A Wander to Odessa Gorge and Grace Falls 12.1.18

 

Odessa Gorge and Grace Ice Waterfall Wander 12/1/18

The morning dawns cold with skies threatening turbulent weather.  Ice is beckoning Katie, so we decide to head out to find Grace Falls, cradled at the head of the Odessa Gorge.  Geared up, we begin our trek from the Bear Lake Trailhead. 

Climbing through the forest 

The well packed trail begins a steady climb through the forest.  Long shadows cast across the snow filled trees.  The sun has not yet made its journey high enough in the sky to fill the forest with light.  A wind blows through the trees, releasing mists of snow from the needles and branches.

Skiers heading to the Banana Bowl glide by as we make our way to the trail junction.  We make the turn towards Odessa Gorge with high hopes of making it to Grace Falls.  The snow deepens as we make our way through the forest.  Open areas of dirt around trees is now filled with snow.  Sheets of white powder adhere to the trunks in long white strips, revealing the direction of the last storm.

Winding trail

The trail wonders here and there, making curves and turns where there should be none.   A fellow traveler passes us as he quickly moves across the snow.  We comment on how fast he is moving.  Soon the fellow returns, stating that he lost the trail and the weather is blowing snow, making it hard to see.

The snow blows, creating a scene softened through the spin drift of snow.  A familiar creek bed orients me to where we are, and indicates we are still more than a mile to the gorge.  Fingers, toes and face are numb with cold.  A change of gloves and a zip up of my jacket to cover my face allows us to push deeper into the forest.

No Grace Falls Today

The fellow traveler passes us again, more determined to get to the gorge.  We laugh and continue pushing through the deep snow.  Within a few minutes the traveler is back, stating he cannot see his way and is giving up.  We all laugh, and he bids us farewell and heads back toward Bear Lake.  The GPS shows we are on the correct path with a mile left to travel. 

The ridge line that marks the open gorge appears before us, yet seems so far away and out of our reach for the day.  Part of me is cold and tired and could be easily convinced to turn around.  The other part of me wants to get to the gorge and look out into the vast chasm filled with the grayness of the day.  I long to get to the edge where the wind will whip me senseless, will freeze my body to the core, and perhaps even steal my hat.  Alas, it becomes clear that we will not make it to Grace Falls today as the weather is worsening and crossing the shelf across the gorge to get to the falls in this weather would be dangerous.

We agree that any day in the mountains is a good day, even if you don’t get to where you intend.  We turn and begin our trek back to the Bear Lake Trailhead.  Once we reach the lake, Katie invites me to look for ice falls around the lake. 

The path around the lake is well traveled and we come upon several groups of people out for a stroll.  The sun continues to do its best to burn through the clouds and lift the gray shaded sky.  Snow crystals caught in a ray, sparkle and shimmer as they float through the air.

Bear Lake Ice Falls

We arrive at the rock walls covered in sheaths of ice.  Katie’s face lights up and she immediately grabs her ice axe and sinks it into the ice.  Ping and shards of ice spray into her smiling face.  The grin says it all – she has found her ice for the day. 

While Katie explores the quality of the ice, I explore with my lens.  Nature offers wordless clues about the story.  My job is to follow the clues and tell the story.  The shades of gray, brown and black of the rock come alive against the thin layers of ice.  The flow of ice reveals the path of least resistance for water to flow.  Interesting shapes form ridges upon which snow gently lays.  Thick sheets of ice reach from high on the rocks to the ground, often forming a curtain. 

A picture taken today is a snapshot in time.  Tomorrow the ice and rocks will look different.  Part of the joy of wandering is exploring each rock, tree, piece of ice as if for the first time.  Allowing the mind to wonder about how it came to be, allowing the eye and the lens to capture its story, enjoying every detail as if it is the first and last time to be experienced.

WanderJill