The Scene: It’s a national holiday weekend. A dear friend has spent her hard-earned money to fly in for the weekend. A rustic campsite high in the mountains is reserved.
After a long day of far too many commitments, Friday evening found the Beangle and I dropped off as 1) the campsite must be reserved for a minimum of three nights due to the holiday weekend; and 2) the campsite must be occupied the first night or the reservation is forfeited.
Jeff drove back to town so that he could collect Jess from the airport bright and early on Saturday morning. I got the trailer and tent set up for adventuring, made myself a quick dinner of roasted beets and pumpkin seeds, and gratefully followed the sun to sleep, in awe of the beauty of the place and the pleasant weather.
Saturday dawned bright and early without a cloud in the sky. I could tell this was going to be A Good Day. About a half hour after I crawled out of bed, they arrived with many smiles and lots of hugs. We immediately stowed Jess’ gear and grabbed our backpacks. It was time for some hiking.
We opted for the Burning Bear trail, a rocky 4 miles out and back amongst lodgepole pines to a ridge line, above a pretty alpine fen (peat bog). You’re never too far from mining and homesteading history in these mountains, as the remains of this log cabin along the trail reminded us. We’re lucky the dry mountain air has kept so many of these artifacts from disappearing altogether.
On Sunday morning, we watched one campsite group after another pack up and head out. Even though we knew there was a chance of some rain in the afternoon, we thought it odd that so many were leaving. Wimps.
We decided to go for a drive and head further up the Guanella Pass, possibly even to Georgetown for lunch. I learned from an informational placard at a turnoff that the odd trees with pinecones only on top that I’d been seeing are called Engelmann Spruce and often live for 450 years. I’m still confused about the evolutionary benefit to having its pine cones only at top of the tree.
Reaching the Guanella Pass Summit, we had a clear view of Mount Bierstadt to the east
and the route to the Square Top Lakes to the west.
It was a 7 mile hike, one way, to Bierstadt and 4 miles to the other, and a bit late in the day to start either hike, so after a bit of gazing, we continued on toward Georgetown. Along the way, we saw a few cars stopped along the roadside. “Bear?” we all asked.
Imagine our surprise when we saw not just a moose but a mother and her yearling munching on aquatic grasses in a low wetland behind a partial screen of evergreens.
Georgetown is an adorable former mining town that has embraced its history with well maintained homes from the late 1800s, a scenic tourist steam train service, and a shopping district full of frontier-era storefronts. We stopped at one and bought some old-fashioned candies, which admittedly tasted like they’d entered the antique stage. Even so, we were delighted to see candies with so many childhood memories attached to them.
We noticed that the fog we’d encountered on the way in had increased significantly. As we drove back up the mountain, it became a real pea souper until we broke through the clouds near the summit. Thankfully it was significantly less thick on the southern side of the pass. The fog was picturesque near our campground, but we still didn’t think too much about it.
Soon after returning to camp, the rain started. Then the rain turned into a downpour. We didn’t worry about it. We just piled into the Beangle to read, rest, and ride it out. Suddenly thunder was cracking overhead and hail was pounding the Beangle’s roof. After a few minutes, in true cartoon-style, we looked outside and saw Jess’ tent had collapsed under an inch of hail. We burst out laughing and I noted that we’d moved fully into Type 2 Fun.
There was nothing we could do about it until the storm passed, so we played Gin Rummy. Eventually the storm stopped. We scraped, pushed, and pulled sheets of frozen hailstones off the tent and re-set the supporting poles. Despite the rain and hail, the tent’s interior was bone dry. Good job, little Nemo tent.
Back in the trailer, we went through round two of rain, thunder snow, and hail. Jess chose to sleep in the backseat of the truck versus risking another hail avalanche. It rained, thundered, and hailed some more until about midnight, ultimately freezing the ground solid.
The tent held.
