SKY MAUL

Two additional choice job assignments came my way recently, giving me the opportunity to travel to Denver and Seattle in consecutive weeks. Since we have close friends that live in Seattle, I decided to take a long weekend in between and spend it with them. First though was another opportunity to visit Colorado. My wife and I have taken three trips to Colorado over the years, but we’ve always gone in the summer. March is definitely the off-season there (unless you like to ski), but I was looking forward to checking it out at a different time of year.

I scheduled my job to start on Tuesday, but flew out a day early so I could go hiking. After a bit of internet research, I was pleasantly surprised to discover that there were hiking opportunities in the Colorado Rockies in March. Specifically, I was interested in visiting Rocky Mountain National Park. I had a couple of reasons for this. First, I recently purchased an annual federal recreation pass for $80, and I’d like to get my money’s worth. Also, for one reason or another, over the course of three summer vacations in Colorado, our time in the park has been limited to a single drive through the park on Trail Ridge Road. This was a glaring oversight that I hoped to at least partially correct on this visit.

I almost didn’t make it. I had planned on arriving at the airport 90 minutes prior to departure, as is my usual habit. This always gets me to my gate with enough time leftover for at least a quick breakfast. On good days, I have time to enjoy the breakfast tacos at Chili’s. Monday was not a good day. First, my taxi was 10 minutes late. Then, on the way to the airport, an announcement on the radio stated that due to some problem or another with USAirways (there’s always some problem or another with USAirways), travelers were advised to arrive at least 2 hours early. Well, it was too late for that. At best, I was looking at 80 minutes early, and that’s before we reached the traffic that was backed up a fair distance from the departing flights area. I avoided that mess by having my driver take me to baggage claim, which is only a short escalator ride from the check-in area. That’s one of those little tricks you learn from years of flying.

It didn’t help me that much. The ticketing area was a zoo. Fortunately I wasn’t flying USAir (you don’t know how many times I’ve said that), but inefficiency at the United counter still resulted in a lengthy process checking my luggage. Then I joined the hundreds of other people in the “line” through security. Really, it can hardly be called a line. It was more like a giant herd of sheep. The “line” I was in started at one end of the ticketing area near the Delta counter, ran all the way to the USAirways counters, and doubled-back to security. The other “lines” weren’t any better. Unfortunately, our “line” got horribly tangled with the check-in lines at USAirways, resulting in a mass of confusion. The whole place looked like a Best Buy on the Friday morning after Thanksgiving.

I was a bit agitated. Normally in this situation I’m going to straight to work when I arrive. A delay or missed connection is inconvenient, but I can usually make up for it by working in the hotel in the evening. Today though, I was hoping to go hiking. If I missed my flight, I’d miss my hike. So yeah, I was a bit grumpy.

Somehow, by some miracle, or possibly the efficiency of the TSA (DID I JUST WRITE THAT?), I passed through security exactly when my flight was to begin boarding. I hustled past Chili’s and reached the gate, only to find that boarding had been pushed back due to the security delays. That gave me enough time to visit the facilities and grab a bagel and some juice. By the time I finished that, I returned to the gate, and walked straight onto the plane. The flight was full, so I’m guessing that nobody missed it.

The rest of the flight was uneventful. I landed in Denver, grabbed my luggage and lunch and a rental car, and headed for the mountains. Before reaching the park, I stopped at the Estes Park Mountain Shop to check on conditions. I was planning on heading up to Bear Lake (the road is plowed in the winter) and hiking from there. The staff there was very helpful, and suggested a couple of appealing routes. They also suggested taking snowshoes. They told me that the snow was packed down, and I could probably just walk on top of it, but that I might want the snowshoes just in case. I rented a pair for the exceptionally reasonable price of $5, and headed for the park.

It was a beautiful day for late winter. It was sunny, and temperatures were in the 60’s around Denver. Even at the higher altitudes, temperatures were expected to stay in the 40’s. It probably would’ve been colder hiking at the higher elevations in North Carolina on that particular day.

I parked at the Glacier Gorge trailhead, which is located ½ mile from the end of the road at Bear Lake. I was surprised to find 10 or 15 cars here, which was startling on a Monday mid-March. I hate to think what that area is like in the summer.

I gathered my gear, and hit the snow-covered trail at 1:45. That gave me a little over 5 hours of daylight for my hike. It wasn’t really enough, but it would have to be. I started down the trail, behind two guys with large packs who were planning on several days of backcountry mountain climbing. Who says you can’t fully experience the Colorado Rockies in the winter?

The snow was well-packed, but traction was tricky. I didn’t really want to wear the snowshoes (which were strapped to my pack), so I put on my Yaktrax ice cleats instead. These were ideal for the conditions, as they gave me traction without slowing me down. I headed into the woods, and crossed a bridge over what must’ve been a stream buried under a mountain of snow. In fact, the bridge itself was nearly buried. The only reason I knew I was on a bridge was that the hand rails were just barely poking out of the snow, down at ankle level. Clearly this hike was going to provide me with an unusual perspective. Obviously the snow would be a different experience, but I was also hiking several feet higher than I would’ve been in the summer!

I struggled at first, thanks to being at an elevation over 9000’ after spending the previous night only a few hundred feet above sea level. This was a concern, as flying in from the coast and going straight to an elevation above 8000’ for a day of exercise is generally considered a very bad idea. I knew I was flirting with altitude sickness, but I was curious to see how my body would respond. On our past trips, we had always acclimatized slowly and carefully. This time, I was taking a radically different approach. Well, what was the worst that could happen? Technically, I suppose my lungs could’ve filled with fluid and my brain could’ve exploded. Fortunately, I had good luck. I hiked to above 10,000’, and I never developed so much as a headache (although I certainly was breathing rather hard). I abstained from alcohol the previous day, and was exceptionally well-hydrated before beginning the hike, which may have helped.

My labored breathing actually eased after a time as I got somewhat adjusted to the elevation. At some point, it no longer felt like I was carrying a couch uphill. After a mile or so, I passed a sign (just barely protruding from the snow), that announced that I had reached Alberta Falls. I never would’ve known it if the sign hadn’t been there, as the falls were buried under a pile of snow.

A more demanding climb followed, and at one point I followed some errant tracks off-course. This was a mistake, because the snow was only packed down on the trail. I realized my error quickly, when I plunged through a section of soft snow. This happened several times during the hike, especially late that afternoon when the sun had warmed the snow. Then, some areas even on the trail proved hazardous. There’s nothing like the surprise of striding along, only to have to have the ground itself disappear out from under you. The sensation is not unlike thinking you’re at the bottom of a staircase, when you actually have one more step to go. At this time of year, it’s probably better to hike in the morning, when the snow is firmer. Fortunately, every time I plunged through the surface of the snow, I was able to break my fall with my crotch.

I could’ve avoided this unpleasantness by wearing the snowshoes, but the conditions were mostly good enough that they weren’t necessary. They would’ve been a good idea on my return hike, but by that point, I didn’t want to bother with them.

After climbing past Alberta Falls, I followed a level stretch of trail towards the high peaks of the continental divide. The mountains were gorgeous, covered in deep blankets of snow. The Colorado Rockies are certainly attractive in the summer, but they’re even more awe-inspiring draped in white.

That section of trail actually had a few short stretches without snow. This was actually rather annoying, as the trail was rocky and muddy, and I was forced to take off my Yaktrax. It didn’t last long, as the snow returned as soon as I re-entered the forest. From there, a short hike led to a major junction, and a decision. Originally I had planned on a loop hike over to Dream Lake and Bear Lake. I wanted to see Mills Lake though, as it sits at the mouth of Glacier Gorge, at the base of Longs Peak, the Park’s highest summit (and only 14’er). I decided to take a short side trip up to the lake. From there, I might still have time to complete my loop.

A more demanding ascent followed, highlighted by a short, steep stretch that would’ve been difficult without my ice cleats. Beyond, easy walking led to the shore of the frozen lake. The view here was stunning, as Longs Peak and an assortment of other summits pierced the blue sky. I had a nice break there, and took in the fantastic scenery.

The guy at the gear shop had mentioned that the hike to Black Lake, which is another 2 miles up the gorge, was his favorite winter hike in the Park. It certainly looked appealing from Mills Lake. I checked my watch, and judged that I had just enough time to get there and return before dark. Throwing caution to the wind, I resumed the hike, following the lakeshore. I only went a few steps before plunging crotch-deep into the snow. Apparently, most winter hikers turn around here. There was no packed trail beyond the lower edge of the lake. Actually, there were some tracks out on the lake itself, following close to shore. That may have been a safe route a few weeks earlier, but it didn’t appear to be now. I could see water in a few spots out there.

I put on the snowshoes and started breaking new trail. I made a few false starts though, as it was hard to tell where the trail was supposed to go under all that snow. Even when I thought I was on the correct route, I was moving much slower than my normal hiking pace. It quickly became apparent that at my current pace, I’d never make it to Black Lake and back before dark. I returned to the foot of Mills Lake to reconsider my plans.

I wasn’t certain about the distance over to Dream Lake and Bear Lake from where I was. I didn’t want to push my luck, so I chose to take another side trip, up to Loch Vale. The Loch promised more great scenery, and from there it would be a simple hike out on the same route I’d come in on. I stashed the snowshoes, and headed back down the trail. Before long, I arrived at a major junction. I followed the marked path towards the Loch, and began laboring uphill on the toughest climb of the day. Towards the end the route became steep, and I never would’ve made it to The Loch without my ice cleats. They provided enough traction to get me up the steepest slopes, and before long, I found myself on the frozen shore of The Loch.

I had another great view here, towards the peaks on the continental divide. Also in view were two of the park’s five active glaciers. The Taylor Glacier was visible between Taylor and Powell Peaks, while Andrews Glacier could be seen tumbling down below Otis Peak.

I relaxed by the lake for a few minutes before heading back. Shortly after leaving the lake, I passed two backpackers heading up. They were the first people I’d seen since before reaching Mills Lake. I had seen quite a few people early on, but had hiked in total solitude for the past few hours.

The hike out was relatively uneventful. At one point though, I was startled to see a cloud of mosquitoes hovering near a stream. I couldn’t believe mosquitoes were already out, even though the ground was covered in snow. The rest of the hike was a bit tedious, as the afternoon sun had softened the snow to the point that I occasionally plunged through even the packed trail. It wasn’t bad enough to force me to put on the snowshoes though.

I returned to the car, and after a brief to visit to Bear Lake, I headed back towards Estes Park. On the way, I passed through a huge meadow well below the snowline. It was here that I spotted the elk. At first I saw a handful of them browsing beside the road. Several were crossing, and that’s when I noticed that there were several hundred more in the meadows on the other side. It was easily the most elk I’d ever seen in one place. It was an inspiring sight, with the snow-covered peaks of the continental divide looming in the distance.

I reached Trail Ridge Road, and decided to spend the last few minutes of daylight driving it as far as I could. I headed up the mountain to the winter closure, and enjoyed some fine views along the way. For variety, I returned on the Fall River Road. It was totally dark by the time I reached Estes Park. I returned the rental snowshoes, grabbed some Mexican food for dinner, and headed back to Denver. I enjoyed my visit to Rocky Mountain National Park in the “off-season”. If I get another winter assignment in the area, I’ll definitely be back. In fact, next time I may bring the tent and stay a little longer.

My job went smoothly that week, and I enjoyed the privilege of getting to listen to KBCO (97.3) radio while I was in town. KBCO is one of the few commercial radio stations that is still worth listening to. On my last day there, I caught an interview with the lead singer for Blues Traveler, John Popper. Afterwards, they played their song, “The Mountains Win Again”, which was appropriate, yet slightly cruel. Fortunately, I was headed to Seattle, which is surrounded by some impressive mountains of its own.

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