The vacation posts are done

The photo gallery is here.

The YouTube Longs Video is here.

The Trip Home

Saturday, Aug 25

It was all business Saturday morning. It was to be a beautiful day, another great one for anyone who wanted to try Longs, or do anything else in the park for that matter.

But we had to get home.

My least favorite part of the trip is breaking down camp to go home. But we did it in fairly short order, took everything out of the car and re-packed it, checked out of the campground and headed for Estes Park for a quick breakfast and a good cup of coffee for the road.

We found both at Coffee on the Rocks -- a good egg muffin, and sweet muffins to go, with great coffee.

We drove through Lyons and Boulder and sped away on the interstate. I was almost thankful for the haze as I couldn't feel the mountains tugging me through the rear view mirrors like I can when you can see them

We stopped at Limon at a gas station/gift shop where I got a neat, large Kokopeli mug and a Colorado Rockies T-Shirt for me and another Colorado T-Shirt for Vicki.

The trip back to Olathe was pretty uneventful. It's always amazing how much Kansas territory you can see going East.

One thing I found fascinating was the number of people I ran into from Minnesota up there. It seemed like Minnesota and Wisconson were over-represented ;-). Maybe it's the flatness.

My last conversation with Vicki let me know that she wouldn't be home Sunday, so I'd be spending the night in Olathe. If she were home I knew I probably couldn't resist driving the extra 2.5 hours.

I can't complain about anything. The trip was fantastic.

The few things I learned:

• Add more ibuprofen and an ace bandage to your first aid kit
• Always bring your monopod
• Reserve campsites ahead of time on the web
• Try not to have to change campsites during the stay
• Granola and protien bars for breakfast. Less preparation and cleanup time means more time enjoying the park.
• If you even think a piece of valuable gear might slip away, say, into a creek or something to possible ruin -- move it. Secure it. Now.
• If you think your tent might need seam sealing, do it. Now.

A Serendipitous Elkortunity

Subtitle: Always Bring Your Monopod!

More Friday, Aug 24

The one thing I'd missed on this trip was a nice Elk photographing opportunity. Mark had a decent opportunity near the campground ranger station the evening I was coming down Longs and was able to get a few nice shots, probably of the same herd we were about to stumble upon. The opportunities I'd had so far were in cloudy, far less than ideal conditions. On my previous two trips to the park, they had been everywhere, especially in the lower valleys. And on my 2005 trip, you could count on herds of them in Moraine Park and Beaver Meadows near sunset... prime photography time.

We had just crossed the Big Thompson River in the very early evening on our way back from Bierdstat Lake on our last day in the park on a glorious afternoon when we spotted a smallish but respectable herd in the lower Moraine Park Valley area. I whipped the car into a small gravel parking area, and we treked down an old road that petered out and disappeared into the meadow where the Elk were.

It doesn't get any better than this.

We gave them a respectful berth and watched for signs that any of them cared that we were there at all. They didn't. The does were grazing and/or lying down chewing cud. There were a couple of young bucks lying down, and a magnificent buck patroling the herd.

He was occasionally thrashing the meadow grass with his horns, tossing it from side to side. He was pretty riled up, but not at us. Still, that aggression could easily be re-focused on us.

I spotted a rock from which to try photographing. The light was beautiful, but relatively low, and I needed to be "up sun" from them. Plus I needed something to help hold my camera still for the long focal lengths I'd be using.

Dang, I wish I had looked harder for the monopod before I left.

But no. Use what you have available. I tried a few tricks my Marine sharp-shooting step-son had taught me about holding a rifle steady for long shots, and also used the rock for several.

I got some decent ones.

The buck was checking out the over-active tails of many does, and it soon became quite apparent what he was so riled up about. They were in season, and he wasn't about to let his opportunity pass. We saw him breed with at least one doe while we were there.

But as the light further waned and I'd gotten all the shots I thought I might get, it was time to pack up and go back for our last night camping.

It's a relatively short trip back to camp from the meadow. Our new campsite was much closer to other campsites than our original. There were kids playing on the rocks by our site, but that's ok. I like seeing kids having a good time out here, and they weren't invasive. They were doing the same thing I did at that age when we camped in the Sierra Nevada mountains. Kind of fun.

While on the Bierdstat hike I realized that I'd never gone back to look for the flask I'd dropped back at the campground. It was one Vicki had gotten for me and it was monogramed. If it had been any other flask, I would have just written it off, but you can't replace a gift... not the "gift" part of it, anyway. It had sentimental value. I tried not to think about it and just hoped it would be there when we got back. I didn't figure it would be.

It wasn't.

I went down to the car to get the food bag, and I noticed a ranger in a golf cart on his radio. It was the same guy who had been a bit rough on Steve our first day there. He drove up to me as I got down to the car.

"Are you in 156?'
"Yes."
"Are your initials ..."
"PGL? You found my flask!"

He had. He'd found it that morning and taken it back and matched the initials with people registered for the surrounding camp sites. I thanked him profusely and mentally took back any negative thoughts I'd had about him before (hey, we all have bad days). I told him it had been a gift from my wife and that I wouldn't have cared about any other flask. The last possible dark spot on our last day had just been removed.

I cooked up the only instant rice/texturized soy protien meal we cooked that week. It was fine. We had three bundles of wood so we could have a white man fire as a sendoff for our last night. Sat and played music around the fire. Roasted a few marshmallows. I took a 30 second time exposure of Longs at Night just because I've never been able to do that with any digital camera I've had up until now. It turned out pretty well.

I had put the regular air matress up when we broke down camp and just used my little Thermarest pad, and actually slept in a sleeping bag tonight instead of using them for blankets on my matress, and took the neck pillow from the car for a pillow.

After a throroughly enjoyable evening talking & playing around the well-fed "white-man" fire* and going over the events of the trip, we finally turned in.

---

* this is a reference to an observation by certain American Indians that "white man" generally built fires bigger than they needed, making them easy to spot, as well as "wasting" fuel. Well, "waste" can be in the eye of the beholder.

Moving Day & Bierdstat Lake

Friday, Aug 24

Scuddy clouds raked the mountains around Moraine park, including Longs Peak in the distance. If there was any doubt that Tuesday was the right day to make the summit attempt, this morning cinched it. There was snow above 12,000 feet. Not a lot, but the snowline was quite visible. I found out later that at least for the morning the Keyhole route had therefore been "upgraded" to "technical". No way I would have climbed today. The rain had moved in Thursday and I would've been hiking down in the rain if I were lucky enough to make it to the top before it started. And Wednesday had some early clouds and storms rake across the peak. I was glad I did it when I did it.

The last full day in the park is always a bit sad, but a bit exciting. You really want to make the most of it. But we had a problem today. We had to move our tent to 156 by noon. And we had no control over when 156 would be vacated.

Another family was in the same boat and they had to move, too. We took a "tourist moment" picture for them as well as they carried their tent, assembled, from site to site. We didn't have that luxury since we weren't sure when 156 would be breaking down and leaving.

There was a couple from Lathrop, MO where Mark & Cami bought some land about a year or so ago, staying in 157 by the road where we parked. We'd wanted to talk to them more. They seemed like really nice folks and besides they were likely going to be Mark & Cami's neighbors in a few years. We shot the breeze with them and around 9:00am, the people in 156 started breaking down their camp. They were out by 10:30, and we moved ours. At one point my flask dropped out of what I was carrying near the campsite and I made a mental note to go back and retrieve it when I put my load down. We finished moving and talked to the Lathrops for a short bit longer, and headed out to check out of 158 and into 156 and go see what we could see in the afternoon. I was afraid it would cloud up and our shortened day would be a bust.

We told the very nice ranger lady in the camground booth that it was our last day and we wanted a relatively short hike on improved trail (for my knee) and to maybe catch a water fall or a lake or two. She made a note that I had done Longs and said "well people who do Longs generally like to stay away from crowds. Why don't you try Bierdstat Lake?"

So off we headed toward the Bear Lake area. The trailhead would be on the way.

But due to our late start, the parking lots were all full. There were signs to that effect. We'd have to take the Park & Ride shuttle, which I'd never taken before. We parked in the ample parking lot, gathered our stuff, got on a bus and were off in no time to the Bierdstat Lake trailhead.

The trail goes up about 650 vertical feet up the Bierdstat Moraine in just a little over a mile. My knee pretended it was going to bother me, but stopped completely before we were halfway up.

Looking at the trail it looked like it was going to be a woodsy climb with limited, if any, views. But when we broke above the pines into the aspens where there were clearings, the switchbacks offered ample views of the valley where Glacier Creek, Boulder Brook, and Wind River flow. The higher up we got, the better the veiws into Glacier Gorge, of Longs, Chief's Head, Hallett's, Mount Craig, and others.

The top of the moraine put us back into pine forest, and led down to a "trail around the lake". But no lake was visible. We continued to walk around it, occasionally getting out the topo map and matching it up with the GPS to decide where we should cut in to see the lake. We sat on a log while we looked over the map, and had some water. A little way down the trail we came upon a little ... side trail, or water channel? heading off to the right. We didn't know but either way it should should lead us to the lake. It did.

We broke out of the trees in a shady grove near a grassy end of the lake. A gnarled rootwad stood out in the sun -- in bold contrast to the lush green grass around it. A couple of birds started pestering us, and we took some pictures. The lake was pretty, but there wasn't a view beyond the trees rimming the lake.

I couldn't find my GPS. I hoped I hadn't dropped it, but it wasn't anywhere in my pack or on me. It was way too expensive to just give up on, so I backtracked up the trail scouring the ground for signs of it. I got to the main trail around the lake and went back to the last spot I remember using it. I didn't see it. But on my way back I noticed it face down on a log... the one we had sat on while we tried to figure out how best to get from here to the lake. I was just in the beginning mental stages of giving up the search and trying to convince myself not to let it spoil my day. It is grey, and the log was about the same shade. It's a wonder I saw it. Kudos to St. Anthony! (note... this actually happened after the next episode)

Back at the lake, grassy, reedy area extended about 20 or so feet out into the water, and at one point what we imagined a kind of large, serpentine movement moving generally toward us through the grass in the water startled us. Mark beat his hiking pole on the ground, and it moved away, only to start toward us again within about 30 seconds.

Having convinced ourselves somehow that it was a large snake (even though I've never seen a snake above 8,000 feet... not saying there aren't any... but...) I caught a bit of what looked like brown scales. If this were a snake it was a good 2.5" around. It must be big. I was backing up a bit and geting ready to take a picture of this large serpent as it emerged at the water's edge when it suddenly became quite apparent that we were dealing with a zealously friendly duck.

I think people feed the ducks up here. And come to think of it, those other birds were probably used to scavenging from sloppy, or generous, tourists as well.

We had a good laugh at ourselves. Took a few "tourist moment" shots. Ate lunch. And moved on to find the trail. We'd seen people at the other end of the lake and figured that would be nearer where the main trail dumped us to begin with.

We hadn't gone 100 yards before we realized we'd been resting and eating at the wrong end of the lake!

The high peaks to the south and west stood up above the trees when we looked back offering breathaking views against the mostly clear blue sky.

Thankfully, last night's cold front was followed by a stablizing northwesterly flow and high pressure, leaving us with a picture-perfect afternoon for our last day.

Well Mr. Shutterbug here went nuts, trying to figure out the right exposure and the trick to using my graduated neutral density filter to try to get a good exposure of the landscape without washing out the sky and especially the detail in the clouds. I got mixed results. I need to consult with my friend Megan.

But we did need to head back, and so after a few more tourist moment shots (some with cheesy but fun poses), we hiked out. On the way we found where we should've turned off the main loop trail -- there was a large hitching rail that said "no horses beyond this point".

Of course, the hike down offered spectacular views from the opposite direction as the hike up. That's a cool thing about hiking up here (or anywhere for that matter). You think the hike back is going to look the same as the hike in, but that's not true. They look different. You are seeing different stuff behind the same stuff, and that same stuff is being looked at from a 180 degree angle from the direction you saw it before.

So here's a bit of Phil's Hiking Wisdom:

The hike up is not the same as the hike down.

Simple as that.

My knee was doing fine. We had a nice chat with the bus driver on the way back to Park & Ride. I was a bit leery of Park and Ride... but no more. It's a great way to go... especially if you'd like to start at one trailhead in this valley and hike to another. They don't care where they drop you off or pick you up, just so long as you're at a bus stop.

So next time you see the parking lots full, don't fret. Do Park and Ride. Just make sure you have all your stuff before you get on the bus.

Zero Falls

Thursday, Aug 23

I had seen a place over by the End 'O Valley picnic area on my topographical at the beginning of old Fall River Road that looked like it should be a series of waterfalls cascading down a relatively steep portion of Sundance Mountain. The source of the stream seemed to be up on Sundance, the mountain of which we had tagged the summit Wednesday from Trail Ridge Road. We packed the backpacks and took off for there after a light breakfast and the traditional morning coffee from Mark's camp percolator.

On the map it was labeled "Thousand Falls". It sounded promising, and it shouldn't be too hard to find, maybe a few hundred yards at most from the picnic area.

Using the GPS, we wandered up Fall River a little ways. At one point, somehow the battery latch on the bottom of the Pentax had come open and deposited my batteries on the ground without my noticing it. Fortunately, Mark ran across the batteries and they were rescued and placed back in the camera.

We found our way across Fall River (which was only about 10 feet wide here). I think Mark found a small ford and I went across a log.

The other side was pretty much untouched, virgin forest. Probably not quite natural as we have had a tendency to discourage -- even stop -- forest fires in the last century, especially in parks like this. So I imagine the thickness of the undergrowth and preponderance of deadfall was at least somewhat exagerated. Either way it was surprisingly thick and slow going, especially with my knee, which wasn't really appreciating all of the bending it had to do to get over these obstacles.

We were practically in a forested marsh, and according to the GPS if there were falls we should hear them thundering. I thought if we could only find the creek that produced the falls we could follow it to them, but the creek was nowhere to be found.

On the ground, there was evidence of some water flow earlier in the season, but no water. Just very wet ground ... and the GPS said we should be standing right in the middle of the stream. We moved east and west and decided that the GPS was right and the stream was just done running. No more snowmelt.

Mark said we should call it "Zero Falls".

One of the reasons we came out this time of years was for me to have the best crack at a snowless Longs Peak. I guess that would naturally mean a lot of streams would be silent or mere trickles.

We went back to Fall River and sat and soaked our feet in it. It was fairly cold so I stuck my knee in it, which felt good.

We went back to the picnic area and sat and had a little lunch.

After a while I noticed my backside felt a bit wet. When we got up to leave, I realized I'd been sitting on the mouth piece of my hydration pack. What a klutz!

I changed pants.

It was clouding over, so time to look at more close-up intimate settings anyway, like water. We had passed over the Big Thompson River bridge on Bear Road... or the road that goes out to Bear Lake Road, several times. There is an area I'd stopped at last time that runs right under the bridge which is pretty much right at the end of the south lateral moraine of Moraine Park. Here the stream cuts through some impressively sized boulders and cascades around them. (for scale, keep in mind that I am in the picture to the right. I'm wearing a blue shirt. You'll probably have to click on it to find me.) Mark thought it looked neat and I'd promised we'd visit it before the week was out. The week was almost out. Plus I thought it was cool, too, and it'd give me a chance to try out my new neutral density filters Megan had reccomended to me to try to get that "silky" water effect in a stream or waterfall. I welcomed the chance.

Megan is a much better photographer than I'll probably ever be (but that won't stop me from trying to improve and get as close as I can!!), and I'd asked her about how she did that. She said with a digital camera you don't have much of a choice (especially with one whose lowest ISO setting is 200 speed) but to use neutral density filters.

Mark wandered about on the boulders at the edge while I set up my tripod on a car-sized one in the middle of the river. One should never forget the "People Have Died Here" warning sign, but with a little care the risk is smaller than Longs Peak past the keyhole ;-) .... I wasn't overly concerned, though I did take care not to take big leaps onto wet boulders. I stayed on dry ones where stepping from one to another wasn't terribly difficult.

After several over-exposed shots and a few under-exposed ones, I finally found a setting where I could get a proper exposure at half a second, long enough to get the silky effect. Now this isn't the prettiest cascade in the world, but I was just out for practice anyway, and the pictures are neat enough. It really gives you a better idea of the "feel" of the place than a still shot that stops water droplets mid-air (although I will admit it does tone down the general powerful flow of the water a bit. I was happy with the results. I may need a bit darker filter if I want longer exposures.

I could see rain coming down Moraine Park and decided to pack up and head for the car. Mark had wandered downstream under the bridge, exploring. When I got to water's edge, there were several female elk at the edge of the woods, grazing, and a minor elk jam had developed by my car. I took a few shots, but it was cloudy and the focal length was long and hard to hold still enough. They didn't turn out.

One lady was jogging up the trail by the river with her MP3 player in her ears. I wondered how long it would be before she noticed the elk, which were in and around the trail ahead of her. She stopped about 20 yards from them -- mostly because she had come upon those of us shooting photos. She said "boy, I must've really been in 'the zone'. I almost ran in to them." Indeed.

We decided to head into town to see if we could find a wi-fi spot to maybe send some pictures to the ladies and the kids.

We couldn't find a wi-fi spot (there are some, we just weren't successful) and ended up going thruogh a few shops. There was a dress at some Tibetan shop we both thought Cami would love (and look awesome in) but not in her size. We went through a photo gallery/art shop (nice stuff, but neither one of us can afford original art or limited edition prints, really) and some T-Shirt shop. Finally, we ended up at Grubsteak and had a few beers while we downloaded pictures from the cards to the hard drive and got a better look at them, and it started to rain.

I'd called Vicki from the grocery store parking lot the day before to see how Mom's surgery had gone. It had apparently gone well. Her heart was now beating normally, but she was tired and recovering. I got a call from Vicki right there in the restaruant bar, she wanted to know how to get to her email via the web and a couple of other things. The remnants of a tropical storm had worked its way up through Oklahoma, Kansas, Nebraska, Wisconson, Northern Illinois, and Northern Indiana, and had deluged Fort Wayne (not Columbia, though, and dang it, we needed it!) But it had managed to flood the rain gutter by the windshield of Vicki's Taurus, run down the cabin air filter and leave 2" of water on the passenger front seat floorboard. Lovely. That'll need attention when she gets back.

It was raining here off and on, too.

We went to Bob & Tony's Pizza because it just smelled so good, then headed back to camp. The rain let up a bit, and Rita joined us again for another nice evening by the campfire. This would be our last night in 158. Someone else had it reserved for Friday and we needed to move to 156 (by the bathrooms, blech! Too much light and traffic. ) But we got 158 for 5 nights. We should be happy with that, and happy just to be here. We were.

Thursday night ended up being a fairly stormy night. It probably rained the better part of two hours, with moderate wind. You could hear the gusts coming through the trees down the valley before they hit and started the tents flapping and breathing. I had brought seam sealer for our identical virgin tents, and we had had ample time to apply it through the week. It really only takes about 5 minutes.

But did we?

Uh, no. I was woken up at one point by a drop of water on my cheek. I quickly convinced myself that it was a fluke, and there would be few more if any. Mostly because I was tired and didn't want to do anything about it, not because I really thought that was the case.

Another drop insisted that it was a problem, and after two more I sat up and dug for the seam sealer. I wasn't sure how well it would work on a wet tent, but I decided to try. I took my towel and ran it down the seam above me, then quckly followed it with a swipe of seam sealer. I rubbed it up and down the seam a few times and repeated the process with the other four.

It seemed to do the trick. I hoped Mark wasn't getting too wet. You never know. His might be perfectly fine. And I didn't hear any cursing from his tent.

Rita

more Wednesday, Aug 22

We went into Estes Park to get something at the grocery store. Oh yes, that's right, I went to see if I could find a regular knee brace. We went into Walgreens and bought some more local beer and a bottle of ibuprofen. Then back to the campsite where we bought some wood for a campfire, and I think some ice cream cones and ice, and went back for a proper camp.

A woman who had camped in site 154 behind us the night before had moved to 160, just a little to the north. I remembered my solo RMNP trip of 2005, and how after a couple of nights alone I wouldn't have minded (at all!) a little campfire comradorie -- or a reason at all to have a fire and stay up past dark, and I was considering inviting her over when I saw her wandering our way with her own beer. Mark had beaten me to it. Good!

Her name was Rita, and she was an artist participating in a contest in Estes Park that week called "Paint the Parks". (Turns out she has a website with a gallery. I really love her aspens!) A pleasant, down-to-earth, happily independent woman, she was good company. Mark cooked up some of his salami and a spicy dirty rice dish with pepperoini -- which we shared. We talked about everything and nothing at all, my favorite kind of conversation, joking, telling short snippets of life stories, and keeping the fire going -- well into the night.

It had rained a bit off and on that evening, almost threatening to drive us into the tents a couple of times, but it would quickly slack off, and after an hour or so seemed to be gone for good.

I roasted a few marshmallows, which nobody else seemed to be particularly interested in... I do like doing a few any time I'm camping, especially when it's cool, and it had cooled off quite a bit with the rain.

Mark had gotten his mandolin out, and I my backpacker guitar... but we're both relatively shy when it comes to "performing" (that means someone else is listening) and we didn't play much. I think I got through ahem, "singing" Farewell Andromeda and that's about it other than some light background picking. Which is fun, too.

Generally when you stay up late at night talking and especially if any alcohol is involved at all (not a necessary ingredient but certainly a catlyst) Mark's switch will turn "on" and off-the-wall humor ensues. Fortunately, Rita didn't seem too easily frightened and seemed to enjoy the schtick. We all did.

As it got late, we all decided to turn in. Rita had a breakfast and more of the Paint The Parks event to deal with, and of course... we had more RMNP to go play in. It's always best to start early out there in the summertime... or any time, really.

Trail Ridge Road

Wednesday, Aug 22

I had half expected to wake up Wednesday morning with a gigantic, very stiff and very sore -- right knee. But it turns out my suspicions from the day before were correct. It wasn't that kind of injury. I somehow strained that ligament, but as long as I was on the ibuprofen, further activity -- including activity that involved some minor discomfort, wasn't doing any more damage. Still, I should be careful with it.

Now Mark is not a fan of heights, but he did want to come on vacation with me and he knows I am a fan of heights. I'm a tundra junkie. The land above the trees I call God's Country. It seems other-worldly, the views are fantastic, you are where relatively few people ever get to go, and the views are incredible. (Did I mention the views? Somehow I don't think I got that in there enough.) You really (or I do, anyway) feel like you're someplace extra special. Plus, if you subscribe to the Heaven is UP theory -- I suppose it actually would be closer to the creator.

I had spent most of the previous day in God's Country, but that was different. There wasn't much time to dawdle and enjoy it. Yesterday was a rare day in that I had a goal that superceded pure enjoyment. This would not be the case for the rest of the week. At first I thought "let's find another set of lakes", but I know myself. I changed my mind before we got out of the campground. We're going up Trail Ridge while the weather is nice.

As we wound our way up, Mark didn't think switchbacks were as bad as he'd thought before. But from driving with Vicki who suffers from a bit less severe case of the same ailment -- I knew that it was because we were still below the treeline and the trees provide a sense of comfort; a psuedo guard rail.

We pulled up to the first overlook with a restroom (rrrrring! hello? this is your morning coffee calling. yeah, we're all done in here, mmmkay?) There were a couple of vehicles parked paralell in the 90 degree parking places, taking way too many up. But we found a free one. It was some cyclists' accompanying vehicles. A couple of them were sitting on the rock rail overlooking part of Horseshoe park, talking. From the conversation I could tell they knew they were parked wrong. "Other people park that way." In my head I said "that doesn't mean you should."

Took a couple of tourist moment pictures and moved on. The trees got shorter and shorter and more tortured looking, and we were in the tundra. Before long we were at the Forest Canyon overlook.

We knew before we left the plains that there was construction on Trail Ridge Road, and that it was closed from 10pm to 6am daily, with 1 hour delays possible during the day. We shot some more pictures and enjoyed the veiws from the overlook, and we could see the traffic backed up and the road construction from there.

Mark wanted to reach the summit of some decently high mountain, and I had suggested Sundance (~12,200 feet) since it's about a half mile walk to the top from Trail Ridge Road. I could see a trail leading up from the east side, but it was a bit of a hike from here to the trail head and Mark's blisters were still healing and I was taking it easy on my knee today. I knew there was another trailhead at the Rock Cut area by those restrooms.

We waited until traffic started to move, hopped in the car, and got at the end of the line. We were at Rock Cut in no time.

We hiked to the top of the mountain. It was quite a bit different from the last time I'd done this. There was still snow, it was windy, and a storm was blowing in two years ago. Today it was sunny with relatively light wind (for Trail Ridge Road, that is), and more crowded. We took pictures from the top and I tried to figure out if I could see the point in old Fall River Road where I ended my FRR hike two years ago (well, where I turned around, actually). I thought I could pick out the spot. There was a family there with kids about 8-12 years old. The girl was wearing a spaghetti strap top and had very fair skin. They'd hiked up there and were climbing on the rocks. They were taking trip photos of their stuffed animal. And I noticed she was starting to get pink. We mentioned to the mother that there's quite a bit more UV radiation up here. We're almost halfway up in the atmosphere, going by mass (there's that meteorology degree talking again).

Mark had grabbed sunscreen before he left home and thrown it in his back, but later found out it was baby sunscreen. Strong. But it made you smell like... well -- a fresh baby. He offered it to the mother, but the daughter nixed the idea when she found out about the baby smell.

There was another construction backup further down the road, and we used the same strategy. We soaked in the sights until the traffic started to move, and hopped in the car. We wanted to go to the visitor's center and gift shop -- plus Mark had seen the Lava Cliffs from a distance and asked what they were. We were going to drive pretty much right up to them.

Mark was impressed with the cliffs, read the informational sign, and we took pictures of a snowmelt pond at its base with some snow left in it and around it. And on to the gift shop.

There's a nice area in the visitor's center that tells you about the alpine plants and wildlife and why they do what they do and when they do it. I made note of a quote from a book "The Land Above the Trees" that I liked so I could buy it later. (Hey, I said I'm a tundra junkie.)

Oh, the quote was:

"... where the sky is the size of forever and the flowers are the size of a millisecond."

Just in case you haven't yet picked up on how I feel about this land above the trees. ;-)

We took some Brits' photograph and they took ours in front of the gift shop. They were kind of funny. I remember the lady who was voted by the rest to use the camera to take our picture was all "ready.... steady..... wait... did it take the picture?"

I said of course not, you never said "Go!". It's "Ready, Steady, Go!" -- I was teasing of course. She ended up taking two.

We also saw the mother and kids from Sundance Mountain's summit. They were now duely doused in sunscreen. And didn't smell like babies.

Mark bought Cassie & Q some ranger hats and a shot glass for Cami. I got us a gold-plated aspen leaf Christmas ornament, and back at the visitors' center I bought my pewter Longs Peak USGS marker replica, my trophy for reaching the top yesterday.

I thought about heading down to the Colorado Valley where the headwaters of the Colorado River lie and maybe check out the Timber Creek campground for a possible future visit. It's a first come, first serve camp ground. I'd seen pictures... it looks mostly wooded. My attitude is that I can camp in pine trees in Missouri. I'm a fan of the Moraine Park campground and its views. Unfortunately for me, I'm far from being alone on that.

We decided against that and started heading back the way we came, but we quickly ran into an "Elk Jam". And I don't mean when a bunch of people get together with their musical instruments at your local Elks Club. Of course, Elk Jams are common in our national parks, but people should really watch themselves on Trail Ridge Road. There's no shoulder, and they just stop. There were construction vehicles and sections of one-way traffic on the road. About 50 elk dotted the tundra beneath the road. Finally enough people moved that we could get a few hundred yards ahead to the Forest Canyon overlook parking area, where we parked -- and get this -- walked back to the area where the Elk were. See, park in the parking lot (since there's no shoulder) and walk. Then you're not blocking anyone's progress.

I really needed my tripod or monopod for this since I put my teleconverter on my big lens to transform it into a 600mm equivalent. It was getting cloudy, so my options for high shutter speed and low film speed were getting limited. Plus without the sunshine the colors and contrast just weren't that good. But you know, you see that much wildlife and you want to give it a try. Well you do if you're me, anyway.

After the Elk we decided it was time to head back. Mark loves the camping part of camping, and we really hadn't done much of that yet. It'd be nice to sit around a fire, pick a few tunes, cook some meat, roast a few marshmallows, toss back a drink or two, and relax.

We went into Estes Park and picked up a few things at the grocery store (this time I picked up the right bottle and actually got ibuprofen) and headed back to the campsite.

A Little Scale

I found a picture of the southwest side of Longs that gives a nice perspective of things. First I noted that I should be able to find "The Hearse" in it, and I'm pretty sure I did. Looks different from looking down at it, for sure. The next striking thing is just how "up" the Homestretch is, and the narrows is clearly visible. The trough is behind the ridge that runs down from left center to the left.

Anyway, interesting. Click on it, as usual, for a larger view.

The Longs Peak Climb Video

I did this with the movie software that comes with windows. I tried to time some of the picture changes to the music, and it worked most of the time. It actually worked all of the time before I saved it as a movie file, but the movie file itself had some places where it didn't change in the same spot it changed when the project was loaded in the program. It's mostly a slideshow with a couple of video clips in it... because that's all I took. It probably would have worked better with software I actually had to pay extra for. The sound cuts are rough, but I didn't want to spend too much time on it with the limited software I had access to.

The song is a cut from Alan Parsons Project, from the album Gaudi, called "Higher Ground". It just seemed to fit.

The Longest Day, Part III

Way above it all

yet more Tuesday, Aug 21

The top of Longs Peak is pretty flat, and roughly the size of a football field. One boulder sticks up about 4' higher than the rest of the top, and that's where the USGS marker is. I stood on top, and a couple of guys who had just climbed up the diamond face(!) using climbing gear offered to take my picture. That's the way it is. Everybody is more than willing to help anybody else out, and favors are gladly returned. I took their picture as well.

It was nice to have something besides my cell phone camera this time, as opposed to my Elbert climb last fall.

One thing about this whole trip did -- the whole vacation and especially my climbing experience, was to help restore some of my wavering faith in people. That I'm right, there are still a significant number of decent people with priorities beyond the whole in-your-face cultural attitude epitomized by most hip-hop, or the brooding self-absorbtion of a lot of the counter-culture I see, or just the blatant self-absorbtion of the Paris Hilton/Brittany Spears junkies. I saw people genuinely taking care not to litter, even to the point of quietly cleaning up after others, taking care to make sure others were alright. Offering encouragement and assistance, and courtesy and all the things that make mankind noble and good. Not only were they concerned with each other's physical well-being, they were taking care not to spoil anyone else's experience. Even in the campsites. You miss that following the news or popular TV reality shows or reading the newspaper. At least the people who come out here to do this still have a good part of that inside them.

I started at 2:15 am, and got to the top of the homestretch, essentially the summit, about 9 hours and 10 minutes later, at least an hour longer than typical. I knew it would take me longer than your typical avid climber, especially since I planned on taking a substantial number of photographs. That being said, I didn't take nearly as many as I might have. I had to rest a lot, and the going in general was slower due to the lack of oxygen.

Part of this is because I had only been "at altitude" (which I consider to be 8,000+ ft) since Saturday evening... two days and two and a half nights. Part of it was the decision to carry camera equipment and extra water (since I wasn't sure exactly where and if water would be available)... and part of it was my knee.

Speaking of the knee, it was about the same at the top. The Ace bandage was coming off, and I decided it wasn't making much difference. I eventually took it off and put it in my pocket so I wouldn't lose it. First, though, I noted the names on the register of the folks who lent it to me. They said they were staying down at the Longs Campground in site #2.

The wind was relatively light compared to my Mt Elbert experience. It was sunny, and probably about 50 degress. That was a good thing. I needed to rest, and I needed to eat. I don't think I took enough high-energy food with me, and I wasn't eating enough of it along the way because of that. I ate the celebratory Mountain Goat bar (basically a health-food peanut-butter/oatmeal "brownie". It was "ok" tasting.) I ate more trail mix, more cranberries, and the what was left of the jerky, and drank water. I emptied my first hydration bladder at the top. 3 qts down, two to go. But I did have my water filter.

I signed the register and took a 360 degree video from the top. The immediate area above 12,000 feet or so was clear, but below that it was hazy from forest fires in western Colorado and Wyoming, so the view wasn't all that one might hope. But it was still spectacular (I know, I keep using that word but I can't think of a more fitting one).

I talked a bit with the two Diamond Face climbers. They asked if I came the Keyhole route, and I said "yes". They said "oh, you took the long way, then." They talked about the Loft Route, which I had read about. I had taken the Keyhole route because it is the only one that's ever rated non-technical (after the snow and ice is gone, and if it's not too windy). I asked what was technical about the Loft route -- what the difference was, and they mentioned a long scramble over a bunch of loose rock. Which sounded a lot like the trough to me. Then they said there was a ledge that led up to the trough. My guess is that to two people who just scaled the diamond face, they might consider a much more treacherous route to be a good enough "ledge" than I would. Still, it might be worth checking out. If it requires ropes and a knowledge of rock climbing, it's out as far as I'm concerned.

My GPS said that I had covered 9.48 miles, which surprised me since I had read it was 8. Maybe I zig-zaged over the boulders more than some, and perhaps did a bit of backtracking on the ledges... plus I had walked a bit on the top. Still, that shouldn't make ~1.5 miles difference.

I also calibrated my altimeter watch, which was a good 80 feet off (not surprising since it really just goes on barometric pressure changes from the last calibration) -- to the official height of the mountain, 12,255 feet. Of course, I had to take a picture of that, too. I'm a geek, what can I say?

I walked toward the edge of the top to the northeast to see if I could look down at the diamond face, but I really couldn't see it and I didn't feel like scrambling down any to get a better look.

In all I spent about an hour at the top, and I knew there was no getting down by 4:00 or 4:30. I hoped for 5:30 or 6:00. It should be easier going on the way down and I won't have to rest as much.

I went over the lip and down the homestretch at about 12:30 pm.

Going Down

The homestretch is about as tedious going down as it is going up. I did do a lot of sliding on my rear and legs (on purpose). And unfortunately you bend your knee at least as much going down as you do going up, so that didn't seem to be helping. It took almost as long to decend as to ascend.

I figured Mark would be ok until about 6:00, and I knew he might start getting concerned after that. But there was really nothing I could do. He didn't have a cell phone, and even if he did he likely wouldn't get reception -- at least not often. You do get some in the Moraine Park campground in spots. And I'd have to be a bit closer to get the reception I would need to call him anyway. I knew there was a good chance I'd get some once I was at the foot of Mt. Lady Washington's peak. But I didn't even bring the Walkie Talkies since their range is only about 2 miles and it was farther than that from any point in my hike to the campground.

The narrows seemed to take longer going back. It is generally up hill, but not steep at all. It's all the climbing over obstacles and ... if you don't watch the dots you can get off the trail and have to backtrack. On top of that I think the knee was bothering me a little more, so I was relying heavily on the hiking pole and picking my spots carefully. And I was fully aware that you need to be even more careful when you're tired. It took a half an hour to get back to the top of the trough. Probably another hour to an hour and 15 minutes to get to the bottom of the trough (well, technically the bottom is way farther down glacier gorge, but I mean where the trough meets the ledges. The bottom as far as my climb is concerned.) I do remember thinking I was at the ledges but still had probably 100 yards to go down. I got off the trail a bit and I noticed a man down below where I needed to be.

I backtracked and wound my way down to him. He was looking for his son who had gone on to the top. I couldn't recall seeing anybody who fit his description, but I didn't see anyone in trouble on my way down. I told him about how long it was to the top and said he'll probably be just fine ... it'll just be a while.

On my way down the trough, I found what I thought was a bit of litter. It turned out to be a packet of some sort of liquid energy bar jelly, with "all the electrolytes of a sports drink". It was a bit beat up and dirty, but still sealed. There was nobody anywhere near that it might have belonged to, so I picked it up for later as well as to remove the litter from the mountain.

The ledges also seemed to take forever. I made it back to the keyhole right about 4:00 pm. 3 and a half hours from the top. A half hour longer than it had taken me to ascend.

At this point, you think you're home free. And with a good knee, that's probably true. But the decent from the keyhole to the boulderfield was painful. It was time for that last dose of ibuprofen. Only I ran out of water before I got to the keyhole. I needed to make it down to boulder brook to get more. It probably took me half an hour.

I asked around the boulderfield campsite about the couple from Minneapolis and site #2 so I could return the Ace bandage. The campers said they weren't numbered. Then I remembered it wasn't the boulder field camp ground where they were staying, it was down at the bottom at the Longs Peak campground.

I found a spot in the boulders where you could get down to the brook running beneath/through them, and filtered water into one of my empty hydration bladders. Ate a little more trail mix, cleaned the energy bar jelly packet and consumed it, took the ibuprofen, and continued across the boulders.

I passed several hikers going in either direction. Some taking short hikes from the boulderfield campsite. Some coming down the mountain. Some that had just come up to the boulder field and Chasm Lake. It occurred to me then I still had about 6 miles to go, and it was pushing 5:30.

I was thankful to get off the boulders and onto something of a regular trail where there weren't so many objects to step over. My pace was as quick as I dared, but my legs were tired. This means you don't pick your feet up as high as you should, and you're sloppier putting them down. They can easily hit a rock at an awkward angle and twist and bend in ways they're not designed for, or hit a rock smaller than your fist that rolls and you slip. If it weren't for the hiking pole not only would my knees have taken a beating but I'd likely have sprained both ankles many times over.

The only pictures I took on the way down were some scrubby trees at the treeline, because... well I'm just fascinated by the treeline and the sunlight was good. Mostly, I was bent on getting down, returning the ace bandage, going into town for more ibuprofen, ice, and an ace bandage of my own. Getting back to camp. Eating. Going to bed.

Even at that it was a good hour to the treeline, and another hour to the bottom. Way faster than the way up, but not nearly fast enough for me. I did manage to call Vicki from somewhere above the treeline so at least someone would know I was ok. Standing still was difficult. My leg muscles were quivering from low blood sugar. Just another reason not to stop moving any more than necessary.

Mom's surgery was tomorrow as well adding to the list of reasons to do this climb today. If, God forbid, anything went wrong I might be speeding back home Wednesday or Thursday. Hopefully not. Probably not. Just hearing her voice and talking to her lifted my spirits a bit, and I snapped the phone shut and moved on.

I did get one shot of a waterfall on the way down and accidentally (due to the low light) almost got that silky water effect as the camera chose a shutter speed of just over 1/10 second. I'm surprised I held the camera still enough. The rocks have a slight blur to them, but for a hand-held 1/10 shutter speed shot, I was impressed when I later saw it at home.

The last hour seemed like two. I figured I was the last one on the trail coming down, and I was coming down through mountain lion territory at dusk... prime hunting time. Tired, lone hikers probably make pretty easy pickings. I paid triple attention, planning to use my hiking pole as a weapon if necessary, but I knew in the end I probably wouldn't hear a cat attack coming. I mean... they're cats! The diamond face climbers passed me, and I realized there were probably others behind me as well... so I felt a little better. I passed a man and his young sons who said they were hiking up to the Goblins Forest campground which I had just passed on the last switchback. They said I had over a mile to go. Which was not encouraging. I figured I had less than half that distance to go. Unfortunately, they were right.

I got to the bottom at 7:30 pm, 3 hours late as far as I was concerned. But it felt good. I signed out, checked the "yes" box to the "did you get there" question, and noted that around 30 people had signed in that day. Got in the car, returned the ace bandage and thanked them profusely. I went into town to get the supplies I mentioned above (plus a snickers bar and a quart of Ben and Jerry's New York Super Fudge Chunk) and headed back to camp.

I got there at 8:30pm, right before Mark was about to head to the Rangers station to register his concern. He had already eaten. We ate the ice cream. I put ice on my knee, and took ibuprofen (I had to take my last 4 from my dop kit because it turned out I picked up the wrong bottle at the store -- it was tylenol, and I really needed ibuprofen). We talked a bit, but I was beat. We turned in for the night.