Colorado
Rocky Mountain National Park
and the Pawnee National Grasslands
July 16-21, 2011
Daily
Reports
Days 1-2: Juneau - the Rockies; riding into Wild Basin (RMNP) Day 3: Thunder Lake: hiking to the continental divide Day 4: Exploring and riding out of Wild Basin; driving to the RMNP alpine Day 5: Exploring and camping in the Pawnee National Grasslands Day 6: Hiking to the Pawnee Buttes and home |
 Rest stop on the way to Thunder Lake |
When we awoke, the day was
sunny and
pleasant. We drank cafe francais at breakfast and enjoyed the
company of
the resident squirrels. The bigger, grayer squirrels that
otherwise
reminded us of our red squirrels back home turned out to be, in fact,
pine
squirrels according to our mammal guide, which is just another common
name for
red squirrels. Apparently there are three varieties in North
America but
I haven't yet determined which variety lives in Southeast Alaska or
whether
it's the same type that lives in the Rockies. More exciting (no
offense
to the red squirrel) was the smaller, striped squirrel that cruised
around the
area eating bits of false box that grew in clusters on the forest
floor.
We
inspected them, but never found anything more tantalizing than its
normal
green growth, which is apparently delicious. My mother
immediately
identified this squirrel as a golden-mantled ground squirrel, though he
was
much grayer than the ones in her home town of Flagstaff (only faintly
golden
colored). As soon as we started munching, he boldly came over to
us and
sniffed around looking for tidbits. Feeding wildlife in the park
is
strictly forbidden, so how that peanut found its way onto my shoe I
can't
imagine!
After breakfast we decided
to go for a
little hike before tearing down our tent and moving to our second camp
site. We traveled light--each with camera, binoculars, and one
granola
bar. The trail was beautiful, rocky and dry and sun-dappled and
started
out winding along the side of a mountain (the opposite side than we'd
traveled
on the day before, so I think we'd entered a valley at the back of the
Wild
Basin area). I wish my photos even began to do it justice.
Not far
from camp the path opened up on the left to a smooth rocky outcropping
with a
stunning view of the valley and the surrounding mountains. We
felt
surprisingly energetic after our exhaustion of the day before, and so
continued
on the gradual climb, stopping for birds when we spotted them. We
spent
some time watching a gorgeous male yellow-rumped warbler (of the
yellow-throated variety) singing away as he bopped through a pine
tree.
We were feeling so good that we just kept going, turning to the right
and away
from the broader valley until we came across the first snow drift and
knew we
were approaching Thunder Lake. The frequent drifts along the
trail were
easy to traverse, but some of them would have been tricky for the
horses (I'm
sure they would have post-poled through some of them that they couldn't
avoid). Most of the ground was snow-free, however, and the
groundcover
was greening up, sporadic flowers blooming here and there. The
forest
opened up into soggy meadows with meandering sloughs and we followed a
chipping
noise off the trail to a three-toed woodpecker working away at a dead
tree.. Yellow orchids, star flowers, and marsh marigold-type
flowers
caught our eye. Finally we passed the junction to the regular
camp sites,
then the stock site where we were meant to camp (snow free,
incidentally), and
from there we descended into the Thunder Lake basin. The meadow
we
emerged into was still entirely covered with snow, and the view to the
lake and
the surrounding mountains was stunning. Several people were there
along
the edge of the lake, some fishing. We decided to explore a
little and
headed to the right along the edge of the lake, much of the area
beneath snow
drifts. As we curved our way around the back of the lake, the
snow
diminished and we picked our way through the marshy ground on and off
the trail
until we reached the back corner of the lake at the foot of a talus
slope (we
learned later that this slope led right up to the continental
divide).
Large rocks littered the ground, one of which we'd had in mind for a
rest spot
from a distance; a marmot whistled and we soon spotted him crouched at
the top
of a sharp rock protruding from the snow a little farther up the
slope.
It was a stunning spot. The lake was gorgeous, rimmed with steep,
picturesque slopes standing out against an azure sky. Dramatic
thunderheads built up behind the mountains back down the trail.
We sat on
our yellow and lime green lichened rock spying on the reddish-brown
colored yellow-bellied
marmot, taking photos, and gazing up the mountainsides.
 Golden-mantled ground squirrel eating false box |
 Getting breakfast ready |
 The bear canister |
 Lighting my new stove |
 Camp in the morning |
 The rocky trail |
 Boulder landscapet |
 View along the trail |
 Flowers |
 A rare spot where people moved the large rocks |
 Cool light/dark shot |
 Cool tree shadow boulder shot |
 Snow patches in the trail |
 Colorado blue sky |
 Flower |
 Marshy meadows around Thunder Lake (Mom's photo) |
 Three-toed woodpecker |
 Flowers (Mom's photo) |
 Delicious tree |
 View approaching Thunder Lake |
 Flower (Mom's photo) |
Eventually we picked
our way back across the meadow and along the lake on our way
down. It was
tempting to try for the pass (which was our original intent had we
camped
there), but the route was snowed in and we needed to pack up and move
camp. As we walked I daydreamed about happening upon the
fishermen we'd
seen earlier just as they brought in a native cutthroat and asking to
take a
look (I'm fond of cutthroats). While thinking about this, the
path we
were on dropped to the edge of the lake where I gazed down into the
clear, slightly amber
water and saw....a fish! And then another
fish!
Several gorgeous trout were hanging around the branches of a sunken
tree and
then cruising
into shore just beneath the surface only a few feet
away.
We could see
them extremely well through the clear water and, if we
were still,
they were unconcerned by us. We saw as 
many as five at
once! All
were heavily spotted, some with deep red color on and around their gill
coverings and down their sides. One appeared to have some red
gill
exposed (possibly due to an injury); I got several photos of this one
and some
of the others. They were gorgeous gorgeous fish and I wanted them
to be
cutthroats. When we passed by the ranger cabin a few minutes
later the
fishermen were having lunch, so I asked them about the fish in the
lake.
They told me it was all catch and release and that the lake was
inhabited by
native greenback cutthroat, rainbow trout, and the hybrid
cutbows. They
said the greenbacks were very red underneath, so I'm not sure we saw
one, but I
like to think at least one of our fish was a cutthroat! It turns
out the
greenback cutthroat had been nearly extirpated, but efforts are
underway to
revive them. Fish watching from shore was one of the wildlife
highlights
of the trip! I regretted mentioning our observation to the
fishermen, for
fear they would go and harass our fish friends.
From
there my mother and I hustled leisurely down the trail, inspired
by hunger
and the need to pack our gear and find our way to the next
campsite. We
ate snow to quench our thirst and hunger while it lasted. While
we were
still among the snow drifts and near the lake we heard a raucous call
that
reminded us of a hawk or falcon and scanned the area for some sign of
it.
But, the tall trees blocked our view and we'd just given up when we
made a turn
in the trail and spotted the bird at the top of a dead tree about 50
yards down
the trail. We trained our binoculars on him and discovered a
stunning
black, gray, and white bird. The white tail feathers flashed
dramatically
as he called from his branch--a Clarke's nutcracker! This fellow
was independently
on both of our lists of hoped for bird sightings while in the Rockies.
The rest of the hike was perfect, the temperature idyllic, the sun
dappling the
picturesque high country trail. We later read a report of this
portion of
the trail as "monotonous" but it couldn't have been more beautiful
and I took a ridiculous number of photos to prove it. We did
hustle down
the last part, though, to accommodate our stomachs, and happily
picnicked on
the big rock near our tent around 2:00. My mother was impressed
with the
dark-eyed juncos that visited the campsite, the same species but
strikingly
different than the ones back home, sporting reddish-brown backs.
I was
pleased that that night's human occupants of Siskin hadn't yet arrived
and that
our clothes were dry (we'd boldly hung them back up while we
hiked). We
packed our gear up as densely as we could for the hike down.
Neither of
us had packed thinking that we'd carry our gear any distance, and it's
a good
thing that we brought backpacks at all. We managed to fit
everything into
our big backs (including our day packs), but the bear canister wouldn't
fit
inside. My mother put it in a spare mesh bag and I tied it onto
the back
of her backpack as well as I could.
And so we
started down the trail,
1.6 miles to Pine Ridge. As
soon as we
passed the junction .1 miles along (taking the route we hadn't traveled
the day
before), we discovered why that part of the trail was closed to stock
(except
lamas). Or at least we guessed that the narrow, extremely rocky
and steep
trail would be too hard on large animals.
It was hard on
us. I'd
originally thought that the stock restriction was to accommodate
pedestrians,
but now I realize that it is simply 
an "unimproved trail." We
started by descending through a rocky, meadowy area that was stunningly
beautiful, a place I thought I'd like to return to explore another
time.
I discovered a little snake there that allowed me a nice look and a
photo. From there the trail descended into pine and fir forests,
which
became increasingly interspersed with aspen. I found it really
interesting to see the change in tree species as we went from Thunder
Lake down
nearly 2,000 feet to the floor of Wild Basin over the course of the
day.
Not far from our destination we passed through some really gorgeous,
lush
meadows between the trail and the edge of some rocky bluffs that begged
to be clambered
on and explored. But that would have to wait for another
day! My
mother and I were pretty exhausted from lugging our gear down the rocky
trail
(after hiking 6.8 miles at altitude already), and my mother was
especially
heroic for carrying the food (she stubbornly refused to give it up, but
wound
up carrying it under her arm to prevent it from swinging around
on her
back). At last I came across a sign post, but it turned out to be
for the
other end of the trail junction and not for our campsite.
Thankfully,
about 100 feet down from there I found the sign for Pine Ridge and
teased my
mother by surreptitiously leaning against it to block it from her view
when she
showed up, pretending that I was discouraged we hadn't found it
yet. We
then trudged up the trail, found where another party had camped
already, then
discovered the second of the two sites a good 50 yards away on another
level,
which may as well have been the only site there. The Park Service
does an
amazing job of splitting up the campsites (if there are multiple to a
site) so
you get a wilderness experience and placing them just far enough from
the main
trail. Pine Ridge was even lovelier than Siskin. A wide,
level area
between rocks and pine trees probably could have housed half a dozen
tents or
more. We dropped our gear, set up the tent, and wandered down to
the main
trail and up to North St. Vrain Creek to freshen up and filter
water.
Then we relaxed for a bit, observing more gray-headed juncos, Steller's
jays,
and, one of my favorite bird sightings of the whole trip, the large and
striking mountain chickadee with his bold voice.
After recovering a bit, we wandered back down to the main
trail and
toward the
Wild Basin trailhead. By now we'd started scheming about how to
avoid the
arduous climb back up the way we'd come in order to meet Cody the
following
morning. When we told him we'd meet him up at the higher
junction,, we
didn't know that the 1.5 miles between was so tough or at such a
grade. My
mother suggested that we go up the other (improved) trail and hope to
run into
Cody before he made it to the junction. I was initially quite
wary of
this, as I thought it wisest to stick to the plan. In the
meantime, we
walked down the trail looking for the burned area we'd passed through
on horseback
the day before. The trail description I'd read said it was not
far along
the trail and we were only 1.6 miles in from the trailhead at that
point.
We could see burns on the mountainside above the trail, but it had
apparently
not crossed North St. Vrain Creek; we verified with some hikers who
were headed
out that there was no burn area between us and the trailhead. It
was all
so puzzling.... Finally, back at the camp site, it all came
together as
we reread the trail description I'd printed off. The missing link
was
that there were multiple trailheads! I'd tried to understand
everything
from the perspective of the Wild Basin trailhead, which is what
everyone writes
about when accessing Thunder Lake, and which is where the rangers tell
you to
go. We hadn't just used a side trail to get to the Wild Basin
trail, we'd
come in on an entirely separate trailhead--the Allenspark Trailhead,
which adds
considerable distance to the trail and doesn't merge with the Wild
Basin trail
under Calypso Falls, which is beyond Pine Ridge. Calypso Falls is
between
two different burn zones, which explains why we could look up at a burn
site on
the mountains above the nearby trail (but which doesn't intersect it)
and also
meet up with a later burn site on the same trail. Basically, the
Allenspark trailhead takes you along the side of the mountain on the
south side
of Wild Basin, meeting up with the main trail where it climbs from the
valley
floor to Calypso Falls. Anyway, once we figured this out, we
agreed to
change plans. Assuming that Cody would be coming from the
Allenspark
Trailhead, we'd make the climb to Calypso Falls (one third the distance
and the
elevation gain) early in the morning, then leave him a note with our
packs and
hang out in the burned area to hike around and check out the
wildflowers.
It was a good plan. If that's all very confusing, don't worry
about
it--it was confusing to me! Because I expected to be hiking in
the
Thunder Lake area, I hadn't memorized much about the rest of the trail.
That evening we ate wild rice and pilaf for dinner with raspberry
crumble for
dessert and red wine. In lieu of a fire, we burnt a couple of
candles. The day had been so fine I thought about not putting up
the rain
fly at all until my mom reminded me about dew (from what little I
knew of
thunderstorms, I thought they happened as the heat rose in the middle
of the
day, and theorized that it was too late for one to build up). It
was a
good thing I took her advice! Not long after we retired a
thunderstorm
moved in and we soon had rain--and lightening and thunder! Shows
what I
know about thunderstorms I guess. We were both pretty exhausted,
but the
flashes of lightning (enough to illuminate the whole tent for a moment)
and the
close thunder kept us awake perhaps an hour longer than we would have
been. So far the thunderstorms had been far more erratic than the
daily
~2-3:00 afternoon phenomena I'd been told about.
 Rocky trail |
 Getting into aspen meadows |
 North St. Vrain Creek below camp |
 The burn on the other side of the creek |
 Pine Ridge camp (Mom's photo) |
 Dinner |
