96 HOURS
I
woke late that night. I immediately
realized that something was wrong. It
was too quiet. And too
dark. I fumbled around for my
headlamp. I shined my light on the roof
of the tent. It seemed more opaque than
normal. I smacked the roof with my hand,
and a huge clump of wet snow slid to the ground.
I
unzipped the tent and peered out. The
ground was covered with snow, and fat, wet flakes were falling. I knocked more of the snow off my tent before
zipping it up and scurrying back into my sleeping bag.
The
call of nature woke me at first light. I
put on several layers of clothes before beating the newly fallen snow off the
roof of my tent. I slipped out into a
winter wonderland. Everything was
covered in fresh snow.
I
hurried up the hill in search of a suitable spot for my morning
devotional. I found an adequate place
under a spruce grove, the branches laden with heavy snow. On my way back to camp, the view unfolding
below stopped me in my tracks. It was
truly one of the most breathtaking sights I’ve ever seen. I was looking down the Rock Creek valley – a
classic glacial valley, with rugged peaks on either side. The meadows and spruce groves were blanketed
with snow. A wall of fog was rolling up
the valley towards me, but it didn’t block my view of the massive peaks in the
distance. Best of all, the rising sun
was creating spectacular alpenglow on Peters Peak and the unnamed mountains
farther down the valley.
I
raced back to my tent for my camera, hollering at the Bobs to wake up before
they missed the show. I returned with my
camera just in time to capture the scene:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/9067009@N03/8154616107/in/set-72157632410472355
The
alpenglow faded a couple of minutes later.
Shortly after, the wall of fog arrived, enveloping us in our campsite.
Most
mornings we started with cold granola cereal.
On this day I indulged in warm oatmeal and hot coffee. If there was ever a morning for coffee, this
was it.
After
breakfast I took a short walk up to Rock Lake.
Everything was quiet and still.
The spruce trees were draped with snow, and the surrounding peaks
drifted in and out of the fog. Rock Lake
is lovely, as it sits right at the base of an impressive rock wall below Mount Oso.
I
was getting chilled, so I hustled back to camp.
We hit the trail and headed down the valley. Initially we passed through a dark, snowy
spruce forest. Before long we dropped
below the snow line and found ourselves in a vast meadow. Rugged, unnamed peaks towered above us. This valley reminded me a bit of the Tuolumne
River valley in Yosemite National Park – vast meadows and evergreen groves
sprawling below rocky summits. Ahead,
the soaring peaks of The Guardian and Mount Silex
drifted in and out of the fog.
We
eventually reached the far end of the meadow.
After a final parting glance up the valley towards Rock Lake, we began a
long descent in the woods. Before long
it started to rain. Once again, it was
well before noon. Despite the rain, it
was a lovely hike. Occasional views
opened to the surrounding hillsides, which featured shimmering gold fall
foliage. Farther down we hiked above
Rock Creek, its many rapids and cascades providing a nice distraction from the
cold rain.
The
rain stopped just before we reached the junction with the Vallecito
Creek Trail. Since it was mid-day we
took advantage of the opportunity to eat lunch.
There were actually a couple of tents at a campsite here, but we didn’t
see anyone around. We were getting used
to that concept – we hadn’t seen a single person since Friday afternoon, four
days earlier.
We
resumed the hike with a tricky rock hop crossing of Rock Creek. The rocks were slippery, but we crossed
without incident. Oddly, we noticed that
all of the rocks along lower Rock Creek were stained red. Earlier in the trip, we noticed that all of
the rocks along upper Elk Creek were stained white. I’m guessing the discoloration is either due
to minerals in the soil or runoff from old mines (or both).
From
there we hiked through woods and meadows, following Vallecito
Creek downstream. The rain returned
periodically, occasionally with rumbles of thunder and flashes of
lightning. Oddly, the hostile weather
didn’t bother me. If anything, it made
the hike even more beautiful. The
surrounding mountains frequently emerged from the clouds, making them seem even
more dramatic. The weather made the fall
foliage even more spectacular, too. The
colors were at their absolute peak in the Vallecito
Creek valley. It may have been the best
color of the trip.
At
one point we passed above another sprawling meadow surrounded by dramatic
peaks. It was a wet meadow, and it
smelled of sulphur.
I’m guessing that there are hot springs here,
though I didn’t actually see them.
We
ran into two other hikers and a dog later that afternoon. They were a couple from Montana doing a
similar trip. Astonishingly, they were
the first people we encountered in 96 hours.
That’s the longest I’ve gone on a backpacking trip without seeing
another soul. Even in Alaska we ran into
a few people.
We
reached Roelle Creek a few minutes later. The bridge had washed out, so we were forced
to rock hop. This one was slippery,
too. J Bob dunked a boot, so I crossed
on equally slippery logs.
We
continued down the valley. The rain
became more intermittent, and the photo ops more frequent. I was taking so many photos, I wasn’t sure if
I’d ever finish the hike. Truthfully, I
didn’t really care. This was one of the
most beautiful hikes of my life, and I was savoring every minute of it.
Eventually
we found ourselves across from Johnson Canyon.
The views up the canyon to the snow-covered peaks surrounding Columbine
Pass were even more dramatic. The
appearance of Johnson Canyon also meant that we were nearing our destination
for the evening. A few minutes later we
reached a junction with the Johnson Canyon Trail. We followed it down to a
sturdy bridge over Vallecito Creek. On the far side we found a vast array of
camping options. We took a site a short
distance upstream. It was partially
wooded, but on the edge of a meadow that provided a great view of Thunder
Mountain, Echo Mountain, Organ Mountain, and Amherst Mountain. It was a fitting end to a magical day on the
trail.
Despite
the late start and a long hike (~12 miles) we had plenty of time to relax
around camp that evening. We headed to
bed early though, as it was still a rather chilly, damp evening.
Back to Colorado
Back to Hiking and Backpacking Trip Reports
Please remember to Leave No Trace!