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!
