. I managed to salvage the footage. I didn’t do any fancy cropping to simulate pans or zooms; all the camera motion is caused by the wind. The first segment is at half normal speed (two seconds per minute) while the second segment is normal (one second per minute).

On the way out, we opted to continue a short way up the Thunder Lake trail to the upper junction of the campsite shortcut. It’s always nice to see a little different terrain. I think the shortcut saves six or seven tenths of a mile when hiking to Thunder Lake, but we had to go four tenths to get to it. So the hike out was a few tenths shorter than the hike in. We were also on the sunny side of the valley so we took another short break there.

By now I was figuring we were the only visitors to Wild Basin. I was surprised when we encountered three groups of hikers heading toward Calypso Cascades (two couples and a solo hiker). In retrospect, we probably would have met somebody at Ouzel Falls. We were the first ones to the end of the road in the morning, but when we returned to the car there were about a dozen other cars there. Not alone in Wild Basin, but only meeting five other people on that lower section of main trail is about as much solitude as can be expected.

Timetable

Car 09:00 AM
Trailhead 09:20 AM
Campsite shortcut (bottom) 09:50 AM
Calypso Cascades 10:00 AM
Ouzel Falls 10:30 AM
Thunder/Ouzel jct 10:50 AM
Ouzel/Bluebird jct 11:35 AM
Arrive Ouzel Lake 11:50 AM
Depart Ouzel Lake 12:35 PM
Ouzel/Bluebird jct 12:50 PM
Thunder/Ouzel jct 01:25 PM
Campsite shortcut (top) 01:35 PM
Campsite shortcut (bottom) 02:10 PM
Trailhead 02:40 PM
Car 03:00 PM

Twin Lakes FAIL

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Not far off the Campsite Shortcut trail, two small lakes lie on a small bench on the hillside. They’re called Twin Lakes presumably due to their being next to each other because they’re not twins in any other regard.

The Foster guide says to take the Campsite Shortcut trail to the Siskin campsite, then head directly uphill 400 vertical feet. I copied that page from the guide and printed out a section of the 7.5′ topo map and headed off. I didn’t bother getting an early start, as it’s a fairly short hike – something like 3.3 miles to the first lake. I decided to make it a loop and visit Ouzel Falls and Calypso Cascades on the way back.

The main trail from the Wild Basin trailhead is a busy and well maintained trail. The first section runs alongside North St. Vrain Creek. Most hikers along this section go only to Calypso Cascades or Ouzel Falls; it’s pretty common to see folks wearing flip-flops and carrying no water. Just before the main trail crosses the creek, there’s a turn off for the campsites – thus the Campsite Shortcut trail. When heading to Thunder Lake or Lion Lake, I always take this route to save some distance and get away from the crowds.

Not being a camper, I never paid much attention to these campsites. So even though I’ve been up and down this trail several times, I needed to watch for the sign to Siskin. I was a bit surprised to reach the Thunder Lake trail junction having only noticed one campsite, and that wasn’t Siskin. Clearly, I was not paying close enough attention, so I turned around and headed back. I didn’t want to go too far, so I decided to just head uphill and use the map to find my way.

Bushwhacking here isn’t that difficult. The slope wasn’t terribly steep, and there wasn’t that much deadfall to deal with. Before long, I had gained quite a bit of elevation. Being in a forest, though, I didn’t have a clear view of any landmarks. I don’t carry GPS so I wasn’t sure where I was in relation to the lakes. At one point I decided I had climbed higher than the lakes, so I zig zagged down a bit. I even thought I saw water once but was mistaken. Next I felt I’d descended too far, so I zig zagged up a bit.

By 12:15 I found myself on a pile of large boulders sitting in the sun with a nice view of the valleys to the west. I decided it was a pleasant enough place to have my lunch and watch the world go by. I set up the SLR for a time lapse ate my sandwich. It only took a few minutes for the battery to discharge completely. Clearly, I’ll need to get the battery grip for the camera if I’m going to get serious with it.

After lunch, I set off in search of the lakes again. I had decided that I was, indeed, a couple of hundred feet too high. So I zig zagged down the slope. It wasn’t long before I had gone down too far and still no sign of the lake. I headed more or less due west intending to meed the Thunder Lake trail to complete my planned loop. The forest floor here was fairly flat and walking was very easy. After a few minutes of walking through this flat area I came across a campsite. I guessed it was Siskin, but saw no signs. Clearly, I wouldn’t find Twin Lakes today. For the rest of the afternoon, U2’s I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For kept bouncing around my brain.

Not long after reaching the campsite, I found a trail. I wasn’t sure whether it was the shortcut or the main trail, so I kept going west. When I found a pile of horse dung I knew I was on the main trail, as no livestock is allowed on the shortcut. Except llamas, and I doubted llama dung looked like horse dung. So I turned around. A few hundred yards down the trail I found a sign for the Siskin campsite. Had I known it wasn’t on the shortcut but on the Thunder Lake trail, I have no doubt I’d have found the lakes. I was probably just a few yards east of them at some point.

I hadn’t encountered other hikers since I left the trailhead. From Ouzel Falls back to the trailhead, the trail was much more crowded as expected. Not as crowded as a mid-summer day, but I didn’t go more than five minutes without running into somebody.

At Ouzel Falls I set up both cameras for time lapses. This was an experiment – I didn’t really know what to expect. In the end, though, none of the time lapse footage was worthwhile. The wind moved the tripod during the first SLR segment and I didn’t deal with the lighting at the falls properly.

The weather was quite nice – sunny and warm with a few clouds scattered here and there. It was a bit windy; the pines didn’t so much “whisper” as mildly roar, but on the forest floor the wind was never much of an issue.

Timetable

Trailhead 10:20 AM
Campsite Shortcut 10:50 AM
Leave trail 11:35 AM
Return to trail 01:20 PM
Ouzel Falls 01:50 PM
Calypso Cascades 02:40 PM
Trailhead 03:15 PM