Rocky Mountain National Park Day 4: Ypsilon Lake

The night brought another surprise thunderstorm while we were asleep in the tent.  Brilliant lightning lit up the night sky, and heavy rain and gusty winds blew through the campground for hours.  It was further proof of the volatility of mountain weather.  Despite going to bed under starry skies, we climbed out of the tent to find standing water all over the campground.  Our REI tent performed extraordinarily well and we were completely dry again.

We fixed skillets for breakfast and took the time to enjoy an extra cup of coffee before heading out to hike.  Our destination for the day was the trail from the Lawn Lake Trailhead to Ypsilon Lake.  This would be our hardest hike in the park thus far.  The trip up to the mountain lake was 9 miles round-trip, and the trail climbed nearly 2,200 feet.  

We set off under sunny skies with pleasant, cool weather.  The trail wasted no time climbing.  A tightly woven series of switchbacks climbed a couple hundred feet above the valley below.  A large meadow was visible to the south, and several snow-capped mountains loomed in the distance.  

The switchbacks eventually ended and the trail paralleled the Roaring River for a few minutes.  The hiking continued to be uphill, but more gradual along the side of the stream.  This area was the site of a massive and violent flood that swept down the mountainside years ago.  A violent scar remains to this day.  The swath of rocks and mud rose twenty feet on either side of the river, reaching all the way to the valley floor.  

Eventually, we reached the intersection with the trail to Lawn Lake.  Our trail took us across the river on a log bridge.  The rising mass of Ypsilon Mountain was visible by looking up the stream path.  Fishermen tossed flies into the raging currents in a scene that resembled the cover of a Field and Stream Magazine.

The majestic views quickly came to an end, and the trail began a relentless climb through a dense pine forest.  For the next hour and a half we lumbered up hill, breathing heavily as we hiked.  The lack of views added to the treadmill feeling of the hike.  Gradually we began to glimpse a gap in the forest ahead, framed by snow-capped mountains.  

Just when it seemed we could climb no longer, the trail dropped gradually to the shores of small pond.  Beyond the pond, the path climbed through a boulder field before beginning a steep descent to the edge of the lake.  Predictably, the omnious rumble of thunder greeted us to the shores of Ypsilon Lake.  The reliability of the afternoon thunderstorms were truly remarkable.  You could almost set your watch by them.

We picked our way along the shores of the lake, searching for a suitable spot to stop for lunch.  Black clouds passed overhead, seeming to scrape their bottoms on the steep summit of Ypsilon Mountain.  Cold, heavy raindrops began to fall.  It was little more than a light shower at first, but the skies promised more.

We found a spot on a log under a mature pine tree and sat down for lunch.  No sooner had we pulled out our sandwiches than the heavens opened up.   Our spot under the pine tree was remarkably protected.  We stayed mostly dry, eating our lunch while watching the once calm surface of the lake turn into a sea of ripples under the deluge of rain.

Like with most of the storms we have seen here, the weather passed quickly, and soon the  skies  were dry and the threat of severe weather ended.  We watched the lake while hundreds of fish began to jump to the surface, sending small splashes across the water.  Ypsilon Lake was a big lake.  Dense pine trees made it difficult to see into all of the corners.  The mountainsides rising beyond it looked lonely and desolate.  Scars from avalanches and rock slides marred the steep slopes.  

The brief rain storm brought out the first significant batch of mosquitos of our trip. The unwelcome additions to the forest sent us eagerly away from the lake and back down the trail.  By the time we were crossing the Roaring River again, the sun was shining brightly amid puffy white clouds.  

The downhill hiking went faster than the climb had gone, and in no time we were back at the Jeep.  Climbing Mt. Ypsilon had turned out to be quite a work out.  The scenery at the lake was beautiful, but I'm not sure it was worth the 9 miles and 2,000 plus foot elevation gain.

In the evening, we attended another ranger presentation in the Moraine Park Amphitheater.  This program was about unusual animal sightings in Rocky Mountain.  Since the park was designated a wilderness in 2009, a variety of wild animals not usually found in Rocky Mountain have been documented.  Wolves, long since extinct in Colorado, have been making appearances, likely coming down from Idaho and Wyoming.  The park isn't yet sure if a breeding population has been established.  While ranchers would certainly not welcome the return of wolves to Colorado, the park ranger sounded as if the national park system would be eager to see them return to the terrain they once roamed.  

Another hikers spotted a wolverine west of the continental divide.  Wolverines had not been seen in the park before,, but the alpine environment is perfect for them.  Lynx have been reintroduced to Colorado, and the park is on the lookout for the felines.  The only missing animal from what this terrain once was is the grizzly bear.  Maybe they will find their way south to the mountainsides as well one day!

The ranger told a great story about a wedding party in the park a few years ago.  A group decided to get married in the park in the fall.  They posed for the traditional wedding photos in a clearing in front of the forest.  A few days later, when the photos came back, they were shocked to discover a mountain lion standing on the cliff above them, watching the proceedings!  There is something captivating about the wild animals here in the mountains.  With stories of woodland creatures in our heads, we crawled into the tent and got ready to weather another night of turbulent weather.

Rocky Mountain National Park Day 2: Fern Lake

After what felt like the longest day ever, we decided to sleep in at our beautiful and hard-earned campsite.  It was the first morning we had been able to sleep in on in a few days, and the cool weather was ideal for sleeping.  After finally waking up, we fixed a big breakfast in camp while watching some Elk wander through the campground.  

It was one o'clock by the time we reached the trailhead for our day's hike.  The Fern Lake trail climbs over 1,400 feet into the interior of the park, past a couple of large waterfalls to an alpine lake.  

The sun was shining warmly as we headed off down the trail.  The first stretch of the trail was very well-maintained, as it followed the shores of a cascading mountain stream.  The path was wide and easy to follow, and we frequently passed hikers and fly-fishermen heading in both directions.  Steep rock walls rose above the trail in many places and knotted pines grew around and even through the scattered rock ledges and boulders.  Lush, marshy areas were visible alongside the stream, an excellent habitat for moose. 

About thirty minutes into our hike the trail snaked around some massive boulders, relics of the last ice age left behind by retreating glaciers.  The skies had been gradually growing darker as we hiked, a fact we had been able to ignore until the unmistakable sound of thunder echoed down the mountain.  The dark skies looked foreboding against the backdrop of snow and granite mountain tops above.  We briefly considered turning back.  Our hike was entirely below tree line, though, so we figured it was reasonably safe to proceed.  

A few minutes later, rain drops began to fall from the ominous clouds.  We stopped to pull out our rain jackets, peering up nervously at the skies.  The trail eventually arrived at an area called The Pool, a spot on the rushing stream where boulders and logs had blocked up the river just above a small waterfall.  A log bridge crossed the stream just below The Pool.  My hiking guide said that some people swim here, but it looked like a pretty bad idea to me.  The water appeared to be rushing towards the next drop pretty briskly.  

Just past The Pool and the backcountry campsite beyond it, the trail began to climb in earnest.  The forest was suddenly very silent, except for the patter of raindrops on our coats and the occasional crack of thunder high above us.  Thunder takes on a very different quality in the mountains.  The skies seem closer to the land, and the towering mountains catch the sound and send it echoing down in a hundred different directions.  Most of the lightning sounded to be far off, based on the old method of timing the delay before thunder.  One particular flash,  though,  caused us to both duck instinctively, as the crack of thunders sounded mere seconds later!  

The trail climbed consistently over switch backs through the ruins of last year's Fern Lake forest fire.  Dense stands of blackened pine trees adorned the hillsides.  Brilliant green grasses had begun to grow up through the torched landscape, evidence of the regenerative effects of fire.  

As we trudged uphill through the rain, we passed a family heading out on a backpacking trip.  The children looked to be less than ten years old.  I was impressed to see them carrying their own backpacks on the tiring climb.  Near the top of a switchback, the trail passed a thundering waterfall.  Whitewater crashed violently down the mountainside.  Massive downed trees  lined the edges of the stream, having been tossed aside by the terrifying power of falling water.  We stopped for a few photos at the falls before resuming our steady climb.

The trail continued to climb at a moderate pace as the sound of the raging stream fell away.  The thunder and lightning appeared to have stopped, and only a steady light rain was falling as we continued the climb to Fern Lake.  

Fern Lake was a fairly large lake, bordered by towering stands of tall pine trees and framed by steep rock walls on three sides.    A small cabin used by park rangers on the shores of the lake was the only evidence of human activity.  We found a dry spot to sit and eat our lunch under some pine trees.  The air had grown quite cold and the rain more intense, making for a short and chilly lunch stop.  No longer warmed by the exertion of climbing, we were both quickly chilled.  

We snapped a few photos of the lake and then started the return hike.  The family of backpackers passed us shortly, the father now carrying two of his kids' backpacks!  Within fifteen minutes, the rain stopped and the sun came out.  The rest of our hike was a pleasant walk through a beautiful pine forest aided by a cool mountain breeze.  The rapidly changing nature of the weather in the park was something to marvel at.  By the time we reached the trailhead, we were both hot enough to turn on the air conditioning in the Jeep.  The trail to Fern Lake was a beautiful hike, even through a mountain thunderstorm!