Rocky Mountain National Park Hiking Log -
September 2001
by Dana Farnsworth
Day 1
After arriving at Denver's Airport in the evening, Kelli and I found our hotel in Denver for the evening.
Day 2
An early wake-up and subsequent breakfast got us on the road heading for Rockies. Actually a short drive of around an hour and a half from Denver, our drive proved to be a little longer due to two facts. One, we needed to get white gas for our stove and everywhere we checked didn't have any or was closed due to our early departure. We ended up "borrowing" some from a friendly salesperson at Coleman store in Loveland. They were actually out of it also, but the salesperson gave us a fill up from their "in-store" can. I'm not sure why there was such a shortage of white gas in the Denver area. The second reason for our delay was due to the impending weather. We had checked the weather forecast the day before and it looked like it might get colder than we had anticipated and possibly snow on our early September adventure. Since we had only packed fleece for our outerwear, we thought that it would be a good idea to pick up a couple of waterproof parkas. We found two very nice ones at a sporting goods store also in Loveland. So, with a stove full of gas and two warm parkas, we had one last stop for some red wine, and we were good to go.
I was particularly excited about using my new REI Half Dome tent for the second time. I'm very happy with its interior room and light pack weight. Unknown to us at the time, its three season rating was in store for a real test. We had planned a two night loop that starts out at the Bear Lake Trailhead, travels counterclockwise to Fern Lake's campsites for the first night, and then continued on to Mill Creek Basin's campsite for our second night and continuing to Bierstadt Lake and out to the trailhead to catch the bus back to our original departure point. A good plan, thanks to the ranger who helped us plan. After obtaining our permit, listening to the rules and driving to the Bear Lake Trailhead, we were itching to get going.
The first thing of note was the Alpine terrain. If you've never been to this area of Colorado, it's difficult to imagine how beautiful the glacier-capped mountains are. After final pack preparations and a "here we are at the start of our hike photo", we were ready to go. We noticed at first that there was a distinct chill in the air, so we were happy the sun was out and was providing some warmth. A ranger in shorts and a tiny daypack soon passed us very quickly, with two hikers trying to keep up with his furious pace in tow. I'm guessing that if you see this scenery everyday, it's possible to understand why one might set a blistering pace. That, or he suffers from Attention Deficit Disorder.
As we steadily climbed we marveled at the incredible vistas. Just south of Odessa Lake, we made a right turn around the edge of a mountain trail, headed north and were surprised to find a blistering cold wind waiting for us on the other side. We quickly donned our fleece layer, snapped a few pictures of Odessa Lake and the surrounding mountains and continued on towards our campsite for the night. On our way we came across a giant bolder field. As we entered I heard "chweeeek, chweeeek, chweeeek". A careful look around revealed what I can best describe as giant big-eared hamsters on steroids, rock hopping around with weeds in their little furry mouths. What we were actually observing were Pika. They are little rodents that harvest foliage during the summer weeks in order to have something to eat during the harsh winter. They weren't too happy we were there, so after a few pictures we moved on.
From our elevated position on the trail, we soon spotted a lovely mountain lake below. Our map identified it as Fern Lake; we were nearing our campsite. As we approached and crossed a small stream that ran off of Fern Lake, we were struck once again by the beauty of this area. We also had a discussion as to where our campsite might be as well as where Ranger Rick, (as we dubbed him) might have disappeared. We hadn't seen him since he blazed passed us in a blur of khaki around mile one.
Finding our campsite proved to be one of the more laborious tasks of the day. There is at least one site near the banks of the lake, but it was occupied. We also could hear the sounds of several other people scouting around for something. A check of our map and a good guess lead us up the side of a small incline in a pine-covered area behind the lake. As we were looking around, we had noticed a very nice log cabin with smoke coming out of the chimney. Ranger Rick's whereabouts and the reason behind his small pack and summer-like attire were pretty clear now. He had a backcountry Hilton at his disposal! Newman!
There were several designated sites in this area. To the park's credit, they did a wonderful job of putting them in places that are well hidden from view of each other. Other than the up-wind group's delicious smelling dinner wafting down to us, we had no real indicators that we were not alone. Our spot was a beautiful site; well maintained as well as very pretty. We took our time setting up camp and preparing our dinner of hot Mediterranean soup with Spanish sausage. The hot soup was very tasty, as the temperature had started to drop. No problem, we donned our new parkas and settled in for a drink of wine and a nice evening. That was about the time a fresh-faced young female ranger stopped by our camp to do a gear check. Hmmmmm. Seems Ranger Rick had company. She wanted to know if we had the proper gear for a cold night. We shrugged it off with a "sure we do, we have warm bags and a decent tent, no worries". It quickly became clear when she asked specifically about the age of our sleeping bags, that this could be serious. She mentioned that the forecast was for two inches of snow at the Visitor's Center, which is at a lower elevation. "Two inches, HAH! Sounds fun to me", I thought to myself.
My next task was to find our bear box at the campsite and stash our food and smelly bits for the evening. The beauty of a wooded campsite can also be a curse when you can't find the bear box. "No problem, I brought along a rope and a couple of cabiners, I can run our food up a tree limb", I remarked smugly and confidently to Kelli. I soon found out that it was easier said than done. In the harsh Rocky Mountain climate, trees tend to grow straight up, not out. A tall tree remarkably has teeny little sticks for branches. Roaming around for a suitable limb turned up only a fallen tree that was lodged between two others. Doing my best cowboy and lariat impression I made several unsuccessful attempts at getting the rope around a high enough spot to work. Finally the rope made it over, but didn't slide down the other side. My testosterone-fueled display was fast becoming feeble. After several attempts to coerce the rope, I gave up and tried to pull it back down. No dice. It became lodged on a limb and wasn't coming down. I entertained the thought of climbing up the tree to free it, but my fear of falling reminded me that I probably would fall trying. Scratch that idea, back to pulling on the rope; I tugged and pulled with the fever of giant 6' 3", 200 lb. trout that had been landed. I pulled even harder as my temper rose and my vocabulary became acceptable only for cable TV. As it started to give way, very rapidly I might add, I noticed that I wasn't exactly standing in an ideal spot. "WHHAAAAAPPPPPPPP" went the speeding, airborne metal cabiner into my shoulder blade as I turned and ducked in a failed attempt to make it pass harmlessly by. This embarrassingly painful wound did little to quell my growing frustration. At this point I notice that my wife had quietly slipped away and removed herself from the situation. I finally found a less than perfect branch and strung our backcountry bear piñata up in a rather half-ass manner. Anything was better than nothing at this point.
I returned to our camp with a sore shoulder and bruised ego. At least I can laugh at myself! After that ordeal, I just wanted to lie down and relax. After an attempt to stargaze that was thwarted by clouds that quickly moved in, we decided to call it a night and hop into our tent. The clouds that kept us from viewing the heavens soon proved to be an ominous warning sign. We heard the sound of frozen bits falling onto the top of our tent the exact second that we finished zipping it up and crawling into our bags.
Day 3:
The following is my overnight diary:
3:00 AM: Woke up and pushed what felt like much more than two inches of snow off of the top of our tent. "Man, didn't know it was going to snow this much". Back to sleep, no worries
5:00 AM: Woke up, gotta pee. "Man is it cold" I thought to myself. I pushed another sizable amount of snow off of the top of our tent. "Shit, it's really snowing", were my quiet thoughts. Back to sleep, nothing much to worry about.
7:00 AM: Really need to relieve the bladder. "Zippppppppp" went the tent door; "Zippppppp" went the vestibule. If anyone was watching from the outside as I slowly poked my head out of the partially opened vestibule, I'm sure that it must have looked like the tent was giving birth. Let's say that like a baby being born into a new world, I wasn't exactly prepared for what I saw either
I didn't even recognize the campsite. There was at least eight inches of wet snow everywhere, and it was still falling vigorously. I think I muttered, "Holly SHIT Kelli, you won't believe this". I tucked my head back inside the tent, put my boots on and started formulating a plan. I knew the following things:
1. We were at 10,000 feet above sea level; the forecast was for around two inches of snow at lower elevations.
2. There was, at a minimum, eight inches of snow and still falling.
3. Our tent was really soaked from the wet heavy snow.
4. We were pretty freaked out.
Considering these facts, we felt it best to pack up and head to the nearest trailhead. We geared up, jumped out of tent and ate a Power Bar as I took the tent apart and jammed it into a garbage bag. My fingers were frozen, the tent was wet and I didn't have the patience to fold it up and put it in its stuff sack. I thought to myself that my mildly obsessive-compulsive friend Jeff would wig out at the disorganization of my tent packing, but then again, he wasn't here.
I found the tree I had strung the food bag on, got it down and finished my hasty packing. As we exited our campsite and tried to find the trail, I noticed of all things, the damn bear boxes! The snow had flattened all of the brush and weighed down all of the tree limbs revealing the elusive metal ammo boxes on a post, not 20 yards from our tent site. Damn! If only I had seen them the prior evening, my shoulder would still be functional.
We began breaking a trail and had traveled a short distance when we came upon another couple that also had camped at the Fern Lake site. They had the same idea that we did; get to the first trailhead we could. Finding the trail at times was difficult enough, without worrying about finding a connecting trail that we were unfamiliar with.
I can't tell you how happy we were to have had the foresight to purchase the nice waterproof well-made parkas that were now keeping us warm and dry. We took turns with the other couple breaking the trail. They would do it for a while and then we would give them a break and do it for a while. The initial shock of all that snow coupled with darkness in a remote location was beginning to wear off and we found that we were actually enjoying ourselves. It certainly was a memorable experience.
We aborted our plan of spending another night in the back-country, due to our wet tent and decided to take Fern Lake Trail to it's end at the northern trailhead. As we descended back down into the valley, the snow that was covering the still-green aspen trees had begun to melt. As we looked back up to the peaks that marked our previous elevation, we could see that it was still snowing. Along the way several older fellows passed us in very wet blue jeans and canvas hiking shoes. These seemingly unprepared hikers were our camping neighbors. Their site was the one up wind from ours; they were the ones who we could smell cooking the previous evening.
As we neared the trailhead, we began seeing more day hikers. One nice woman informed us that there was a family of Elk around the corner from us. As we quietly approached the area, we spotted at least two adult female elk and a baby. A very exciting site!
When we made it to the trailhead and walked the short distance on a dirt road to where the shuttle bus could pick us up. Feeling like we really had done something pretty cool, we entered the bus with a sense of accomplishment in our step. We were greeted with many stares and questions from the less adventurous day hikers who were getting ready to go on their own foray into the now melting snow.
We substituted our second night of camping with a night at the Lazy R Cottages. Our cottage was around $95 for the night. Seems like a lot of money, but when I factored in the location (practically right in front of the park) and the fact that we had no reservations anywhere and most places were full, we chose the Lazy R. Our cottage was older, but warm and clean. Being the cottage at the end of the road meant that we were higher up than other cottages and could enjoy an unobstructed view of the mountains in RMNP from our living room window. Pretty cool. We hung our tent up to dry, took a shower, put on some warm clothes and went out to enjoy the quaint charm of Estes Park.
Day 4
The weather had cleared and we were itching to see the parts of our planned route that we had missed. So after a sight seeing drive that was highlighted with the spotting of elk, coyote and incredible vistas, we donned our day hiking gear and tackled Bierstadt Lake Trail. From the trailhead off Bear Lake Road it would be approximately five or six miles round trip to Bierstadt Lake; a nice distance for a quick hike. As we wound our way up the many switchbacks, we were treated to some of the most incredible scenery to date. The new fallen snow on the mountains with the bright blue sky above was breathtaking. I joked around that I felt like I was an extra in "The Sound of Music". I qualified my remark with the demand that if I were in the movie, I WOULD NOT wear Lederhosen!
When we reached Bierstadt Lake, we were pleased to see a beautiful lake, surrounded with snow-capped mountains. The lake had two very confused residents. Two ducks that by all accounts should have been south were failing in their attempt to walk in the snow and were falling around in the drifts like two drunks.
After we hiked back and reached our car, we started our drive back to Denver for our flight home. This would be the end of our story had I not wanted to visit the REI store in Denver. Like kids in a candy store, we loved it so much and had so much fun; we stayed too long and missed our flight home.
