“You can’t go up there. There’s snow,” a neighboring camper advises me.
“What do you mean? The roads are bad?”
“Oh no, the roads are fine. There is snow on the trail.”
Confused by what is so perilous about snow on the trail, I decide to stop by the visitor center and ask a park ranger.
“Oh, you’ll probably be fine,” the park ranger advises me.
I’ll probably be fine?
The trail is a mere 1.5 miles in and 1.5 miles back, so I decide to take the hike and turn around if for some reason this strangely threatening snow stops me.
.
Once on the trail, I know I’ve made the right decision. There is hardly a person around and the views going up are spectacular.
I’m not fit enough for the steep hike, so take it slowly. Getting to the top, I finally see the snow.
Magical. Peaceful. Still. I have this fairy tale place to myself as I continue hiking toward the lake. Pretty soon, the snow gets a bit more challenging.
Determined to get there, I trek through the now almost knee deep snow, finally arriving at a shockingly beautiful scene. There is one other family that has made it to Bierstadt, so I hike around to find a private spot. It is so pretty I feel like crying. I want to hike here everyday and decide to stay as long as possible.
After a few hours of lakeside journaling, it’s getting late. I am a bit turned around, and hear another family trying to find the trail. With the snow and fallen trees, we are all disoriented, so I decide to stay with them as we try to get back on track.
“Ah, here it is! Look, there are footprints,” the husband calls out in an English accent.
I want to enjoy another solitary walk through the quiet woods, so wait a while and let them hike ahead.
After they are well out of sight I start out. I hike and hike and hike. I should be there by now. I don’t remember such a steep climb. This snow is deeper than I remember.
I start to fear I started back on the wrong path. When I come upon some fallen pine trees blocking my way, I’m completely exhausted and now certain I’ve gotten off track. The family I let go ahead is now long gone.
Finally, I find a trail marker, but my relief turns to panic as I realize the listed destinations are meaningless to me. I’ve been hiking for well over an hour in the wrong direction and am getting increasingly confused. The sun is starting to go down.
Two of the destinations are listed as three miles out; one is listed as one mile. Having no idea if they lead to remote backcountry campsites or the main road, I opt for the shortest one. The hike continues a steep incline and the snow gets even deeper.
It gets so deep that I can’t make it any farther. I know I have to hike back to the meaningless sign, but also know I can’t randomly hike three more miles of difficult terrain to yet another unknown destination. I fall repeatedly as I try to navigate the more difficult trek downhill.
Starting to panic, I realize the only thing I can do is make the long trek back to the lake. The sun is going down. I start to call out. No response. I start to feel sick.
Oh my God. I’m lost in the snow covered Rocky Mountains and it is getting dark.
I sit on a fallen tree and try to think clearly. I’m so stupid! I have nothing with me!
Trying to calm myself. The worst that can happen is a miserable night out here and a lot of humiliation for my stupidity.
Oh my God, I’ll never post this on my blog!
With a combination of despair, panic, and exhaustion, I miserably make the long hike back to the lake, noting the sun’s now ominous descent. I continue to call out for anyone. No response.
Back at beautiful Bierstadt a miracle occurs! Two fisherman coming off the lake!
I yell out to them, “I’m lost and need for you to help me find my way back!”
They glance at each other, nonchalant, “Uh, yeah, no problem.”
Still, there is debate amongst them about how to find the trailhead. They want to head in the direction that I’d just abandoned.
Well, at least being lost with somebody is better than being lost alone.
But, finally, seven hours after starting out my hike, I make it back out. With a clearer head and better map back at the motorhome, I calculate that I hiked almost ten miles in the snow.
This post is long enough, so I’ll spare you too many details of my next hike out.
I’ll just say that, loaded up with enough gear to last in the caves of Afghanistan for a week, I find that for Memorial Day weekend I’d arrived at something more like a family theme park with overcrowded and well worn trails.
Seriously, grandmothers pushing baby strollers were almost knocking me over as I tried to crowd into the (still extraordinary) sights weighted down with my ultimate survival gear.
I wanted to make the hike up to a distant lake to get away from the crowds, but someone on the trail said to me, “You can’t go up there. There’s snow.”
I turned back.
———–
Despite my early educational hiking adventure, I have fallen completely in love with Rocky Mountain National Park. If you visit, get there early in the week for solitary hikes. I stayed at Moraine Park Campground, inside the park, and it was lovely. There were elk in the roadway and you can walk to easy scenic hikes right from your campsite.
Even if you can’t hike much, just riding the shuttle bus up and down the mountain is an extraordinary experience.
The snow made for an adventure, but I think I would still come back early in the season (but maybe with snowshoes). It wasn’t too cold, and the snow makes it look like a magical forest.
12 Comments
Excellent blog post. Sound’s like you’re having the time of your life.
Even though wilderness hiking is one of my favorite pastimes and I’ve been doing it regularly for decades, getting lost in the woods is one of the few things I’m truly an expert at, to the dismay of my wife who usually makes the mistake of trusting that I know where I’m going. The one thing I’ve found most important is to stay calm, and avoid frantically running down the trail in a panic. That’s how a simple wrong turn can quickly change into a series of bad mistakes that puts you in a much worse, and often very serious, situation. I did that once, and my wife and I ended up spending the night in the woods. It was frightening, and she was more than a little annoyed with me. Luckily it was summer so it wasn’t cold, and there were streams all around so we had water, but we were quite hungry. Anyway, you did exactly the right thing – sit down, clear your head, then retrace your steps. As much as it stinks and feels counterproductive to backtrack, I’ve found it’s usually the best course of action. Good job there.
I swear, you should write a book some day. Your writing style is addictive. Got me on the edge of my seat one moment, and laughing out loud the next. Please don’t worry about making your blog posts too long. Can’t wait to read more.
Cheers!
-DM
A hiker’s GPS. Even hand carrying an auto GPS will get you back to your vehicle. If you have a smartphone, you might subscribe to its GPS program. A GPS is a wise investment when venturing off.
Happy & SAFE adventure!
I read you are going to Banff and are in Glacier NP. May I make a route suggestion? On the advice of locals we ran up Canada highways 22 and 40 for great scenery. Your going that way anyway so you might as well get the great views. Pics of it are at
http://wallyandsue.blogspot.com/2009/08/road-trip-canada-pics.html
Keep blogging please, your great!
Hi there,
Have followed your blog for some time now, and, like others, really enjoy your writing.
Am not surprised that you’ve fallen in love with Rocky Mountain National Park; it is a magical place–especially since you’ve managed to visit before the tourist stampede later on in the summer. Spent my summers there for many years. When I first arrived there, it felt like “I was coming home to a place I’d never been before”, to quote John Denver.
If you get the chance, and the road is reasonably free of snow, try driving over Trail Ridge Road. I think you’ll like it.
Keep writing,
Richard and Leah
Pick up a good GPS device and always carry it when your in the back country. Make sure you have fresh batteries with spares. It’s great when your on the road too
I hear trail ridge road is open now. The highest paved road in the US. Grand lake on the west side of the park is pretty as well.
happy to hear you ventured out despite the naysayers and that you got back safe! may be a silly question, but does the park have a trail map for sale? might be a good thing to have in the back pocket if you plan on staying a while?
nothing against the GPS’ers out there, but becoming one with your environment is something i find absent when using one. my arm was twisted into taking a popular brand on my last trip and i didn’t like it at all… compared to the historical map approach, i have come away with little to no memory of the layout of the towns causing me to feel somewhat deprived, maybe the adventurer in me not getting satisfied? for me, a map helps me to establish landmarks because i’m paying attention to the surroundings, a GPS just keeps me focused on the GPS… i bet in the years to come they will find more ways to advertise on them… lol
if at first you do not succeed, try & try again… i bet the more you’d hike, the less you’d find yourself torn on which way to go. would subtle trail markers be out of the question?
i have found navigation to be very relative, wether on trails, roads, even in life, or whatever… new things can take some time to get used to, but if you soak it in and apply yourself, you’ll be suprised on just how familiar things will begin to appear.
i also realy enjoy your writing, not only the style but the content as well. you could write all day, and there i would be, reading.
Hey Jennifer,
I haven’t posted in some time, love your choice of rv, love RMNP, love how you dodged a bullet on your mini hiking adventure. A little misadventure makes you feel alive and thankful on the other side. Good preparation for the rest of your journey.
Steve
I use my iphone for that. Just drop a pin on the GPS when you leave your vehicle and you will always be able to find your way back. Granted, I am doing that in stadium parking lots and whatnot… not in the Rocky mountain wilderness.
To me, that would have totally been worth it just for the experience that that TOP photo. Wooooooooow!!
I have to second the idea of a GPS should you be hiking regularly… but, I’m a gadget junkie (I have at least four GPS’s, not including my phone). I’d skip on getting a GPS service for your phone. With a standard GPS, you only need a few minutes to find satellites and you’re set. With a phone, you need satellites and a cell signal strong enough to get data coverage. Hiking in woods and mountains means you’re probably going to have spotty coverage at best.
Even if you don’t use a handheld GPS for guidance, just marking the start of trail is all you REALLY need… if you get lost, or come to a fork in the trail you don’t recognize, fire up the GPS and check the direction to your start. Even if you prefer maps, just knowing which direction and how far to your start is often enough to figure out where you are on the map.
My personal recommendation would be a Garmin handheld with topographic maps. You can get a fairly small one that’s waterproof for around $200. There’s no substitute for a good map, but a GPS is nice insurance.
Over the years I have found my misadventures, like getting “momentarily confused” (Lost? Not me, never!), make for the best stories and long lasting memories. Most everything in between I have forgotten. And like you, “I’ll never tell anyone or post it in my blog” but I do and it makes for good reading. Looking forward to the next misadventure you share, just be safe.
Thank you for being brave! Very inspirational… just could see myself in that situation laughing, then crying, then laughing, then crying…. These experiences make us stronger, and I hope to be as strong as you.
NEVER trust your life on something that requires batteries.
Sure, bring a GPS if you want, but first buy a compass and take a class to learn how to use it. Use it regularly (monthly) and bring a map. You will never again have that sick feeling in your stomach when you do not recognize the trail. I’ve felt that feeling more than once.
Just my 2 cents.
