Bluebird Lake - Raspberry Moose Part 2

It's been a long time since I've been to Bluebird Lake. I think the last time was a camping trip when my girls were still in high school. I thought I might catch up with a Y group headed that way, but ended up having the cool and quiet day all to myself. I even got a parking spot at Wild Basin when arriving at 10. Summer must be winding to an end. It's that lull between schools starting ridiculously early and the fall colors of September. Undoubtedly the best time to go hiking in the park

Once on top of the ridge in the burn area next to Ouzel Creek, I was treated to a view of three large bull moose. They were on the other side of the creek, munching away. Large, dark shapes looking strangely out of place amid the downed trees and the fireweed.

 

 

But the best reason to go to Bluebird Lake is the raspberries. My hike just might have taken a little longer than normal due to the abundance of berries right now. I didn't even make a dent. Mmmmmm. So I guess this could be called the second Raspberry Moose hike.

 

Meeker and Longs

Despite the afternoon showers that have been building earlier and earlier, we were rewarded with a suprisingly clear day. Starting out on the trail around 3am, we could see the lights of Boulder and Denver off on the plains as the bright stars lit up the night. Orange streaks painted the horizon as we arrived at Chasm Meadows for a quick breakfast stop.

From Chasm Meadows we hiked up toward the Loft while the alpenglow lit the sides of the mountains above us. A fleeting moment and then the sunlight hit us, and the orange faded from the rocks.

Tom led us up the rocks and the ramps that weave across the slabs at the top of the Loft.

One of our narrow ramps on the way up. When we made the hairpin turn at the top of this ramp, we chose to climb a few rocks on the right to avoid the exposure on the left. Morgan demonstrated the now patented barrel roll technique at the top of the rocks when lack of flexibility in her legs and pants left her unable to get that right leg fully extended.

First stop Meeker. Keith, Morgan, Brittany and me. Tom was taking the photo. Not a lot of room to set up the tripod, and Muneca as trapped inside my backpack a few hundred feet below.

 Longs looked so close from Meeker. Unfortunately this nice little tundra ramp has a 200' notch at the end of it, making it impossible to traverse. Clarks Arrow route would take us back down to The Loft and descending off to our left, to climb up through the top of Keplinger's couloir.

 After descending some "interesting" little rock gullies, we came around the side of the Palisades. Brittany was craning her neck, trying to take it all in.

And then I looked up. A massive boulder was lodged in between the slabs of rock that make up the Palisades. This was directly overhead. We were hoping that no geologic events were about to take place. 

We climbed up past the Palisades and the top of Keplinger's couloir, eventually taking a small ramp on our left that would connect us to the Homestretch. After seeing only one person since 6am, the hikers were collected on the cracks of Homestretch leading up to Longs.

Our group on Longs - Keith, Tom, me with Muneca, Brittany and Morgan.

Muneca was joined by friends on the top of Longs Peak. The Matrushkas made their debut at 12,259 feet. In the foreground is the tube that holds the register, which is common on many of the peaks over 13,000 feet.

Coming down from Longs Peak via the Keyhole route, we eased our way along the Narrows. After all the other rock we had done, this seemed pretty tame.

From the Trough, we had breathtaking views of Glacier Gorge. Peaks arise from every angle. Lakes are dotted in the valley and along many of the hanging shelves.

After taking a short break in the Agnes Vaille shelter next to the Keyhole, we started our long hike back to the trailhead. Meeker stood out on our right at one point, a reminder of where we had been about 8 hours earlier.

A certain hikemaster was very happy to get her boots off after alomost 16 hours on the trail. And, no, those are not my feet.

CCY

It was a cold and foggy day, a bit like the beginning of a mystery story. The mystery was whether or not we would summit Chapin, Chiquita or Ypsilon. And if we did, whether we would see anything. After traversing to the saddle between Chapin and Chiquita, we decided to make for the summit of Chiquita in hopes that the swirling clouds would give us a glimpse to the valley below.

From Chiquita, it miraculously started to clear. We could look up to Ypsilon and down to the lakes below. Not wasting any time, we hiked down to the next saddle and up to the peak of Ypsilon.

A footy view down to the valleys below, but we were lucky we got that. We decided to skip Chapin on the return as the drizzle began to fall. My pack felt the lightest it's been all season since I was wearing every article of clothing in there. A stop for a mocha at the Alpine Visitor Center allowed us all to warm up and have the conversations that drizzle and hoods precluded.

Parika Lake and the Strawberry Moose

Oh, the trips to the west side of the park are always fun, especially when there is good company for the long drive over the top of the world. A herd of elk on the way there and some big bull elk on the way back graced the tundra. But once on the trail, we hiked up through subalpine flowers and lush forests. Finally, just when we thought all the steep bits must be finished, we topped out at treeline for a view of Parika Lake.  

No moose awaited us at the lake this year, but Rich brought his kite. Despite the downdraft that hampered efforts, he finally got the kite high in the sky. Note for next year: do not fly over a large clump of krumholz when the winds are variable.

Geoffrey and Muneca enjoyed their last afternoon spooning. We finally looked up the definition: it really only means suddling and kissing.

Our group at Parika Lake - Pat, me, Rich, Dave, Trevor and Carl. Geoffrey and Muneca are on the blue backpack.

The raspberries aren't ripe yet this year, but instead we spied wild strawberries close to the ground. They were so tiny and so good. Barely a morsel, but so full of flavor. A flash of red in the undergrowth and we were bending over trying to find the brightest of the red berries. The moose was seen off the side of the road on the way home, but that still qualifies as Strawberry Moose. And a few miniscule blueberries thrown in for good measure.

Chasm Lake

Hiking up toward Chasm Lake always makes me feel insignificant. The two highest mountains in Rocky Mountain National Park are towering on two sides. And those mountains are scoured into sheer faces, whose surfaces could tell an interesting story. A cloudy day made the story in the rocks a little more visible.

I've been loving the panorama views that I can create with my new camera, but especially in places where there is no way to capture the scene in a single shot. When mountains surround and I am dwarfed, it brings some immensity to the photo. But it looks too far away. I need to cut out the photo into a long strip and wrap it around me.

Our group at Chasm Lake. In back - Gary, Andrew, Chris, and Bob. In fron - me, John, Sherry, Catherine with Muneca, Jordan, and Paul

Peacock Pool and Columbine Falls against the flank of Mt Meeker. The sun kept trying to creep out, but the clouds and rain won out by the time we reached treeline. Even Gary finally surrendered to the raincoat.

Emerald Lake photo hike a little later

I've learned there is only so much you can control. When the hiking schedule came out this week my 6am hike was listed with a start time of 8:15. The light would be different. The crowds would be different, but you never quite know what you will find. The light was perfect on Nymph Lake, striking the pond lilies and making them glow.

Stonecrop was growing through the cracks in some large rocks on our right as we climbed up toward Dream Lake.

A dramatic looking moth posed while eating its breakfast. Looking it up online I found one reference to a Police Car moth - Arctiidie Pericopinae Ghophaela vermiculata. Seems like an appropriate name!

Emerald Lake looks different every time I go. Light, time of day, position. The differences can be so subtle, but each photo tells the story of a different visit. 

Our group at Emerald -Diane, Elva (with Muneca hiding), Betty, Bob, Victoria, Maggie and Steve.

Hutcheson and Cony Lakes

Hiking up and back in time to some lakes I haven't visited in about 20 years, it was a lake and flower extravaganza. Calypso Cascades, Finch Lake and Pear Lake were just the start of the fun. Finch gave us the perfect early morning reflection in a still lake. Pear Lake brought Copeland towering to the north and glimmers of the upper gorge. The faint trail that headed up to the next lakes threaded its way through waist high chiming bells. Meadows of columbine speckled the grassy areas.

Lower Hutcheson was surrounded by a meadown of paintbrush. We skirted Middle Hutcheson to the north so that we could stay high and away from the krumholz. Crossing the stream, and another few rocks we reached Upper Hutcheson. And then we scrambled on to the prize of Cony Lake, nestled between Copeland and Ogallala.

Cony Lake is an open high country lake. The mountains surround, but the bowl in which it sits is large.

Our group at Cony Lake - Theresa, Bob, Morgan with Muneca, Annie with Geoffrey, Rich and Maggie.

Coming down, we got to see each of the lakes from another angle. Middle Hutcheson lies on the last bench before descending back into the trees.

Flattop and Hallets

Perfecly calm at Bear Lake indicated that it would be a wonderful day on the tundra. You never know if you will be on a summit in shorts and a T-shirt, or a down parka.

Plenty of marmots and picas were out in the rocks once we reached treeline. They weren't begging for food like the chipmunks and ground squirrels always do, but they werent shy either. This one was nibbling the grass right along the trail, and didn't move very far as we hiked past him.

Our group at the summit of Hallets: Daniel, Wendy, Maggie, Maria Jose (with muneca) and Marta.

It doesn't matter which direction you face - summits and snowfields surround you.

Shelf and Solitude Anniversary Hike

July 16th - Our 30th anniversary! We celebrated the day with a hike to Shelf and Solitude accompanied by a lot of bantering and laughter. Rich and Bob must have been along. First stop was Mills Lake. Even though some of us had just been there yesterday, today was clear and calm, with mirrorlike reflections and the high mountains in full view.

After we all had made is safely across Helicopter Rock, the uphill scramble started. Over slippery roots, downed trees, rocks, we snaked our way vertically up to our next destination - Shelf Lake. Finally the land levels out, we can breathe normally again, and the lake opens up in front of us. Ice and snow still remains on the far side of the lake where Solitude empties into Shelf.

We are all smiling because we have comsumed brownies, ding dongs, twinkies and M&M's. Our group at Solitude: back row - Catherine, Rich, Richard, Kim, Tommy, Theresa, Carl. Front row - Hannah, Mallory, Gregory (with Muneca), Evan (with Geoffrey), Elliot, Bob and Maggie.

A last look at Solitude Lake on a perfect day.

Winding our way down a slightly different way, we managed to find Shelf Creek Falls. Theresa and Tommy were also celebrating their anniversary. We've shared this special day for the 4th year now, a wonderful tradition.