Travelogue

At this point it was just barreling along the interstate listening to books on tape. As the afternoon light got low, Lolo started to propose a few camping options for the night. Since it was Sunday, traffic was not an issue, but I realized that come Monday morning, traveling though St. Louis during rush hour would not be prudent. Hence we decided on a campsite close to the highway, after passing through St Louis.

Cedarbrook RV Park is a nice little family campground, but when I arrived all I could think of was getting the rig plugged in so I could relax in air conditioning and get out of the oppressive heat and humidity. While enjoying the A/C and listening to my light jazz I could see through my windows, the largest horseflies that I have ever seen. Not being sure if they also liked to bite campers, I remained in the RV till the morning departure.

Description

Cedarbrook RV Park is conveniently located 1 mile off I70 in southwestern Illinois. Amenities include free Wi Fi, a general store, a swimming pool, and a lake for boating and fishing.

Travelogue

Since I had driven west via route 80, I thought it would be good to return via 70. This would also give me the option to visit my brother-in-law in Ohio and add some variety to the return leg.

Kansas is one of the few states that actually let RV's camp for free in their interstate highway rest areas. That fact, and the flatness of the road makes it easy to just use cruise control and head down the highway until it's time to settle down for the night.

I pulled into the rest area at mile marker 187 with about 45 minutes before sunset and got myself a cold beer. After a few sunset photos of the campsite (alas lost), I noticed 2 guys on big touring motorcycles settling down at another picnic table. Since I have always thought about crossing the country on my own motorcycle (a 1996 Honda ST1100), I walked over with a gift of a few cold beers to try and find out their story.

I learned that they were a little older than me, and had recently retired. One was a former policeman, and the other an airplane pilot. They had left from their homes in Kentucky, ridden west and were now on the return leg back home. They were just stretching their legs in the rest area before the final 2 hour ride to their motel reservation in Topeka. We got to talking about bikes, travels, and dreams of what you want to do once you've retired.

Just as I was going to excuse myself, I got an offer I couldn't refuse. "Have you ever had any genuine Kentucky moonshine?" said the former airline pilot as he pulled a mason jar half filled with a clear liquid from his saddlebag. Now I didn't want to refuse his hospitality, but I think he could see that I might be a bit reluctant to dive into the home-brew of a stranger without a little more understanding. He assured me that while you might go blind from drinking the "bad stuff", this was high quality as evidenced by the clearness of the liquid. As a final proof he took out a few dixie cups and proceeded to pour all of us a tall shot.

After finishing my drink (which was actually quite smooth, despite it's obvious high proof), and maybe another, I wobbled back the 200' to my rig wondering how these guys were going to make it to Topeka on their bikes. I was comforted the next day when I heard nothing about any motorcycle accidents on the morning news.

Description

Rest area at mile marker 187 in Kansas along I70.

Travelogue

After saying our good-byes and dropping Lolo off at the airport, I was once again a solo traveler.

I had no plans at this point, and wasn't really sure what I should do next. Between the mixed feelings of Lolo and the boys' departure, and the lack of a restful sleep at the Flying J, I didn't think I was capable of making any major decisions. In fact, I didn't even want any minor decisions, so I pointed the RV to the nearest Walmart and settled down for an attempt at a few hours sleep.

Between the morning sun, and the rumbling of diesel trucks any sleep I achieved was fitful at best.

I was torn. I could head down to the desert southwest and once again enjoy some of the most incredibly beautiful natural attractions in the world.... Or, as Lolo had mentioned, if I started back east within a few days I would still be able to help Andrew and Lolo move into Andrew's new apartment in New Haven. I knew they could do it without me,,, but also that there would be quite a few issues where my presence would be appreciated.

I split the difference, and found Chatfield State Park a few hours south where I would rest and regroup. The park was fine, but unfortunately I have no photos. (All photos from this point on were lost when I inadvertently synchronized the photos with the home server in the wrong direction. By the time I found out, even the previous backups were overwritten. Since then I've changed my backup methodology.)

After a few days rest I realized I had reached that point in the trip where there were no really compelling choices. To continue onto the Grand Canyon, or Lake Powell as a solo traveler would only have stirred up the "ghosts" of the previous trips there I had shared with my family. Anything I could do by myself at this point would pale in comparison.

Also Lolo had continued to "hint" that it might be nice if I could help with Andrew's move into New Haven.

It was not without considerable ambivalence that I once again pointed our Lazy Daze east, and headed back to my role as a responsible spouse and father.

Description

Chatfield State Park is a 400-acre state park nestled next to the foothills, an hour southwest of Denver. The park surrounds Chatfield Reservoir, which the Army Corps of Engineers created by damming the South Platte River in response to the disastrous flood of 1965.

The lake has several marinas and four campgrounds, each within walking distance to the lake. Activities in the park include boating, bicycling, hiking, and horseback riding.

Travelogue

Not much to say here. Spirits pretty glum. Just a place to sleep before the 5:00 am drop-off at the airport in the morning. So sad...

Description

Flying J's are Travel Plazas that cater to truckers and RV's. Their numerous services include gas, a dump stations, propane, fast food restaurant, limited groceries, and even showers and a barber shop. However, the best feature of all is the RV section that allows overnight parking.

They are conveniently located on most of the interstates (except for the East Coast)

Travelogue

Lolo with Jeep Liberty on Deer Creek RoadWe awoke to cloudy skies. Fortunately, we had had such glorious days for our hikes. Today was pretty much just a driving day anyway, but, unfortunately, we still had not decided just where we were driving to or what we wanted to do.

Herb came up with the idea of renting a jeep to go off-roading. This was not exactly a moment of playful spontaneity, but something he had been plotting over the long cold, wet winter and spring in New Jersey, when there is often nothing better to do than dream of better times. I would frequently catch him ogling Jeep Wranglers on his computer—as if we needed another toy in the driveway. He even purchased a Guide to Colorado Backroads & 4-Wheel-Drive Trails. Well, this would be something new, so I was in.

We stopped to inquire about jeep rentals at both the National Park visitor center and the one in Grand Lake. Neither had much information to offer about jeeping opportunities in the nearby vicinity, so as soon as we got cell phone coverage, Herb used his droid phone to Google “Colorado jeep rentals”. One of the first entries that came up was Mountain High Jeep Rentals in Breckenridge. hmm...Breckenridge. I could deal with that.

While Herb called the jeep rental place, I called Tiger Run RV Resort and booked a spot for the night. Tiger Run, which we had been to twice in the past, is not your typical campground, but more of an RV land for the rich and famous, with million dollar RVs on sites with manicured lawns, a 12,000 square foot clubhouse, complete with indoor swimming pool, two hot tubs, game room, and TV lounge, and magnificent view of snow-capped mountains from every site. If the weather didn’t improve, at least I knew we could plop our butts in the hot tub for the afternoon.

Lolo inspecting steep hill to Saints JohnHerb had a little less luck with Mountain High Rentals. There were no Jeep Wranglers available for tomorrow, but they did have a Jeep Liberty we could rent. Herb was a little disappointed because he really wanted to try out a Wrangler to see if it was something he would consider purchasing in the future, but figured the Liberty would at least get us out there to see if we even liked four-wheeling. So we reserved the Liberty and arranged to pick it up 8:30 the next morning.

Now that we had our plan in place for tomorrow, we felt better about just meandering our way down to Breckenridge. We stopped in the town of Grand Lake just to see what it was like, because someone we met back in Boulder told us how much they preferred it to the overcrowded and over-touristy Estes Park. It definitely was a lot quieter and quainter, but I have to say that I really kind of liked the liveliness and vibrancy of Estes Park

We continued on Route 34 south to the town of Granby and then on 40 south to Winter Park. We considered mountain biking on one of the many trails in Winter Park, but the weather was pretty gloomy and it was starting to drizzle. So, we continued on through Berthoud Pass down to I70 west. It was while driving on I70 that are two GPSs started to argue—that’s right two GPSs. Herb likes to use the navigation tool on his droid phone in addition to the GPS we have on the dash. I refer to them as his two girlfriends (actually I have a worse word for them). Both of them started spouting different directions: one said to continue on I70 until Route 9 while the other one insisted that we get off earlier on Route 6. In confusion, Herb pulled onto the median by the exit ramp for Route 6. It wasn’t long before a state trooper pulled over as well. When we explained to him about the disagreeing GPSs, he sort of rolled his eyes, told us an anecdote about his elderly father and a GPS, and strongly suggested that we turn both of them off and just continue along until Route 9. We thanked him and continued on our way, but rather than turn the GPSs off as suggested, Herb just gave the erring one a good scolding. We arrived at Tiger Run without any further disagreements between the girls.

By now the weather was really lousy—cold and damp—so any thoughts about biking the trail into the village were forgotten. If this had been our first time to Breckenridge, we would have felt compelled to do so, but fortunately, we were seasoned visitors to the area and felt no need to force the situation. Instead we sat in the hot tub while doing three loads of laundry. The weather in Colorado is so changeable--not just between places, but even time of day. Herb loves hot weather, which we fortunately had for the past week, but now, here we were bundled up in jeans and jackets barbequing our salmon in the rain. Hopefully, tomorrow would be better for our big jeep adventure.

Lolo approaching "virtual" geocache at Wild Irishman MineWe spent the evening poring over the Guide to Colorado Backroads & 4-Wheel-Drive Trails book to figure out where to go tomorrow. The trails in the book were rated similarly to the way ski trails are rated: green circles for easy, blue squares for intermediate, and red (rather than black) for suicidal. We kind of got our hearts set on doing the Deer Creek, Saint Johns loop up near the town of Montezuma. It was rated blue and described as having it all: stunning scenery, historic buildings, and real adventure. We tried to ignore the sentence about not recommended for novice drivers.

The next morning, we got up bright and early, all excited about our big adventure. Our first task was finding the rental place, whose address was 620 Village Road. We expected to find a shack with a parking lot full of jeeps; instead we kept circling the very developed, multi-storied buildings of the Beaver Run Resort. There were no jeeps in sight. This was not the quaint little Breckenridge that I had come to love. This was commercialism and tourism at its peak. We called our rental guy, who gave us a paragraph long set of directions for navigating our way through the complex. By the time we finally found him we were exhausted and somewhat embarrassed. If we couldn’t find the rental office, how were we supposed to survive in the wilderness.

We spent the next half hour reading and signing forms and going over the rules of the road. The gentleman strongly suggested we stay on the green trails, so we kept quiet about our real plans for the “not recommended for novice drivers” blue one. We were then passed over to another guy, whose job it was to lead us through the maze to the garage where our Jeep Liberty was parked and to explain the workings of the vehicle. He was much nicer, so we approached him with our plan for the day, and he said we should be just fine on that trail. He had just been on it the day before.

As we drove on regular roads to get to the trailhead in the town of Montezuma, I flipped the book open to the section on how trail ratings are defined. Under the Blue Trail description, I found such phrases as: “careful tire placement may be necessary,” “sideways tilt will require caution,” “undercarriage may scrape occasionally,” “rock stacking may be necessary,” etc. Rock stacking? This was going to be some day.

Camping at Tiger RunOur rental agreement gave us 100 free miles, 42 of which were spent getting back and forth to the trailhead. That was okay, because the entire Deer Creek / Saint Johns loop was only 12.2 miles. Well, that would keep us busy for about an hour or so, we thought, counting stops for pictures, but the guide book estimated a trip duration of 4 to 5 hours, which if you do the math is less than 3 mph. I found this hard to believe. I could walk faster than that. Boy, were we naïve.

Near the Keystone Ski Area, we followed the signs for Montezuma Road, which turned into a dirt road even before we got to the town of Montezuma, population 42. The dirt road eventually led to a junction with Deer Creek to the left and Saint Johns to the right. We decided to go Deer Creek, because that was the way the guide book was oriented. Also, the beginning of the Deer Creek trail was rated green, which would give us a few miles of getting used to off-roading.

The guide book was extremely thorough in its instructions. The mileage log was given in tenths of miles traveled since the trailhead, complete with GPS coordinates, and gave a description of every turn or change in terrain. It was impossible to get lost.

After about 3 miles (and 1 hour) of bumping and bouncing over the “easy” section of trail, we came to a sharp hairpin turn where we pulled over for a fabulous view. Unfortunately, the ATVs that had sped past us earlier must have frightened away the mountain goats usually seen here, but the view was spectacular anyway. The trail got increasingly difficult, but Herb was doing great maneuvering through and over the rocks of various sizes that covered the road. I understand now why Jeeps have such high clearance and metal skid plates protecting the undercarriage, because without that we would be leaving a trail of major engine parts along the way.

As we approached the turnoff for Radical Hill (a Red Extreme trail), we encountered a Land Rover coming at us. Fortunately, we were in a spot where we could pull over a bit to the side to let it pass, because in many sections meeting up with another vehicle would require backing up for quite a distance to a spot that would allow for the width of two vehicles. The Land Rover stopped alongside us to chat. They gave us one piece of information we definitely did not want to hear, that the Saint Johns portion of the loop was impassable about a mile from its end back in Montezuma, because heavy rains had washed even more boulders into the stream that crossed the trail, making it extremely difficult, if not impossible, to cross. They said that they would have considered it, but they had forgotten to bring their “boulder bar.” Boulder bar?? The only Boulder bar I knew was Mountain Sun Brewery. I was going to have to learn an entire new set of lingo if we were going to get into this jeeping thing.

We were very thankful that they told us about this because if we had gotten all the way to the stream and had to turn back, we would have to cover 22 miles of this rather than 12.2, and we would have had to do much of it in the dark.

One piece of good news they did give us, however, was that the first section of Radical Hill was actually rated easy and brought you far enough for the incredible views before turning into a death-defying difficult trail. We decided that we would drive on a bit further to the halfway point and another good mountain goat viewing spot before turning around and retracing our steps with a side trip up Radical Hill.

We continued on in 1st gear low, which we had been in for practically the entire trip. At the trail junction for the North Fork of the Swan River, we stopped again to enjoy the view. Also Herb knew that there was a geocache hidden nearby (for an explanation, see ?) and for once there were no muggles (other normal human beings that don’t geocache) around that we had to fear embarrassing ourselves in front of while hunting for the hidden cache. We found it. Probably our highest altitude geocache to date.

Our original intention was to turn around at this point and retrace our steps. However, the road ahead looked pretty cool and a photo stop called Sheep Hill was just a mere .4 miles ahead, so we decided to continue on a little further. At this point we were at about 12,000 feet and still climbing.

While we were out of the car taking pictures, another Jeep came barreling towards us from the Saint Johns direction at the impressive speed of about 8 mph. Seriously, that is quite fast for these roads. In the Jeep, which like ours was a rental, was a mother and father and two small children. We asked them if they had come from Montezuma via the Saint Johns road and they said yes. When we asked them about the impassable stream, they said, it wasn’t too bad. Now we had a dilemma. Who to believe? The experienced Brits in the Land Rover or this young family of hot shots in a rental jeep. Since actions do speak louder than words, and these people actually did come the Saint Johns route in their rental, we figured we could do it too. Besides, we hated the idea of repeating the same route back rather than completing the loop. I must say though that I was a bit apprehensive about the idea.

We then approached a section marked in the guide book as “Steep climb. Toughest spot of trail.” They weren’t kidding. The road ahead looked so steep that I feared we would flip over. Also, it was heavily strewn with rocks of many sizes which would make it difficult for us to pick up any speed—and I use the term speed loosely. Before starting up the climb, we took the opportunity to find another geocache that someone had hidden before the steep part began.

As we started up the ridiculously steep incline, Herb asked me to videotape our ascent from the passenger seat. Before writing this, I watched the video to help me remember what it was like, and I actually laughed out loud. The rocking of the dashboard and the groans and heavy breathing coming from the two of us made it seem more like a porn movie than an off-roading adventure.

Finally, we came to a point that was so bad that Herb asked me to become a human “boulder bar,” running ahead of the Jeep moving big, inappropriately placed rocks out of its path. I was so thankful to get out of the Jeep that I didn’t even mind picking up and rolling large rocks. It seemed much safer. Herb did an amazing job keeping the Jeep upright and undamaged over this very rough, steep terrain. He looked liked he’d been through the wringer, and said that for him the experience was probably comparable to the way I felt traversing the snow on the hike to Chasm Lake—terrified. I can be a nudge sometimes and I also like to debate, so I tried to analyze the two experiences and concluded that they were not comparable, because I actually feared for my life, while Herb merely feared for the insurance claim when we damaged the Jeep. He felt that I was making a bit light of the actual physical harm that could have occurred to him if the jeep had lost traction and started sliding backwards, possibly sideways, and flipped over. Okay, point taken.

Although the guide book said the worst was behind us, there still were some pretty hairy hills to conquer, and we hadn’t even gotten to the possible impassable stream yet. Finally things calmed down a bit and we resumed our more controlled bouncing and swaying. We passed two deserted mines (one with a geocache) on our descent.

Finally, at exactly 11 miles from our start we saw a private cabin and what was likely its owner, barreling across a stream in a pickup truck before parking in the driveway. Okay, that was two people that had successfully crossed it, but both from the other direction, which was a downhill and then across rather than an across with enough momentum to get up the hill on the other side. One look at the stream kind of freaked us out. There were plenty of one to two-feet boulders in the stream, some pointing up ready to rip off the bottom of the jeep, or worse yet, get us hung up so we couldn’t continue. We spent a good half hour gathering rocks from other places to put in the stream to even it out.

After we had done all that we could, I got on the far side of the river to help yell and encourage him. I wanted to film it – if only for insurance purposes – but Herb refused and told me to just direct him across the river, because he couldn’t always see where the rocks were. I bet he regrets not having the footage now, because he was a pro.

We had done it, but I think the jury was still out as to whether this was an activity we wanted to direct our energy and finances towards. We had so many things we loved doing that we weren’t looking to add something new just for the sake of having something to do. We would have to let some time pass and digest this a bit.

In the meantime, we had time and mileage left on our rental, so we foolishly felt compelled to use it. We figured trying a green trail might be a good learning experience, so I looked through the guide and selected the nearby Keystone Gulch trail, a 7.6 one-way that was estimated to take 1 hour – wow! a highway compared to the last one.

The road was definitely much less challenging, but still bumpy enough to be unpleasant. I started questioning why we were doing this. After passing some lovely beaver ponds and crossing the ski slopes of Keystone, Herb and I both were getting antsy. I think we got the point of this 4-wheeling thing and didn’t think we wanted to spend the last few hours of our vacation together doing more of it. So, we aborted the mission after 6 miles and headed back to Breckenridge.

I think I figured out my position on jeeping. If an off-road vehicle is the only way to get to a place worth getting to, then the discomfort of bouncing around was worth it, but I didn’t want to be bounced around just for the sake of being bounced around. Herb, I think, enjoyed the “journey” a bit more, because he liked the challenge of maneuvering the jeep over difficult terrain. Maybe I should try driving it next time and see if my feelings change.

Back in Breckenridge, we brought the jeep to the fanciest fully automatic car wash I have ever experienced (car washing was required by the rental contract) and returned it to what was hopefully the correct parking spot in the Beaver Run Resort parking garage. It was already close to 6:00 and our destination that night was 2 hours away at a Flying J near the Denver airport.

We didn’t want to get to the Flying J too early, as there is not much to entertain oneself with in a parking lot, so we strolled the streets of Breckenridge looking for a place to have dinner. We selected the outdoor patio of the Whale’s Tail, which was fine, but our moods were quite glum. Neither of us was very happy with the thought of me leaving tomorrow morning. It just wasn’t the way things were supposed to be. I belonged by Herb’s side, even on the long-driving days through the plains. I felt a bit guilty about having shared the good parts of the trip and leaving the crappy parts on either end for Herb. It was just the only way I could do it this summer because of my elderly mom. I suggested we be thankful for the wonderful parts we did have together.

Description

Breckenridge is located approximately 75 miles west of Denver in one of the premier skiing areas in the country. Most of the surrounding area is part of the Arapaho National Forest. The town itself is located in the beautiful Blue River Valley at the base of the Ten Mile Range of the Rockies.

Before it became a premier ski resort, Breckenridge was a thriving mining camp. In 1859, when word got out that gold was discovered in the Blue River near current day Breckenridge, hundreds of miners flocked here from Denver and set up a mining camp. In an attempt to get their own post office, the miners named their camp after the current Vice President, John C. Breckinridge (note the difference in spelling). Flattery worked and soon they had their own mail service. When the Civil War began, the town of Breckinridge sided with the South. No longer feeling loyalty to the Federal Government, they changed the spelling of the town to Breckenridge.

In many ways, the village, with its crowded bars and restaurants along its funky main street has maintained that frontier feeling. It was also one of the first ski areas in Colorado to allow snowboarding.

Besides the spectacular skiing, Breckenridge is an outdoor lover's paradise in all four seasons with such adventure highlights as:

• Hiking the many trails in the Arapaho National Forest
• Bicycling the paved Blue River Bikeway along the river between Frisco and Breckenridge
• Biking the 20-mile Vail Pass Bikeway over the 10,600 foot pass into Vail
• Sailing and windsurfing in the Dillon Reservoir just north of Breckenridge
• Fishing for trout and salmon in the Dillon Reservoir
• Fishing for trout in the world-class trout waters of the Blue River
• Rafting the Blue River
• Skateboarding in the outdoor, free skateboard park at the recreation center
• Testing your kayak skills in the man-made rapids section of the Blue River near the recreation center

A few miles north of the town of Breckenridge is the Tiger Run RV Resort, one of the premier RV campgrounds in the country. Most of the sites are owned, but there are some sites available for transients. Some of the many amenities include: landscaped sites with patios, a beautiful clubhouse with fireplace, an indoor pool and hot tub, and lake and stream fishing.

Travelogue

Herb and Lolo at summit of Mt. IdaThe boys left bright and early to get back to Boulder, leaving Herb and I to venture out on our own for the next few days. After mulling over several options, we decided to drive the scenic Trail Ridge Road through the park and camp at Timber Creek on the western side of the park. Along the way, we would try to find a hike for the following day that would be equally spectacular to the Chasm Lake hike, without the cheating death part.

This was not our first time driving the Trail Ridge Road. We had driven it with the kids ten years ago, and it was about time we did it again. Along its very scenic 50 miles from Estes Park to Grand Lake, it winds its way 12,183 feet above sea level into tundra similar to the arctic regions of Alaska and Siberia. Along the way there are spectacular views of snow-covered peaks, alpine meadows full of wildflowers, dense forests, and lots of wildlife.

As lovely as the drive was, it still couldn’t compare to the experience of actually getting out of the car and hiking into the wilderness. We were on a quest to find another hike as inspiring as the one we did the day before.

Spouses enjoying a glass of wine at Timber Creek CampgroundThere was quite a bit of traffic on the road, so we thought there was no way we would find parking for the RV at the Alpine Visitor Center. However, to our delight, a park service employee waved us in, and moved an orange cone for us to park. This was new—saving spaces for RVs. I liked it. As soon as we got out of the RV, and before I had a chance to do anything embarrassing, the man in a Lazy Daze RV next to us said, “Hey, aren’t you the people that write that blog about cross country traveling.” Wow! Our second fan in one trip. I was beginning to feel like a celebrity. Actually, he recognized our Lazy Daze motorhome, which is pretty unique looking, I guess.

Once inside the visitor center, we asked a ranger for a recommendation for a hike that would be as spectacular as the one to Chasm Lake. He told us that his absolute favorite hike in the park was the hike to the top of Mt. Ida. He also mentioned that he heard that someone had slid down and gotten hurt at Chasm Lake the day before. We told him that not only did we know that, but we had actually been the first ones to get to him. I guess the good news was that the fall seemed to be rare enough to have really made news in the park.

Herb hiking Mt. Ida trailWe were happy now. We had our planned hike for tomorrow and it seemed like a really good one. Now, it was a matter of getting one of the first-come-first-served campsites at Timber Creek towards the end of Trail Ridge road. The next morning we rose at 5:30, or at least one of us did, to drive the 10 miles back to the trailhead to secure a parking space. Herb was kind enough to let me continue snoozing in the back of the RV. He was less kind when he filmed me doing so.

We had a leisurely breakfast in the RV, while watching the elk graze outside our back window. People were already beginning to gather at the trailhead, but mostly to just look at the wildlife before moving on. After packing our backpacks with camera and video equipment, lunch, plenty of drinks, and rain jackets in case the afternoon thunderstorms came in, we set off on the trail, which began at the south end of Poudre Lake and climbed through forest for what should have been 1.5 miles. However, I was in the lead and missed the junction for the Mt. Ida trail and wound up adding an extra 2 miles (luckily flat ones) to an already long hike. We had started to think we were off route when we ran into two elderly, but very in shape women, who told us we were way off. They pointed us back in the right direction and Herb took over the lead. We were soon above the treeline with expansive views of meadows filled with wildflowers and big-horned sheep and snow-capped mountains in the distance. Since the trail was laid out by wildlife, it did not switchback as it climbed. Instead it traced the south side of the Continental Divide. What was really cool was that we could see the trail for miles ahead, so we knew exactly what was ahead of us.

"The hills are alive"...At about 3 miles from the trail junction (and what should have been 4.5 miles into our hike, but was 6.5 instead), the trail gave out and the rock scrambling began. The wind had picked up a bit and the clouds were beginning to look a bit ominous, but we didn’t want to turn back. It’s amazing how much weather you can see in these open expanses. We would just have to keep a careful watch to make sure the bad stuff wasn’t moving our way. The rock scrambling did seem to go on and on through at least a couple of false summits before we arrived at the top of Mount Ida on the Continental Divide. We shared the summit with a professor from Ohio and his two grown sons and an elderly couple from Britain. The climb was definitely well worth it with expansive views of the Never Summers mountain range, the Gorge Lakes, and Lake Granby.

So little of the park has cell coverage, including the visitor centers, so I was surprised to see those little bars on my phone. I took the opportunity to call my 91-year-old mother and to text the boys. Herb thought it was poor form on my part to be taking the time I had on this beautiful summit playing with my phone. I just wanted to share the experience with those I loved.

Fortunately, the clouds moved to the south of us, and we took our time making the return down the mountain. Rather than drive out of the park that night looking for a place to stay, we decided to go back to Timber Creek campground for the night, which we already knew was quite lovely.

Trail hiking back from Mt. IdaBefore settling down to cocktail hour, Herb had some RV maintenance to do. Earlier that day when parking at the trailhead, Herb noticed that the check light for our refrigerator was on. Since we were at pretty high altitude, he hoped that the problem would go away when we drove back down to lower elevations. However, the check light was still on when we got back to Timber Creek, where it had worked the previous night. After a bit of grumbling, Herb got out his tools and opened the outside panel to check why the igniter wasn’t igniting. What he found was that metal had cut through the wire insulation. With a little bit of electrical tape we were back in business. He’s my hero—he can fix practically everything.

Now we could settle down to the real business at hand—sipping wine while watching the elk wander through the campground like grazing cattle. We also had to figure out how to spend the last two days of our vacation—or my vacation at least, because I was scheduled to fly back home on Thursday. Herb still had to drive the RV home to New Jersey and could spend as long as he wanted doing that. Consulting our trusty The Most Scenic Drives in America book, which has never let us down so far, we decided to spend the next day meandering out the western gate of the park through Grand Lake and Granby, and then continuing south on Route 40 through Winter Park and Berthoud Pass, seeing what struck our fancy along the way.

Description

Longs Peak from Mt. Ida summitRocky Mountain National Park in north central Colorado encompasses 415 square miles of towering mountain peaks, alpine glaciers, dense forests, beautiful alpine meadows, and pristine lakes. Within the park there are more than 75 peaks above 12,000 feet, the highest of which is Longs Peak, at 14,255 feet. One-third of the park is above the treeline, where tundra predominates.

The major activities in the park include hiking and backpacking along the more than 355 miles of trails, mountain climbing the many peaks, and wildlife viewing (mountain goats, elk, deer, bear, and bighorn sheep, which have become the symbol of the park).

An excellent way to see many of the park's highlights is to drive the scenic 50-mile-long Trail Ridge Road, which rises to over 12,000 feet and crosses the Continental Divide. The road crosses the park from Estes Park in the east to Grand Lake in the southwestern corner of the park winds it way 12,183 feet above sea level into a world similar to the arctic regions of Alaska and Siberia. Along the way there are spectacular views of snow-covered peaks, alpine meadows full of wildflowers, deep forests, and much wildlife. Because of snow, the road usually does not open until Memorial Day and closes again in October.

Herb the hiking photographerAbout halfway along Trail Ridge Road, at a 12,110 elevation, is the Rock Cut parking area, which is the trailhead for the Tundra Nature Trail, an easy ½ mile hike that provides a close-up look at the hardy plants and animals that survive the harsh tundra environment at this elevation. A little further along the road is the Alpine Visitor Center. From here the short Alpine Ridge Trail climbs from the Visitor Center up a series of steps through the tundra to an excellent viewpoint.

There are many other excellent hiking opportunities in the park, including several along the Bear Lake Road. Most of these hikes offer tremendous views of mountain lakes and waterfalls. The 3.6 mile round trip Emerald Lake Hike starts at Bear Lake and goes past 2 more lakes before its final destination, Emerald Lake. The 1.2 mile round trip Alberta Falls Trail is an easy hike along a creek to the very pretty Alberta Falls.

There are 4 RV campgrounds in the park, only 2 of which take reservations. Campgrounds usually fill up by noon. - Lolo

Travelogue

Tommy “leisure diving" - AJGWe met up with the boys at Marys Lake Campground in Estes Park where I had reserved 2 nights. It was Friday, and things get pretty busy in these popular areas on the weekend, so I am glad we did, because the campground was full. It was pretty nice too, with views of the mountains, a small heated pool, and a laundry facility.

I knew about this laundry facility from the campground guide, so I had strongly urged Tommy to bring his dirty laundry on vacation, because I knew that he wasn’t spending his free time in Boulder in laundromats—too many fun things to do to waste time with such menial tasks. So, he actually listened to me and brought along a laundry bag the size of Delaware, which he proceeded to lug across the campground. He looked like Santa Claus.

John “leisure diving" - AJGWhile three full washing machines chugged away on 5 weeks’ worth of dirty laundry, we hung by the nearby campground pool and passed the time watching the boys demonstrate the art of “leisure diving.” For the uninformed, leisure diving consists of jumping into a pool, or other body of water, while striking a “leisure pose” in mid-air. The diver’s skill must be matched by that of the photographer, who strives to capture this idiotic moment at the exact point where the diver is at peak height and parallel to the water. It was hysterical.

I feared we were making spectacles of ourselves, but figured what the heck, no one knew us, right? It was then that we had our second encounter (in ten years of travel) with a fellow camper who recognized us as the family on the “Lolo’s Extreme” website. “Oh, great.” I quickly tried to think of what other embarrassing antics might have occurred since our arrival in the campground. I became totally self-conscious. The man was extremely nice and complimentary of our travel tips and recommendations. We tried to behave ourselves the rest of the evening. Well, at least until Tommy’s friend John decided that he would really like to sleep under the stars on the roof of the RV. The trouble was that the way the campground was laid out, the row behind us was slightly higher with a birds-eye view of what must have looked like a giant caterpillar (John in his sleeping bag) mating with our AC unit on the roof.

Gang at start of Longs Peak Chasm Lake hikeWe rose early Saturday morning, our first full day at Rocky Mountain National Park and Tommy’s 20th birthday. The plan for the day was a nice full-day hike followed by dinner in Estes Park that night. I had found www.protrails.com, a website that described hiking trails in Colorado, so I had the boys look at it to select a good one. Our criteria was that it had to be challenging enough to interest three athletic young men while not simultaneously killing their mother, it had to have a lot of elevation gain, and most importantly, it had to have spectacular views. We unanimously chose the hike to Chasm Lake at the base of Long Peak, an 8.4 mile hike with about a 2,500 foot elevation gain. (http://www.protrails.com/trail.php?trailID=61). It was described as moderately strenuous to strenuous, but the rewards were supposed to be worth it. The end goal was Chasm Lake, a stunning alpine lake, surrounded by the steep flanks of Mt. Meeker, Longs Peak, and Mount Lady Washington.

"False" Chasm LakeThe hike began at the Longs Peak Trailhead right off Route 7 around 10 miles south of Estes Park. Since the trail starts outside the boundaries of the park, there is no entrance fee. We knew the trailhead parking lot would fill up early on a weekend, so we got there by 6:30 am, but still had to park about a half mile down the road from the already full parking area. The other reason for starting so early was that afternoon thunderstorms are quite frequent, so it’s nice to get your hike done ahead of them.

There are two hikes that will remain forever etched in my memory – the cable route up the back of Half Dome in Yosemite and this one. They both share two qualities: scenery so breathtaking it could make your heart stop and the possibility of tumbling down to an untimely death and really make your heart stop. With the Half Dome hike I knew what I was getting into and felt comfortable, although nervous, with the situation. This one took me completely by surprise.

Snowfield traverse on Chasm Lake HikeThe hike started innocently enough through a lovely forest of lodgepole, spruce, and fir trees and across the top of a waterfall before reaching the treeline. From there, the forest was supplanted by “krummoltz,” a German word meaning “twisted wood” to describe the stunted, irregular growth patterns of the trees caused by the poor soil conditions, thinner air, and extreme weather conditions at this altitude. More than half the hike was above the treeline across open tundra with terrific panoramic views.

As we approached what I believed to be the end of the hike, I was so energized and inspired by the experience that I rambled on and on to Herb about this hike being one of the best, if not “thee best” hike we had ever done. Ah, there it lay before us -- Chasm Lake, a pristine alpine lake with cliffs rising from its shore. It was at this moment of epiphany that I was informed by one of our party that this was not, in fact, Chasm Lake, but just a warm-up. Oh. Okay. I would try to control my enthusiasm until the true climax of the hike.

Mom traversing snowfield - TJGThe trail continued above the “false Chasm Lake” along the base of Longs Peak. Eventually we came to a snow-covered section where previous hikers’ footprints could be seen closely paralleling the cliffs that rose to the right. While the section they had walked on was flat, it was only about a foot wide before dropping precipitously to the left at about a 45 degree angle. But no worry about slipping on the snow and plunging to an untimely death in the lake below, because the boulder field at the bottom would be sure to stop me first—very comforting. I was having a heart attack. One false step and I was going to slide about 50 yards, at every increasing velocity, into those rocks. The family assured me that I was worrying needlessly and compared it to walking on a snow-covered narrow sidewalk. And, they added, my trekking poles would keep me balanced . With their encouragement, I began what had to be the slowest crossing of 200 yards in the history of hiking. Actually, I was wrong, because my way back would be much slower. After much coaxing and holding of hands, I finally inched my way to the other side, kissed the ground, and paused to let my heart stop pounding. It was at this moment of relief that I saw Tommy’s friend John, who was looking back at the snow-covered section we had just crossed, gasp and cry out, “Oh my God, someone just slid down into the rocks.”

Taking photos on the Chasm Lake HikeJohn was the only one of us that saw it happen. Just as I feared, a hiker slipped a bit on the snow and careened down the hill at really fast speed. He bounced off a lone rock halfway down the hill, which probably slowed him down, and then continued all the way to the bottom where he hit more rocks. Herb, the boys, and John tried to clamber down to see if he was alright, and John, who is a Wilderness EMT, eventually took his own chances crossing a lower section of snow to get to him. Although very badly shaken up, the guy was pretty much okay. No serious injuries, although we did hear later that he broke his wrist. A ranger showed up to help escort him back down. I don’t even want to think about what would have happened if he had hit head first.

Family at Chasm LakeGreat! Now I was on the other side of this mess and the only way back later was to cross it again. I kept asking anyone we encountered, including rangers, if there was another way out of here. I would have been willing to rock climb up Longs Peak and over rather than repeat what we had just done. Less than reassuring, everyone said that going back was the only way out and that conditions would actually probably worsen throughout the day as the snow became slushier. It was very hard for me to relax and enjoy the real Chasm Lake, which really was incredibly beautiful. Herb insisted on taking our family Christmas photo here, but as I expected, the expression on my face was more appropriate for Halloween. Everyone else was having a great time, eating lunch, taking pictures, and just enjoying the scenery. I just wanted to get it over with.

Andrew contemplating Longs PeakWhen we got back to the gorge, John scampered across like he was on a walk in the park. Herb stayed in the rear, I found out later, to film the fiasco. Meanwhile, my very sweet sons stayed with me to both emotionally and physically move me across the expanse. Tommy went first. He held my hand and kicked his shoes into the snow with each step to make a deeper and more secure spot for me to place my foot. Andrew came behind me and held onto my backpack in case I started to slip. We looked like some bizarre Conga line. Herb said we were actually making things worse, because in some sections the snow was just a bridge between rocks and that our collective weight could have broken through causing us all to fall a dozen or so feet to rocks below the snow. Luckily I didn’t know this at the time, because the last thing I wanted to do was endanger the boys as well. Boy, do I love those guys. I really think I couldn’t have done it without them (and my trekking poles). Herb got lots of photos of me stooped over like Quasimoto being escorted from the bell tower. I’m glad he found it entertaining.

When we got to the other side, I was so incredibly relieved. I didn’t feel that my fears were totally unwarranted, especially in lieu of the fact that someone actually did fall. I then noticed that there was a young couple sitting on the rocks who had had a ring side seat for my rather embarrassing hiking performance. They were trying to decide whether to make the crossing. I feel kind of bad that my pitiful display might have been the deciding factor in their decision to not go on, because they did miss out on a truly awesome view beyond. However, then again, maybe they would have gotten hurt. Probably not, but I’m sure it was going through their minds.

Nervous Lolo crossing the snowfieldLater on we got into a philosophical discussion as to the role the national parks should play in preventing people from hurting themselves—whether they should provide people with the freedom to take risks or close off areas that could be dangerous. Herb argued the freedom point of view and asked me if I willing to see the Grand Canyon rim enclosed by a fence so people couldn’t fall off the edge. I agreed with him that it shouldn’t, but just felt that it would be nice if people could be warned as to what they were getting themselves into, so that they could decide for themselves whether they were ready to handle the risk. I think that is generally the case, but in this instance it was a matter of changing conditions that created a situation that normally wasn’t a problem. I spoke to a man that did this hike every year in July, and he said he had never seen so much snow at this time of year. Also, people have to be somewhat responsible for the wisdom of their behavior. For example, the guy that slid down today was wearing Sketchers rather than hiking shoes, so he probably didn’t belong out there in the first place.

Dad checking out roof for John to sleep - AJGThe walk down was uneventful—a quality I now appreciate in a hike. We were all in a hurry to get back to camp so we could shower and get on to the next event, which was Tommy’s 20th birthday dinner.

We always tease Tommy that he gets special treatment on his birthday, because if often falls on one of our trips. In fact, it was his 7th celebrated on the road. He had spent his 9th birthday lunching at the beautiful Prince of Wales Hotel in Waterton-Glacier National Park, his 10th mountain biking down Whistler-Blackcomb Mountain in British Columbia, his 12th rafting the Colorado River near Moab, his 14th desperately searching for something to do in Newfoundland (link), his 15th listening to a fiddler in Seward, Alaska playing such hits as “A Week in Eek” (link), his 16th lunching at the incredible Ahwahnee Hotel in Yosemite (link), and now his 20th hiking the spectacular Rocky Mountains. Not bad. Poor Andrew—his birthday usually falls during final exams.

But the birthday bash was not over yet. There was still a night out in Estes Park. On the hike down, I got a recommendation for a good restaurant from a woman that lived locally and worked for the park system. Without hesitation, she said Mama Rose’s.

John waking up on roof of RVMama Rose’s was a fine choice. It was located in Barlow Plaza, right alongside the Big Thompson River which flows through town. Funny coincidence. When researching this trip, I had found some free music concert possibilities for this night. One of them was in Barlow Plaza, but for the life of me, I couldn’t find Barlow Plaza on any map, online or otherwise. Well now here we were, sitting on the steps watching the river flow by, listening to live music by Dick Orleans. I felt quite smug for having pulled this off

After a nice dinner, a walk through town, and some ice cream we headed back to camp to settle in for the night—or in John’s case, to settle “out” on top of the roof of the RV again. Sadly, the next day (Sunday), we had to part with the boys. Tommy had to return to work in Boulder and Andrew was to continue west to Napa Valley to visit his girlfriend. The RV was certainly going to be a lot lonelier, but quieter and neater too. Herb and I would try to cope.

Description

Longs PeakLocated at the eastern gateway to Rocky Mountain National Park, Estes Park serves as a base camp for exploring the park. Surrounded by gorgeous vistas of the Rocky Mountains, the town and its Riverwalk along the roaring Big Thompson is a destination in itself. While the year round population is 3,200, the town comes to life in the summer when tourists flood the town after a tough day on the trails to enjoy its many restaurants, galleries, and shops.

Travelogue

Determined Pine TreeToday our objective was to all converge at Marys Lake Campground in Estes Park, right outside the eastern entrance to Rocky Mountain National Park, where I had reserved a campsite for two nights. Tommy and Andrew had to go back to Boulder to pick up John, Tommy’s friend who would be joining us for the weekend, and they would head up together in the evening. Herb and I would take the more scenic Peak to Peak Highway up to Estes Park.

Since Tommy didn’t have to be in Boulder until John finished work, we thought we would try to do something together before taking our different paths to Estes Park. We all thought a run would do us some good, so Tommy, who had spent the summer training on the trails around Boulder, suggested the Betasso Preserve in Boulder. Going back to Boulder was a bit out of the way for me and Herb, but we felt it would be worth the extra miles. Maneuvering and parking an RV in Boulder is not necessarily an easy thing. Fortunately, I had called the Chamber of Commerce while planning the trip and found that the best place to park an RV would be at the Target at 2800 Pearl Street (28th + Pearl).

After depositing the RV at Target, we jumped in Tommy’s car and headed back out of town to the Betasso Preserve. We retraced our steps on Boulder Canyon Drive (Highway 119) for about 6 miles before Tommy turned onto Sugarloaf Road and drove up to the Preserve, which overlooked the town of Boulder. I must say I was pretty impressed with Tommy’s local knowledge of the area. We would never have known that this beautiful place existed. While mostly a mountain biker’s heaven, the trails in the preserve were also great for running.

Picnic lunch at Betasso PreserveWe chose to run the popular 3.2-mile Canyon Loop Trail which leads through a lovely pine and fir forest and grassy meadows. Also, by Boulder standards, it was considered relatively flat. Since we are usually accustomed to running 5 to 10 miles, I figured we would do the loop twice. Once again, I was humbled by the high altitude. The boys took off at a much brisker pace than Herb and I could emulate for more than 10 feet and soon disappeared from view in the forest, while Herb and I plodded along at a more reasonable and enjoyable pace. I felt pretty good at first, but then the legs got heavier and the slight headache returned. This was my third full day at high altitude, which apparently wasn’t enough. I began to do what the boys refer to as “Eatin’ it.” Herb seemed to be faring much better. Perhaps, his additional days out West before my arrival had given him an altitude adjustment advantage. I finally succumbed to what I hate to do on a run – walk. I just couldn’t run anymore. The sun was beating down on me and my legs felt like lead. Tommy, who had been out in Colorado for 6 weeks already, was the only one of us that took that second loop. Andrew and I looked like we had just run a marathon.

We had a nice picnic lunch on a table overlooking a nice view of Boulder. I can understand why outdoor enthusiasts flock to this area. Plus, training at this area must make you feel like superman when you get back to sea level. Before separating from the boys for our drive up to Estes Park, we stopped at Tommy’s favorite store: REI, which sold every conceivable toy to be used in the outdoors. It was a very tempting experience.

Herb and Tom after running Canyon Loop TrailWe said goodbye to the boys for now and headed back out on Boulder Creek Canyon road towards Nederland where we would meet up with the Peak to Peak Scenic Highway, this time heading north on Route 72 and eventually Route 7 towards Estes Park.

Since it was just the two of us, we decided to spend the day doing something we like to do, but which the boys have not yet developed the same level of enthusiasm for – geocaching. For a full explanation on what geocaching is, see the description in our last stop or check out www.geocaching.com. Real briefly, geocaching is kind of like treasure hunting or orienteering. It involves using a GPS and a series of hints to search for hidden containers (ranging from tiny micro-size ones to large ammo boxes) that have been hidden by fellow geocachers. Some geocaches have little “treasures” in them (mostly little junky trinkets that you would normally throw out), but the real attraction is the journey towards finding them. There are over a million of them hidden throughout the world, and the people hiding them are usually locals that know about interesting places to visit that you would never come across otherwise. We think it’s fun. The boys think it’s embarrassing.

We “bagged” six of them along the way—a fairly productive day—and in the process discovered a lovely swimming beach along Boulder Creek, a great view of the Barker Reservoir Dam, and several awesome views of babbling brooks and snow-capped peaks. We were so absorbed that we didn’t realize the time until the boys called us from Estes Park wondering where we were. They were hoping to find us all settled in with dinner cooking. No wonder they hate geocaching. It makes us such neglectful parents.

Description

The Peak to Peak highway (Colorado Highways 119, 72, and 7) is a 55-mile scenic drive with spectacular snow-capped mountain vistas of the Continental Divide. Going from south to north, the drive begins in Central City and passes through Blackhawk, Nederland, the old mining towns of Ward and Allenspark, and Meeker Park, before arriving at Estes Park near the eastern gateway to Rocky Mountain National Park. Map: Map: http://www.byways.org/explore/byways/2114/travel.html

Although there are quicker routes to Estes Park from the Denver area, this is by far the most scenic. Peak to Peak Magazine's calls it “one of the most beautiful mountain roads in the country."

Travelogue

Lolo enjoying Boulder Falls mistBefore heading out to Golden Gate Canyon, we stopped briefly at Tommy’s office to meet his coworkers and boss and to collect Andrew, who had decided to spend the night at Tommy’s apartment in Boulder instead of sleeping in the Walmart parking lot with us – I can’t understand why.

Tommy had managed to get the following two days off to spend with us by adding an extra two days onto the end of his internship. Today (Wednesday), however, he was going to participate in his office’s team-building day before driving out to Golden Gate Canyon to meet us that evening. The teambuilding event was going to culminate in a 3-person team go-kart race that evening. Rumor had it that it got pretty intense, so he absolutely didn’t want to miss it.

Hiking the Raccoon Loop TrailHerb, Andrew, and I set out on Boulder Creek Canyon Drive (Highway 119), which wound through Boulder Canyon along Boulder Creek. It was a beautiful drive, and I was intrigued by the walking/biking trail that ran along the creek for a good part of the drive. Boulder is a town known for its outdoor enthusiasts, and it appeared that many of them were out on that trail biking, walking, running, and just in general enjoying the beautiful scenery. The creek also looked like a fun place for tubing and kayaking, but this year it was still too high and fast to safely do that.

About 11 miles into the drive, we made a brief stop at Boulder Falls where North Boulder Creek plunges into Middle Boulder Creek. There is a short trail that leads to a viewpoint just below the 70-foot cascade. Continuing on, we came to a large reservoir near the town of Nederland before the road turned south toward Golden Gate.

Dad belaying Tom at Clear Creek Canyon - AJGAlong the drive I kept anxiously looking at my cell phone to see if and where I got any coverage. It’s funny how we have become so dependent on constant access to the outside world. For years we traveled without cell phones and it never bothered me. Now, I go into a panic anytime those little bars disappear. My major concern was the ability to reach my 91-year-old mother, who although is in an assisted living facility, is very dependent on hearing from me about 20 times a day. I took note of the fact that I had coverage just a few miles south of Nederland, but then lost it from that point on all the way to our campground in the park. So, we turned around and drove back towards Nederland so I could call my mom and warn her that we might be out of touch for a few days.

We arrived at the Reverend Ridge Campground on Gap Road in the northwestern corner of the park, where I had reserved a site for two nights. A lightning strike the day before had taken out the campground water supply, but fortunately we had a full tank and could shower in the RV.

Tom descending Clear Creek Canyon climb - AJGFor the afternoon, I had selected what I thought would be the fairly easy 3.3-mile Raccoon Loop Trail. What I forgot to consider was that we had been at 200’ above sea level just yesterday morning and were now at 9100’. We are in pretty good shape—especially Andrew, so we couldn’t believe how big an effect the altitude had on us. We all had this annoying little headache and felt like we were dragging ourselves along the trail. I guess the good part was that the hike took up a greater part of our afternoon than planned. It was a lovely hike. It started at the campground and wound its way through beautiful aspen groves and wildflower meadows, across babbling brooks, and eventually to the highlight, Panorama Point, where we were rewarded with sweeping views of the Continental Divide.

Back at the campground, we relaxed in our forested site and awaited the arrival of Tommy after his tough day of teambuilding at the go-kart track. He arrived triumphant, having been part of the 3-person winning team.

The next day, Tommy was our planner and guide. During his summer in Boulder, his interest in rock climbing had really taken off, and he had gained a lot of local knowledge as to where to go. Herb had been an avid climber for 10 years before the boys were born, and was having a great time getting back into it as the boys took an interest in it as well. This part of Colorado has so many east-west canyon roads that wind along creeks surrounded by rock walls perfect for climbing—Boulder Creek Canyon, Coal Creek Canyon, Golden Gate Canyon, and Clear Creek Canyon, just to name a few. Clear Creek Canyon near Golden was our destination for the day. Since we could use Tommy’s car and leave the RV behind, we were able to drive the steep and windy, non-RV friendly, Mountain Base Road through Golden Gate Canyon State Park down to Golden Gate Canyon Road into Golden and then back out on Clear Creek Canyon Road. This place is really incredible.

Tom leading Clear Creek Canyon 5.10 - AJGThe type of climbing that Tommy likes to do is called sport climbing. What that means is that rather than the traditional way of putting protection pieces in the rock as you climb to prevent you from falling, the bolts and protection are already permanently fixed to the rock. It’s a bit safer and quicker to set up a climb. Because of his newly found local knowledge, Tommy knew exactly where along Clear Creek Canyon to find the sport climbing wall, so it wasn’t long before we were settled at the base of a rock cliff and he was scampering up a 5.10 climb on the wall. Herb really enjoyed his first exposure to sport climbing as well. I enjoyed safely reading my Kindle on the solid ground below.

After the boys had their fill of climbing, we drove into Golden in search of the Coors Brewery—not too hard to find as it takes up most of the town. It is the largest single brewery facility in the world. We parked our car and got on line for the shuttle bus which would take us the few blocks to the brewery. After we were already in line, I noticed a sign that said that IDs were required to partake in the free sampling at the end of the tour. I panicked because I had left my wallet in the car, but Herb rightly assured me that (unfortunately) no one was going to question the fact that I was over 21.

The tour was pretty cool—self-guiding so you could take as long as you wanted to get to the end goal: the free sampling room. At one point in the tour, they handed out a little Dixie cup size sample of beer. We had heard that there were three free samples, so all we were expecting at the end were two more Dixie cups of beer, but to our surprise—and delight—the free samples included 3 full-size beers per person—quite a bit for those sea-level types not used to the high altitude. Since Tommy was only 19 and couldn’t partake in anything but free soda, he was immediately appointed our designated driver. Not being a particularly big fan of Coors beer before, I was pleased to find two beers that I really enjoyed: Killian’s Irish Red and Blue Moon.

Mom on Coors Brewery Tour - TJGI’m actually pretty surprised they give away this much free beer, but I think I might have figured out why. At the beginning of the tour, they took a picture of each family in front of a green screen. When you got to the end of the tour and the end of your three beers (and sobriety), they showed you the picture of your lovely family (made lovelier by the beers) in front of a variety of backgrounds. For a mere $15, we bought the one where we were lined up in front of a stack of kegs. It just goes to show you that there is no such thing as a free beer. Proudly carrying what we thought at the time might become our family Christmas card photo, we stumbled out into the bright sunlight and walked the streets of Golden for a bit before driving back to our campground in Golden Gate Canyon.

Back at the campground, Herb and I decided to do some geocaching while the Tommy went for a run. Andrew had to make the tough call of running with Tommy or geocaching with us. He must have really been hurting from the high altitude, because he chose to come with us on an activity that he still thinks is pretty silly.

For those of you fellow travelers unfamiliar with geocaching, I seriously recommend learning more about it (see www.geocaching.com). It can be a life-changing event. No seriously, it is a very interesting concept that has brought us to some very interesting and out-of-the way places. Very briefly, geocaching is kind of a treasure hunt, sans the treasures. Geocaches are waterproof containers (ranging from tiny little containers to ammo boxes) that contain little trinkets for trading—items that you would just throw away if you found them in your house, but for some reason feel like treasures after having gone through so much trouble trying to find them. There are over a million geocaches hidden in over 100 countries throughout the world. People searching for them use a GPS to guide them to usually within 30 feet of the hidden cache. From there, clues help the seeker zero in on the find. I know it sounds a bit silly, but it is actually a lot of fun and has exposed us to a lot of great places that we would never have found on our own.

Parents geocaching - AJGThe clue this time was “green machine” and our GPS led us a short distance back down Mountain Base Road to a beautiful meadow overlooking the town of Black Hawk in the distance. See, already geocaching had brought us to a beautiful spot that we would not have discovered otherwise. We followed our GPS pointer part way down the hill and into the woods where we soon came across the wreck of an old green steamroller. I think we had found our “green machine.” Now the hard part began – finding a tiny 35mm film canister hidden somewhere within it. Andrew was truly amused by two grown adults, who he had known and respected his entire life, determinedly poking their heads, and sometimes entire bodies, into a rusty old wreck to find a hidden “treasure.” He even recorded it on his camera for posterity. He must have been so proud of me when I eventually cried out, “Found it!”

Description

Lolo and Tom at Panorama PointGolden Gate Canyon State Park, located on the Front Range 30 miles west of Denver and 13 miles northwest of Golden , contains 12,000 acres of unspoiled landscape – rugged canyons, wildflower meadows, lodgepole forests, lush aspen groves, and meandering streams.

The Park contains 36 miles of hiking trails, 22 miles of which are also open to mountain biking and horseback riding. As the average elevation of the park is 9100 feet, hiking can be a challenge for those unaccustomed to the altitude. A major attraction is Panorama Point Scenic Overlook, where visitors can see 100 miles of the Continental Divide.

There are several camping options:

• Reverend’s Ridge campground, just off Gap Road, has 97 tent and RV sites, 57 of which have electrical hookups.
• Aspen Meadows Campground has 35 sites for tents only.
• Backcountry Camping - there are four backcountry three-sided shelters which can sleep up to 6 people without a tent
• In addition to the four shelters, there are 20 backcountry tent sites open year-round . Many of these sites are located in large, scenic meadows and are surrounded by 10,000 foot peaks. Backcountry camping permits must be obtained at the Visitors Center.
• 5 cabins and 2 yurts, each of which accommodate 6 people

Side trips from Golden Gate Canyon:

• Clear Creek Canyon is located along Clear Creek, just west of Golden. It is reached by taking US 6 West from the center of Golden. Besides being a beautiful drive, the walls of the canyon provide a playground for rock climbers. The following website provides details on the climbing routes available throughout the canyon : http://www.mountainproject.com/v/clear-creek-canyon/105744243
• Golden is located 15 miles west of Denver, along Clear Creek Canyon at the foothills of the Front Range of the Rocky Mountains. The town was founded during the Pike’s Peak gold Rush in 1859 and served as the capital of the Territory of Colorado from 1862 to 1867. Its population is approximately 17,000. Today Golden is best known for its being home to the Colorado school of Mines and the Coors Brewing Company. Free 30-minute, self-guided tours of the brewery are conducted throughout the day. At the end of the tour, free samples of the various beers produced are provided.