A Late Fall Wander to Black Lake 10/27/18

A Late Fall Wander to Black Lake 10/27/18

A long wander to refresh a tired body and worn spirit

My tired body struggles to get up to meet my friend Katie at the trailhead.  I text that I will be there later than our scheduled time of 7:00 am.  It has been a long week; my body is tired, my spirit worn, and I want to quit before I even get started.  The disease has taken up more than its fair share of real estate in my mind this week, working its way into my motivation to wander.  Despite the desire to stay in bed, I know that I will feel better if I can get up and move.  A hike in the Park offers a refresh for my body and soul if only I can coax myself out of the bed.

It has been a difficult week with the disease.  The fatigue has been a constant and I am again thinking about the loss of functionality and the time when such a hike will not be possible.  This motivates me to get up and start the slow process of working the stiffness out of my joints and warming up my muscles, so I can move.

On the road

Some breakfast, a pot of tea and some snacks thrown in my pack and I am on my way.  One short stop to give my goats a hug and a kiss (and some oats) and I find myself in my car moving towards the Park.  My body still feels tired and I wonder if I should quit and go back home but decide that I am not going to give in to the disease today.  I am going to go out and breathe in the cold mountain air and approach the path with open curiosity and a mindset of wonderment.

Glacier Gorge Trailhead

I arrive at the Glacier Gorge trailhead before my friend and greedily continue listening to my book on Audible as the wind howls outside.  Katie arrives and we both leave our cars to get packed up and on the trail.  Immediately upon exiting the car a gust of wind blasts me and nearly knocks me over.  Laughing, I fight with the wind to keep my door open long enough to don my pack and grab my camera.

As we walk towards the trail, we have a short conversation about our plans.  Given the intense gusts and constant wind we decide to stay off the Continental Divide and pick a trail that keeps us in the safety of the trees.  Black Lake it is!

Cold, brutal wind

The cold wind turns my gloved hands waxy white.  They burn against the cold.  I switch to mittens and know that as I move and begin to generate heat my fingers will burn again as they rewarm.  Such is the never-ending battle against Raynauds. 

The trail is busy with hikers, bundled up against the cold wind and chattering with excitement of the hike to come.  There is surprisingly little snow on the ground.  Within a short distance, patches of ice begin to cover the soil and we stop to put traction on our feet.  Katie has never seen the falls in Glacier Gorge, so we opt for the summer trail to take in the deep gorge. 

Glacier Gorge

Water rushes through the gorge, bursting over craggy rocks and through slender slots.  While still a powerful force of nature, it is a mere shadow of it’s Spring self.  Slowly, the edges of the water turn to ice, freezing the water fast in its place.  Yet water continues to flow beneath and around the ice as if to dare the ice to stop it.  The force of water to move down hill pushes against the force of nature to fall into its deep winter sleep.  Alas, the ice will win until the Spring thaw comes and releases the water from its frozen sleep.

A special tree 

We move beyond the falls and soon arrive at the turn off to Mills Lake.  More snow coats the ground, trees and needles covered in puffs of snow against a bright blue sky.  A ridge of rock holds a special tree that I always greet when I travel this path.  I introduce Katie to this tree and we marvel at its strength and girth despite living completely atop a solid rock.   The skin of the tree wraps gracefully around its stout limbs, making me wonder at the forces of nature that shaped its development.

The wind blows clouds across the sky and by the time we reach Mills Lake the mountains are swirled in spindrift and clouds.  Mighty Longs Peak is tucked into a puff of clouds while the crystalline snow dust fills the air.  I could spend hours watching the weather dance across the skies, skipping along the mountains and blowing through the valley.

 

Mills Lake 

Mills is beginning the winter freeze.  Sheets of ice float across the surface, white caps whip along in resistance to the inevitable freeze.  Soon the lake will be frozen many feet deep, with air bubbles caught in the murky ice.  But today, the water still flows, and the ice is only a thin layer of broken sheets.

We move along the valley floor, through a forest of deep green trees and meadows of long, brown grass.  The soft colors of Fall are faded into the muted colors of winter.  As the ice progresses this world will turn to blues, whites and blacks, almost like a black and white picture.  Many of my winter photos remind me of the old art of black and white photography.

Delightful waterfall 

We come across a small waterfall, trickling down a rock and beginning to freeze in place.  Icicles hang from rocks, gnarled ice forms shapes and figures that only nature can create, and the water chatters over the rocks and across the ice, making it way to the valley floor.  

Black Lake 

As we climb towards our destination, we stop to observe ice forming along rock faces.  Katie is an ice climber always on the look out for a new slab to sink her ice tools in.  One final steep climb up a water fall covered in snow and ice and we pop out at Black Lake.  Grey skies roil across the mountaintops, obscuring peaks and conjuring a sense of drama and adventure.  Wind blows wildly over the water and through my layers causing a chill to ripple across my skin.

We hike to the end of the lake to where most ice climbers find their playground.  Katie looks over the ice with excitement, dreaming of routes to be climbed.  That will have to wait for another day when the ice is more solid and has set for the winter.

Back to the trailhead and warmth of a car

After a quick snack, we make our way back down the valley.  The skies turn from black to grey to blue and back to grey as the winds move weather over the mountains.  We make one last stop to check on one of my favorite trees.  Katie is tickled by my tree, hidden off the trail to not call attention to itself.  A quick photo and we return to the trail junction. 

 

I show Katie the cutoff trail that only locals know and use.  Within a half an hour we are back to our cars, pleased with our wander.  My body and soul refreshed by a long wander in the forest.  Today, I win over the disease!

WanderJill