I awoke to a chilly 39 degree morning and could barely wait to get into my hot cup of S’Buck’s Via. After a very efficient break down of camp we headed on up towards Independence Pass and had planned one more hike before we left the area. The Linkens Lake Trail was our choice as it would be mostly above tree line with about 500 feet of elevation. It was a true gem. It was a steep short rocky hike of 1.7 miles and the 360 degrees views were stunning. It starts by Roaring Fork River and enters the Hunter-Fryingpan Wilderness Area (like that name) before ascending on a non-technical but an aggressive incline. Wildflowers, waterfalls, along the way and Lake Linkens at the end are beautiful.

Linkins Lake (elevation 12,008’) is what is called an alpine tarn. Jewel green in color and crystal clear, it is surrounded by fragile wildflowers, grasses, and lichen. The ground around was quite spongy so we treaded carefully and lightly. Being above tree line the view is of windswept expanses of mountain faces bordering the Continental Divide.

This, followed by the spectacular drive along the 12,005-foot Independence Pass, was a grande finale for our days of hiking. Enroute to Boulder and Longmont we took the scenic Peak to Peak Highway and were marveling at the rich beauty and ruggedness of the area when we rounded a corner and were thrust into the high stakes towns of Central City and Black Hawk. These two towns are in Clear Creek Canyon and are extensive gaming venues with rows of bustling casinos lining the road through this relatively narrow canyon. Just as quickly we were out of the casino row and back into undeveloped Rocky Mountain terrain. The week-end was quite a change of pace: real beds with clean sheets, a shower, carry-out meals, a time for regrouping, laundry, visiting with Amara’s Aunt Amy, a lovely walk up in the mountains though a relatively new growth forest, Sunday brunch, getting caught up on email. and beginning to formulate a travel plan for the rest of the drive west to Oregon. We headed to the LaQuinta by Denver Airport in the late afternoon for Tasia’s and Amara’s early Monday morning departure.

We awoke to a blue sky spotted with wispy cottony cumulus cloud puffs which may well have portended the massive dense bulging mounds and towers of the cumulonimbus thunderstorm clouds of the afternoon. Given our disappointment of having to opt out of the Four Pass Loop Hike, we chose a day hike up to Crater Lake, a portion of the first section (or last depending in whether one chooses to hike clockwise to counterclockwise) of the trail leading up to Maroon Pass. I am very glad we did it but still disappointed that it was not feasible for us at this time. This area outside of Aspen has been so popular over the years that vehicle restrictions were implemented so we, gladly as well as by necessity took the Maroon Bells Bus Tour to Maroon Lake (9580’). This is definitely advantageous for the environment but the driver/guide also provided us with significant information about the area.

The Crater Lake trail (3.6 round trip) is a steep and especially towards the end, a very rocky pathway, as one is climbing an ancient rockslide the created Crater Lake. Given the accessibility of the trail, the solitude that I seek that often accompanies hiking was difficult to achieve. But I am always so happy to see families especially out hiking with their children, that acceptance of what is the NOW brings satisfaction in a different way. The trail was boulder strewn and rough going. Kili was not very happy about this hike and he kept looking back and trying to go back. It became a drag the dog up the trail event. The heavy and dense storm clouds had rolled in and the cool drizzle began about three quarters of the way up. The drizzle increased its intensity and I finally caught up with Tasia and Amara who were, yet again, crouched under their ponchos in the woods.

We opted to have lunch after we hike out so I began to head back down while Tasia and Amara did a bit more exploring before they headed out. Kili was like a new “man.” He was staining at the leash and it was smooth sailing. The most fascinating person I saw on the trail was a young woman in 4-5 inch platform sandals carry a shopping bag with a bottle of wine to enjoy at the lake. I cannot even imagine her making it up and then back without a broken ankle or leg. I was being so cautious with every step, especially with the wet rocks and mud. Lunch was sitting on the shores of lovely Maroon Lake, enjoying the wildflowers and mirror images on the lake.

Back in town with a cell signal we made only the necessary texts and phone calls and were back through substantial rain to Lost Mans Camp. By some miracle just a bit short of the camp it was not raining. However a very damp chill 50 degrees was not conducive to sitting around outside (as if the tents weren’t the outside). Being impatient, we ate our bags of crispy noodles and back beans and rice, and were in the tents by eight. That way we did not have to deal with rain or flies and mosquitos if the presented themselves. There was a bit of sadness on my part because this was to be the last camping night with Tasia and Amara as we would be heading into Boulder and Longmont for the week-end to spend some time with Amara’s Aunt Amy (her father Stephen’s sister) and be in motels. Then it would be off to Denver Airport on Monday morning for Tasia and Amara’s return flights to Oregon.

A great way to wake up in the morning, even more bracing than a strong cup of coffee, was a cleansing of the lower body in Prince Creek. It was just the right depth to sit in BRIEFLY! I was going on the assumption that the frigid water would paralyze any of the bacterial culprits causing body odors and they would just fall off and no longer be able to hang out and create odor. So I then numbly ate my oatmeal and we broke camp. We got the backpacks ready for an overnight out-and-back to Thomas Lakes which is situated in the Maroon Bells-Snowmass Wilderness in the Elk Range. We had chosen it given it was short very doable distance of 2.3 miles. Now this may seem almost laughable to a long distance thru hiker but given we were hiking with a sick dog, at times needing to be carried, my altitude sickness kicking inn, and Amara’s altitude headaches etc. it seems like a very viable choice for this trekking crew. It had only about 1600 feet of elevation, starting at 8600’ and campsites at around 10, 284’. Now I am beginning to realize that initial descriptions of trails are by no means on target. I have yet to do a hike where the mileage is right on its stated distance. The description stated this trail was 2.3 miles BUT my Garmin read 4.1 at our destination. We discovered that often the trailhead is NOT where one starts hiking a specific trail, but up where perhaps your destination branches of from another trail, at which point you are starting at 0. The same thing occurred on the Oh Be Joyful trek where we clocked in at 7.25 miles but according to the trail guide we would have been at Blue Lake (which we never got to) at 6.5. But I digress.
Needless to say our anticipation of a relatively easy to moderate hike did not exactly bear true. The altitude again was knocking the wind out of me. It felt somewhat akin to a moderate hangover, which is a bummer because my drinking days are long gone and I did all the right things to get ready for this trip. The trail itself was a moderate grade and relatively easy to negotiate initially. It ascended through a forest of aspen and oak and there were excellent views of the Elk Mountains in the distance. It slowly climbed, with expansive views of pastures and extensive fields and slopes of wildflowers and views of the Roaring Fork Valley. It was breathtaking. I was very happy taking my time one small step after the other and then a pause to drink in the scenery and of course take more than a few pictures.

 

The build up of the thunder heads was early this day as we had good views of Mount Sopris which was now draped in ominous black thunder storm clouds. We had put the rain covers on our packs at the start thank goodness. At about the point I thought we were almost there (still unaware that the distances didn’t start until we 1.8 miles in) it began to rain, and then continued to rain harder and harder. So we hauled out the rain ponchos and hunkered down in the woods perched on some boulders. I managed to get Kilt onto my lap under the poncho, a very challenging task given he had no clue as to what I was attempting to do and seemed to be fighting even though he was already quite rain-soaked. Simba looked like a very large drowned rat. It finally let up after about 15 minutes and we meandered on with the sun coming out intermittently.

 

We continued through groves of aspen and evergreen interspersed with meadows. The wildflowers continued to be prodigious and stunning so we spent a lot of time viewing and photographing them.Soon the trail became noticeably rockier and now was a rocky, rubbly high county trail of broken rock debris, more forested with fewer vistas. I can only think of the term talus to describe the path. It’s seemed that all the talus that has broken off of the mountains and adjacent cliffs was piled up to make the trail difficult, though most likely this was a naturally occurring process. The pieces of talus were of all sizes from tiny to huge boulders, or anywhere in between. I wasn’t scrambling or boulder hopping (would that I could) but was picking my way over the rocks to find firm footing, as some rocks would be loosely planted. I knew it would be easy to miss a step or twist an ankle or worse. It required a lot of focus in the midst of huffing and puffing. It was slow slow going and the distance of a mile felt like two or three.

We passed the first smaller emerald green Thomas Lake and knew we were only about .3 mile to the other Thomas Lake. The campsite is nestled beneath the twin peaks of Mt. Sopris just above the second Thomas Lake. It is a stunningly gorgeous emerald green timber lined lake. It was quiet and secluded at this point and it seemed like we were situated in a bowl, surrounded by lesser peaks across Thomas Lake which completed the circle. We chose campsite #2 as it was not too far down to the lake for resupplying our water. There were a couple large flat boulders which made great tables to prep and eat lunch and afterwards we set up camp, including for the first time an ultimate and safe wilderness hanging of the Ursack, our bulletproof Spectra fabric white bear bag. It was at least 20 feet up and out on a limb!!! That left us the afternoon to relax by this beautiful little mountain lake, read, ponder, and wade in the very cold bouldered bottom lake. It was a fun challenge stepping around onto boulders on the lake bottom – seeing if they were firmly planted, slick with algae, flat enough to step on and not tip me in for a shockingly cold dip.

Rain threatened off and on during the afternoon and dinner time brought a thunder shower. When the rain broke we quickly got the Jet Boil going for our “gourmet” bagged meals which I so lovingly created prior to this trip. Out biggest problem was impatience, not waiting long enough for the water to fully absorb so instead of pasta or rice a la dente we had many very crunchy rice and pasta meals! But often impatience was fueled by the threatening storms. Today was no exception because we soon needed to retreat to our tents due to more rain and the visitation of the dinner hour flies and mosquitos.
When trying to nod off around nine, all of a sudden there was a loud thunderous noise and it seemed like a very large loud bulldozer was going to come tearing through, massacring the forest and our campsite. Needless to say we were quite startled. When quiet fell upon us, we were able to deduce it was a large rockslide on one of the mountains encircling the lake. It definitely put me on edge a little, not knowing how close it was to us, but I wasn’t going to pack up my tent and hike out in the dark. That would be sure disaster. I heard two more lesser slides during the night.
The adventures of the night didn’t stop with the rockslide though. It continued to rain and rain. When it rains on the tent it is hard to tell how hard the rain is. It seems to magnify the intensity. But I had to pee badly and I had kept putting it off. But finally I had no choice by 1:00 am. I kept trying to fiddle with my rain cape and put it on but failed miserably. So I finally just climbed out and stepped in a “lake” of water up to my ankles My tent was sitting in a shallow lake. So after completing the task, I crawled back into the tent and had to strip off my soaked socks and pants as the legs were sopping. I finally was back in my bag and asleep by two, praying for no more adventures that night!
Though we had brought enough food to stay and extra day we opted for the hike out as everything was a wet muddy mess and covered with dirt, leaves, pine needles. There was no hope of drying things out as it dawned a chilly 50 degrees and was quite cloudy. The trail was somewhat muddy and slick in spots but surprisingly better than I anticipated. Before we left we were able to pin point where the thunderous rockslide was the night before. Everything had a different look now with the dark, threatening clouds and it had an entirely different beauty. One of Tasia’s challenges with Amara, to add to the enjoyment of the hike, was to find and photograph what looked like faces in the rocks, tree trunks, flowers etc. It was quite fun way to be more aware of so much of what we often do not pay attention to in our surroundings. Can you see the faces?

 

Fortunately we didn’t have to dive under our rain ponchos as we hiked out. I think a lot about what it must have been like for the pioneers of our country in their traverse to the West. I am hiking with great lightweight high tech equipment and still it can get quite uncomfortable. But hundreds of years ago with the conestoga wagons and everything that needed transporting being quite heavy, how incredibly arduous it must have been. I doubt they had time to enjoy the delicacy of the wildflowers. insects or a raindrop on a leaf.

 

Once back to the car, the next challenge would be finding a campsite in the Aspen area, not an easy task in the high season. A visit to the USFS Office in Carbondale revealed that there was no dispersed camping in the Aspen area as it was all private land and our best bet would be to head out east to a couple of National Forest Service Campgrounds up towards Independence Pass that don’t allow advanced reservation. We began to feel discouraged as the first one was full but a few miles up the road we came to Lost Man USFS Campground which was basically empty. We of course hurried the set-up as the regular afternoon storming was looming and it did not disappoint. Kili got soaked and then jumped into the tent, muddied feet of course, and walked and rolled on my sleeping bag. That is one thing every hiker and backpacker wants to keep dry at all cost – the sleeping envelope! When the rain let up Tasia managed to string one of my tarps up over the picnic table to have a dry place to eat our yet again JetBoil bagged meals! However, it is a good thing because I can’t imagine trying to prepare a gourmet meal in the drizzle. Would be quite a watery diluted menu. Rain forced us back into the tents by 7:30 for the night.

 

After resupplying in Crested Butte we headed to Carbondale.We side tripped through Redstone, a very quaint and expensive historic small town on the Crystal River. The next trail we planned to backpack accessed on Forest Service Roads that are on mostly gravel – meaning washboard teeth jarring and kicking up lots of dust, driving 10-15 miles per hour. We did not have a good handle on where we were going to camp but given that we were going to be in the White River National Forest, dispersed camping was always an option. We scouted out the Thomas Lake Trailhead but it was too late to think of backpacking out and there was no camping at the trailhead. So we headed back down the dusty byway. We had seen several spots along the road that appeared suitable to pitch our tents and Prince Creek was close enough to the area we chose was a water source. We would have access to out car parked at least 150 from site and 100 feet from water source. Dispersed camping,for those who my not be familiar with the practice,  is the right to set up camp in any of the National Forest outside a designated campground,  unless otherwise prohibited in specific area. I think of it as half way between “car camping” in an established campground with toilet and water provide and backpacking. There are no services such as trash removal, no facilities such as toilets , purified water,  fire pits, or tables. Of course with backpacking one engages in dispersed camping with no access to car.  It was in a shady grove, there were few bugs, and there was a great very cold creek in which to take a river bath. Here is a glimpse of our last two kitchens and bathroom equipment,  the hanging of the bear bag, water purification, and the  frenzied dogs at dinner time.

It eventually became a joke but when Tasia half-heartedly made an attempt to hang a bear bag. They warn of bears in the area but there was not much of a danger in this area here so our other concern was rodents.)After stretching the line and attaching a bag quite low she suddenly realized she was hanging it in the most contraindicate spot i.e. by the tents. So it became the task at each campsite to take a bear bag picture.

The two dogs have been incredible troopers given the many challenges encountered. Below are portraits of KILIMANJARO aka Kili, my sick dog during the backpacking adventures (who is now well), but he still hung in there with a little assistance and hand feeding by my awesome daughter Tasia.

 

Simba is not to be forgotten. Imagine, “Tiny Dog” as Tasia dubbed him, having to take ten steps for our one, leaping up on bolders that are more like short rocks to us, getting his belly wet fording creeks when it barely touches out toes. Kudos to this mighty little hiker.

Amara, twelve years of age was a great team member.  She trekked along , helped out with the dogs and was entirely engaged in the hike. Her mother, Tasia, would keep her engaged through such task as photography of wild flowers, finding faces to photograph in flowers, rocks, trees or any other object of nature that stood out. Portraits of Amara:

 

Tasia is a great photographer and we spent time by the creek photographing some of the simplest thing in our immediate surroundings including a clover leaf and clover flower,  a tree trunk, a mushroom, an abandoned bicycle with thistles growing into its wheel and chain, and  a strange nest in a globe hanging from the tree. If I take the time to pause and really look about me, there a a myriad of things to see.

It was a  quiet night with a brief rain burst.