| Because I’ve had a dog longer than a car,
and because national parks have very strict rules about dogs in parks,
I’ve only been hiking in Rocky Mountain National Park twice, despite living
only an hour away for the past 8 years. The only other time I entered the
park was at night, in the fall, to listen to elk bugling. We did not hike
that particular evening. I know that someday I’ll be living far away and
regret not spending more time in one of the most beautiful national parks
in the world. Andra and I decided to leave Frank at home for once and spend
a day at the park in January 2002. The particular day we chose was cold
and clear: very pretty to look at, but not a great time to be out hiking.
I remember the wind was pretty brisk. As a bonus we figured there wouldn’t
be very many people there.
Once inside the park, we drove along Hwy
36 and stopped a few times to get out and bushwhack across a few hills
and walk along ridges and deep snow. We didn’t take any particular trail,
but instead just wandered around, probably in violation of Park policy.
One of the cool things we came across was a thin creek in a meadow that
was frozen solid. The ice had cracked into blocks here and there, and was
pretty deep, seeming to go down a few feet at least. It looked like a giant
seam of glass, as if that were a mineral that was occasionally deposited
in the earth. We drove up the beginning of Trail Ridge Rd, which I have
heard is the highest paved road in America, to a locked gate. We parked
the car and walked through the unplowed snow on the road beyond the locked
gate for about 1.5 miles or so. To the right of the road was a low rock
wall with a steep drop-off beyond. Standing on this low wall was a great
way to soak in the beauty of the snow-capped peaks visible to the north
and west. We turned around when the wind surpassed ridiculous, and crept
into what I would label insane. By that point we were both bundled up completely,
leaning into the wind and not talking at all. On the way back we passed
two people snowshoeing, and as we arrived back at the car, we encountered
quite a few people milling about. The mountain to the southwest blocked
most of the wind at that point, so we took the time to walk along a trail
that paralleled the road and had little information kiosks that identified
the peaks in view, wildlife, vegetation, etc. In the calm air and the mid-day
sun, it almost felt warm. By mid afternoon we had been thoroughly replenished
with the cleansing quality of the forest, and decided to return home to
hassle the poor dog we left behind.
My second hike in the park happened in
July 2003. I walked a short ways off trail along a ridge near Beaver Meadows.
I didn't go far, since I was in the park on other business, but I made
time for this hike over my lunch hour. I snapped a few photos, but they
were on the roll of film that the photo shop lost. I don't feel too bad.
The shots I took were probably not award winning compositions, anyway.
|
