Road Trip 2012, Part Three - Rocky Mountains

July 15th, we checked out of Kokopelli, left Moab, and headed towards Grand Junction, CO, to spend the afternoon downtown and then drop Andrew off at the airport for a flight back to Texas. 

Satisfied that I could drive his truck (When do you use 4-low?  Okay, let's say you're going down a steep hill and the tires begin to slide, and there's a deer on the road, and your shoes are covered in slime, and there's a bee in the cab, and..), he returned to work and we set off on the Colorado leg of our trip.

  

We drove east through Glenwood Springs, Gypsum, Avon and Vail towards Silverthorne where we would stay for the night. 

Very pretty

Silverthorne



The next day, we said goodbye to the plush king bed and indoor pool and headed towards camp at Rocky Mountain National Park.  We drove into the park on Trail Ridge Rd., eager to secure a camping spot for the night. 

Up on that windswept alpine world, conditions resemble those found in the Canadian or Alaskan Arctic. It's normally windy and 20 to 30 degrees colder than Estes Park or Grand Lake. The sun beats down with high- ultraviolet intensity. The vistas, best enjoyed from one of several marked road pullovers, are extravagant, sweeping north to Wyoming, east across the Front Range cities and Great Plains, south and west into the heart of the Rockies.

A common camping problem is that many sites are secured on a first-come basis, meaning they fill up quickly and you are often out of luck come mid afternoon.  However, despite the series of "campsite full" signs we passed, I tried my luck driving up to the ranger station and managed to reserve a camping spot in the (I am told) popular Moraine Park Campground.

The lady ranger was very concerned for our safety. "We've had two reports of bear intrusions; one tore up someones truck trying to get food, and the other ransacked an RV.  If you leave anything in your truck, be sure to cover it with a blanket, these bears are smart!". 

By "anything", I assumed she meant my cooler and snack box and not my expensive new Turquoise bracelet and iPad.  Armed with a 6x5 tent that could withstand winds of up to 2.4 mph, a pocket knife from Andrew's Good Stuff box, and a deflated sleeping mat, I felt very secure and slept like a baby.  Wind on a tent fly sounds very similar to how I imagine a sneaky (and very smart) bear might sound as it sniffs around your tent for the slightest scent of a biscuit crumb, or a stick of strawberry lip balm.

Our campsite looked out onto forested area. 

Realizing this was perfect bear habitat, I turned our tent to face the other way.

Once settled, with our flighty tent secured with the weight of everything from the truck bed, we headed out to hike to Bear Lake, Nymph Lake, and Dream Lake. 







Mary now had a thirst for Junior Ranger badges so she was incredibly excited to learn that the park had it's very own Junior Ranger "Headquarters".  We spent the rest of the afternoon there, learning how to identify trees.  I suggested they organize a class on how to defend yourself against an intruding bear.  The ranger giggled, and so did I for good humor, but I wasn't really joking.



Mary completed her activities and passed her oral exam (Would you ever feed a deer?  No, never.  Would you ever chase a squirrel?  Never, that's mean.  What piece of litter did you pick up?  It was a piece of plastic - an animal could have choked on it, so I put it in the trashcan.) 

She said the pledge and received her shiny, golden plastic badge.

That evening, we ate at the Sunset Cafe in Estes Park.  That night, it rained on and off and I convinced myself that bears didn't like getting their fur all wet.

Tuesday, we packed up camp and took a two hour horse ride to Fern Lake.  Fiddling with my stirrups, I overheard the teenage guides talking amongst themselves.  I managed to hear that "they didn't realize it would be a kid" and that Izzy "isn't really good with kids".  Then I watched as they put my 8 year old on Izzy and instructed her to stay behind the lead.  My horse liked his personal space so I got to ride at the very back. 

Mary rode very well and even managed to keep the line straight as the guide came back to help me persuade my horse (we didn't bond so I don't remember my horse's name) to come out from the trees where she took me for a graze.  My horse was tired and reminded me often that she had been this route many times and knew all the yummy spots.  She also knew the quickest route home.  

 

It's been many years since I was a frequent rider and I developed butt-ache somewhere around here. 

  

We ate lunch at the Rocky Mountain Opry restaurant, and then set off for Boulder. 

The Rocky Mountains are impressive.  Photos are nice, but etched into my long term memory is my physical reaction to turning the corner and seeing these immense, jagged, slate colored, snowed patched mountains with hidden forests and lakes.  A stark contrast to the red rocks of Utah.