A Day in the Park - ended in epic fashion

My body clock had not failed.  As my eyes focused on the LED on the nightstand, it read 4:49 a.m.  Adequate time to fill a water bladder and secure my multi-day pack in the truck.  All essential gear, and food for a five-day trip had been packed in advance of today.  The day would serve as a preparation hike for our upcoming annual week-long trek later this month.


Larkspur Creek, one of a number of short break spots on during the climb up Mills Moraine.

Ed and I met at 6:30, hoping to get through morning rush hour traffic with minimal effort.  A pit stop in Lyons took mere minutes.  We were on our way to Long's Peak TH, off CO. Rt. 7.

Arriving just after 9 a.m., we found the parking lot full plus vehicles were parked along the access road leading to the TH.  One small space remained and thanks to the size of ED's Toyota, Tercel, we pulled in at the end of a row of SUV's.

The ranger station (8,420' el.) was a hub of activity even at this late hour of the morning.  Hikers, trail runners, and rock climbers were at their vehicles in various stages of preparing for their day.

Rock-strewn trail bed.

I asked a ranger what trail conditions were to Chasm Lake.  'It's in good condition,' he said.  The snow field before the lake is passable and should be done with caution.  We had no clue at that point, the degree of caution we would face.

The moment I set foot on trail, I felt elated to be where I was.  How wonderful it is to be able to explore a special place like RMNP.


Junction with E. Long's Peak trail.

The first .5 mile is a spur trail leading to the junction with East Long's Peak trail.  From there trail climbs steadily over 3 the next miles to a junction with Chasm Lake trail.

Along the 3-mile span, we enjoy magnificent views of the rock-littered Estes Cone (11,006'), to the north, and Mt. Meeker (13,911') on the horizon to our front.  The area consists primarily of Lodgepole and Limber Pine forests.

On trail to the snow field and Chasm Lake.

As we climb the stone-littered trail up Mills Moraine it's obvious based on the number of vehicles at the TH, most of those on trail today are ahead of us.  Although a number of young men and women passed us during the morning.

Soon, we can hear the tumbling waters of Larkspur Creek, not far off trail.  We would cross it once before breaking out from treeline around 10,500'.

The best Mother Nature could offer is on display for us.  Columbine Falls is in middle foreground.

This is the first time on this trail for both of us.  The only pre-hike reference we had was a topo trail map.  Maps are good guides but have no way of indicating true physical effort, stamina, and shear persaverance needed to complete a climb such as this.

Columbine Falls and the snow field.  Three figures can be seen making the traverse.

Our pace slowed as we climbed past 11,500' el.   A relentless amount of loose and partially exposed rock on trail were constant challenges.  What became more and more daunting were the scores of 18 - 24" high rock steps.  Some were natural but many were man-made.  The latter were constructed randomly to minimize erosion on the slopes. 

Ed carefully plants one pole while making contact with snow on the opposite side while crossing.

Regardless if one steps directly up and over a step or go around it requires added energy to negotiate the feature.

Horse and wildlife scat proved to be another challenging factor.  Quick decisions had to be made second by second exactly where to place the next step.  One type of scat we didn't recognize until later in the day was that of a Llama.

Plateau before the final climb to Chasm Lake.  Water in center is runoff from the tarn (glacial lake) above.

Approaching the junction with Chasm Lake trail, I looked at my watch.  It took over 5 hours to climb 3.5 miles.  It would be another .7 miles to Chasm Lake.  A short distance but oh what sights were ahead.

Already exhausted from the arduous climb, we decided to have lunch at the junction.  It felt so good to finally lower my pack and sit on a cool rock.

The rugged landscape surrounds us as we approach the final ascent.

In the .7 mile span to Chasm Lake, we experienced some of the most remote and rugged back country terrain I have seen in decades of hiking.  The images captured with a camera lens provide only a glimpse of the overwhelming magnitude of this magical place.  Each step closer to the lake brought scene after scene of massive Columbine Falls cascading over smooth rock faces, tumbling into Peacock Pool below.

This climb is not one for sissies!

The horizon reads like some famous outdoor authors best seller list.  There stands Mt. Meeker (13,911').  Below it is Ships Prow, a small Crag south and to the left of the lake.  Next are The Loft and The Notch, each a unique and extremely challenging test for those who dare try to master them.  Both features are infamous for the degree of difficulty to negotiate them.  Below them is Lambs Slide, a moderate snow climb at a 45 degree slope.  Below that rests Mills Glacier at 12,800' directly above Chasm Lake.

Chasm Lake, with Mills Glacier directly above.

Towering over everything is that icon of mountains, Long's Peak (14,258').  Peak baggers clamor to make their way to the summit, and check it off their list.  It's on virtually every hikers bucket list.  It's been on mine for years.  The Trough and Agnes View are features both on the East face of the mountain.  All of it is directly before us.  Also high above us is The Keyhole and Boulderfield.  Each feature is a special challenge for those who dare attempt to master them.  Finally there is Mt. Lady Washington (13,281').

Tired but happy buddies.

Around us is Alpine Tundra, a delicate habitat consisting of perennial grasses, sedges, and forbs, prostrate shrubs, and graminoids that form tussocks, cushion plants and lichens.  You might say it's a totally different world up here. 

Despite the harsh weather a full array of petite wildflowers thrive here, including Frost Ball, Coulter Daisy, Alpine Senico, Dwarf Goldenrod, Bistort, Purple Fringe, Black Sedge, Subalpine Larkspur, and the ever-present Krummholz.

A look back to a place I will never forget.

As we move around a rock formation there it is...a huge snow field clinging to the side of the mountain.  I can see slow-moving dots (hikers) from one side of the massive white blanket to the other.  Estimated to be 50' - 60' from beginning to end, it would prove to be the defining moment of the day, not only in terms of the high level of challenge is presented, but also it would be a test of ones patience, dexterity, and balance.

The vastness of this place is astounding.

For me it posed yet another challenge.  One that I face each day.  That of focus.  To cross this fully exposed area at 11,500' el., with no mountaineering gear or crampons and a 30+# pack on my back was a challenge I would accept.  

Not until we were much closer to the snow field itself did we fully understand the magnitude of the challenge we faced.  We were about to maneuver across a 50' - 60' wide snow field.  Trail across the entire span was literally carved out of the steeply-sloped snow by many like-minded men and women who hiked this trail before today.

The sound of tumbling water is the best.

I offered and Ed immediately accepted the use of one of my poles for the crossing.  A third point of contact makes a difference to ones confidence.

Footing surface varied from 4 - 8" wide.  Much of it tilted down slope.  At the end of that slope...150+' drop to the base of the snowfield.  The floor of the moraine below that. 

The approach was tricky.  Littered with jagged exposed rock and clumps of alpine grass, the area was soggy from melting snow and runoff from yet higher elevations.  Once on the snow it was obvious only one foot literally in front of the other was the only method that would get us safely to the other side.

Blue Columbine

On the upper side of the ledge the snow field climbed steeply upward.  That would provide yet another point of contact with our free hand.  Simply touching the snow on one side while planting a pole on the other provided an added degree of composure and confidence to master the challenge.

For the next 5 minutes, I didn't look up or down slope.  The only thing I focused on was my footing, balance and a firm yet delicate plant of my pole.  More than once the outside foot gave way...sliding ever so slightly down slope...FOCUS, FOCUS.

Negotiating the snow field one more time.

The X factor was the added weight of our packs.  Conditions as they were, a slight shift of ones body can cause a loss of focus.  At the time that thought never entered my mind.  Ed would later say, "That's the first and last time I'll do that."

Once the biggest challenge of the day was met, we both took a deep breath while feeling a sense of accomplishment.  Oh, wait, we must do the same thing again on the return.

A short distance among tiny streams formed by runoff from the lake above and snow fields clinging to surrounding slopes, we pass one of the solar composting toilets strategically located throughout the park.

I wait till Ed is across before starting.

Ahead of us is one more climb of about 280' through house-size boulders, scree, wet rocks, all surrounded by beautiful wildflowers, the sounds of waterfalls thrashing down the mountain and an occasional squeek of a Pika as it scampers from rock to rock scoping us out.

Although the final approach took us well into the afternoon, we had made it to Chasm Lake (11,760').

Clouds overhead had already turned from white to grey.  It would be a matter of time before those same clouds might surprise us with a fury of the elements only Mother Nature can provide.

View of the landscape as we leave this magical place. Columbine Falls and Peacock Pool

Over our left shoulder, Ed spots a couple making their way to a spot from which they can take in a view of the lake.  We acknowledge each other about the same time as they make their way closer.  The woman (Lauren) is in a bubbly mood as she asks if one of us would take their picture.  Obviously excited, Lauren could not stop talking about, 'After crossing the snow field, her partner (Randy) got down on one knee and proposed to me, and I said YES.'

We would learn Lauren is a writer.  With over 20 books about teens/tweens to her credit, Lauren has been on the New York Times best sellers list.  As the couple from Ft.Collins got comfy on a rock overlooking Chasm Lake, I captured a series of images, one of which might be among those in their wedding album one day.

Looking back, we see Randy and Lauren slowly making their way across the snow field.

Offering my camera to Randy to reciprocate, he took it without hesitating saying, 'I have the same model.'  A Bio-Medical Engineer at CSU, Randy said they would take a dip in the lake before rerturning down the mountain.  It would be our cue to quickly vacate the scene.  We should be off this mountain by now anyway.

The return traverse across the snow field was done with a renewed level of confidence.  Before making the first step from soggy tundra to snow, I spotted a figure dressed in royal blue perched on a rock beyond the snow field.  When I got there, it was a woman who had decided she was not going to cross the snow field as her husband did.  I'm sure she was not the first to do so.

Now, well after 3 p.m., skies are becoming increasingly dark.  No thunder, but that can change in an instant at this elevation.

Lloyd, Howell and Boreman rest with their handler before starting down the mountain.

Ahead, Ed stops on trail for one last look at the magnificent landscape.  Looking back to the snow field, we can see two figures moving ever so slowly across the snow field...it's Lauren and Randy.  We hope to hear from them again.

As we approach the junction with East Long's Peak trail, we notice a park ranger leading three Llamas in our direction.  At the junction, we learn Lloyd, Howell, and Borman have been employed by the park service as pack animals.  This day the three sure-footed animals would be packing saddlebags full of ________to the TH. (Answer at the end).  Before leaving the junction, a woman ranger arrived with two additional Llamas also on the job.

Our energy level at this point was low.  Neck and shoulders had a certain ACHE that only a backpacker can appreciate.  In addition, calves that are about to cramp up, thighs are screaming...STOP PLEASE, must be overcome with a renewed focus and determination.  It would be after 6:30 (over 13 hours since my eyes first focused on the LED on the night stand, before we reached the TH.

Following Llamas does not provide the cleanest trail bed.

Soonafter starting down, there was a splat of wetness on my forearms.  As I bounced over the same erratically placed steps negotiated during the climb, I tried to lessen the impact on my knees using poles. 

More rain drops plastered on rocks in all directions.  Still, no thunder or lightening.  Our pace remains slow but steady.

The Llamas and their handlers are behind us until we are well down slope.  When the woman handler and two Llamas approach, she explained, that her co-worker remained on the mountain with one of the three Llamas "Down."  Her plan was to continue to the TH, secure the two Llamas, then hike back up the mountain to help her fellow-ranger bring the other animals, one possibly injured, safely to the TH.  We would not know how that story ended.

What we were about to learn was that our day was far from over.

On approach to the TH, my watch indicated it was 6:41 p.m.  The ranger station was locked, closed for the night.  We had just passed the woman ranger as she began her trek back to her co-worker and three Llamas.  As we passed a rusted old pickup in the parking lot with two Llamas she secured in back, we hoped our presence would not agitate them.

With packs off our shoulders and soft shoes/sandals replacing boots, we pulled out of the road side space...last of the vehicles to leave. 

Falls during the return.

Back on Rt. 7, a profound fluttering noise started coming from the engine compartment.  We are some 25 miles from civilization.  Was it a tire going flat, a steering arm severed, or a transmission gone out. 

The noise increased with each nudge Ed made to the throttle, and each shift of gears.  It sounded like a playing card attached to a bike tire with a clothes pin...a sound only those over 50 can remember.

My next thought is the noise might be that of a severed piston rod, freezing a piston inside the engine block.  By now, the low oil LED on the dash came on but went off again.  One good sign, the temperature gauge indicator remained on the 'C' (cool) side...a plus amid numerous negatives. 

Could the engine be choking, while losing oil, plus if a piston froze, it means metal on metal, and eventual failure.


Nothing but granite boulders to negotiate.

We are still over 10 miles outside of Lyons, but the road is all downhill from here.  Ed decides to put the transmission into neutral to lower the RPM's thus reducing the likely hood of the engine overheating.  Now, we are coasting mile after mile, downhill.  Ed is using the brakes sparingly but there is a distinct smell...hot break pads.  

As vehicles approach from the rear, Ed steers the car to the berm until vehicles pass, every one gunning the throttle, spewing diesel smoke in their wake, as they rumble down grade.  Nobody as much as takes notice...men fishing along the creek, campers parked for the night or visitors standing on the edge of the bank taking pictures.  Nobody notices a car in deep distress or the slight grimaces on our faces.

A number of attempts at getting cell phone coverage is answered with...NO SERVICE.  Finally, we are at the bottom of St. Vrain Creek Road where the roadbed begins to level.  Ed engages the clutch and tries to engage the transmission.  After a huge jolt, the engine RPM's increase, sending the loudest clacking and fluttering noise yet into the surrounding air.  We keep moving.

Ed pampers the vehicle into Lyons and turns to go by the town park.  A summer live concert is in full swing as we slowly glide by townspeople clustered on blankets and lawn chairs.  Not certain if the music on stage was loud enough to overcome that of what was coming from under the hood.

Last view of Long's Peak.

We made it to the frontage road along Rt. 36 in Lyons.  Less than a mile from a service station.  We could see the lights up ahead.  Then another jolt from the engine, as Ed tries to shift the transmission one more time by popping the clutch.  It doesn't work.  We are dead on the road.

Darkness is now another thing to contend with.  Traffic on the frontage road is minimal, although tonight there may be some when the concert is over.  Now approaching 8 p.m., I try again for cell service...Yes.   First call is to get a tow service.  After a long hold from the service provider, ETA will be 30 minutes.

Next call, to our spouses to inform them where we are and why.  Soon a truck from Georges Towing Service arrives.  The driver agrees to take Ed to the service station for oil.  Ed had pulled the dip stick indicating a mere trace of oil remaining in the crankcase.  Three qts. of oil added, and an attempt to start the engine failed.  Not even a grunt or a moan...nothing.

After hoisting the car the tow truck driver, his wife, Ed and I all sardined in the tow truck for the one-mile trip across town to a local service center known by the tow truck driver. 

Ed's wife is on her way to Lyons, so we decide to walk the mile back to town for a long overdue dinner at Oskar Blues.  Although it's now close to 10 p.m. we expect to get a hot meal while we wait for our ride home.

After being seated, we decide to wash up, only to find no soap in the mens room.  We summon an employee who attempts to replace the empty dispenser but cannot get the container open.  Now one might get the impression that somehow our day has not been going well.  We were then directed to the lower level to a second wash room to wash up. 

Back at our table, we had each ordered a beer, a pulled pork sandwich and a house salad.  The waitress brought the meals and we lunged into the sandwiches with anticipation of a tasty meaty chomp.  Not so fast. 

A number of bites later we realized it was not pulled pork we were biting into, it was a portobello mushroom sandwich.  Looking at each other across the table, eyes as big as our plate, we are incredulous there is no meat in our sandwiches.  Downing the last bite minutes later, the mushrooms actually were a healthier non-choice than the pulled pork.

One more stop to rehydrate before the TH.

When the waitress returned, asking, 'How are your meals?'  I responded, 'Well, we ordered pulled pork and got portobello mushrooms.'  'Oh my, she said, I must have pressed the wrong key on the screen...portabello is next to pulled pork, you know.'

When the bill arrived, one of our sandwiches was marked 'No charge.'  THANKS!!!

A minute after leaving Oskar Blues, Ed's wife had found us and we were on our way across Lyons one more time to retrieve or back packs from the now dead Toyota.  Pending the autopsy report, the vehicle might be a candidate for a nearby junk yard.

Our final trip across the town of Lyons would be the most comfy feeling all day.  Riding south on I-25, I couldn't help but think about the park ranger on the mountain, with 3 Llamas in tow.  One possibly injured or unwilling to walk. 

Would the woman ranger get to him before dark?  Would they get the Llamas down the mountain safely?  Finally, would Ed be forced to agree his car would be too costly to repair and discard it to a scrap yard?  As this article is posted, none of those answers are confirmed.

At home, after a long hot shower, my head finally touched the pillow.  My eyes gazed at the LED on the night stand.  It was 12:14 a.m.

Total Trail Miles Completed = 8.4

Total Elevation Gain = 2,360'

Total road miles completed = 190

What will I remember most about this awesome day?  Would it be the long climb, the magnificent landscapes, the snow field, Randy and Lauren, the mangey Llamas, the harrowing 10+ mile coast into Lyons, or the portobello instead of pulled pork sandwiches?  All of it, it's part of the journey!

Answer to the question of what the Llamas were packing out of the mountain in their saddle bags.  Human waste recovered from a series of back country solar composting privies on Long's Peak.