Up & Over 1

Johnny Jones, 20 July 2002
Guest Columnist: Amy Jones

I hadn't expected too many extreme hikes during our vacation in the Rockies. After all, it was a vacation, a time to relax and have fun. So we did. Each morning, the guys (my dad, uncle, and brother) cooked a real "manly" breakfast, with eggs (with all kinds of interesting variations of vegetables, salsa, and other various elements) and bacon or sausage and biscuits. So we started out hiking a few hours later, after all the relaxing, cooking and cleaning up.

But we did do enough hiking to at least make up for some of the calories. Our first hike was up to a lake, only three or four miles away, but with enough of a climb to make all of us breathe hard. Of course, the lake was not the only highlight of the hike. We stopped to have our sandwiches at some rocks by a roaring waterfall. A chipmunk joined us, begging me for food and even perching on my foot. An exotic bird of brilliant blue color also surveyed us from a tree limb.

Right before the lake, we hiked through some snowdrifts - even while we were sweating. Because snow is so plentiful and self-insulating in the Rockies, snowdrifts continue even into July. When we reached the lake, an unusual sense of peace came over me. I had read about the peace of a cool mountain lake, but had never experienced this feeling before. The lake was small, surrounded by trees, completely quiet. I simply needed to sit and look at it to be refreshed. Surely this was the diametric opposite of our haste, our hurry, traffic jams and concrete. It was exquisite in peace and privacy.

Yet our lake hike was just the beginning of many, many wonders. None of our hikes were disappointing; the beauty was clear, distinct, marvelous every day. But our last day was to be the most glorious, the most strenuous.

My brother and I had planned it, not without a little trepidation on my part. Could we really hike all the way across the Continental Divide? It was to be a hike of at least 15 miles. We would have to hike up to Flattop Mountain, across a stretch of the Divide, and back down to the other side of Rocky Mountain National Park. If we didn't cross over the divide, back down to the tree line on the other side by noon, we would be in danger of lightning strikes. And snowbanks would cover some of path crossing the divide. Besides this, I had been having some problems with my right knee.

We headed out early in the morning, before sunrise. We had packed several liters of water and plenty of food. In fact, I had a canteen plus a fanny pack with three bottles of water, and more water on my back. We started out climbing steeply, and I felt the weight of those liters of water on my hips.

We hiked swiftly, aware that we would need to hike four miles up to the mountain's peak, and another several miles across the divide to the tree line before noon. It turned out not to be a problem: we were there two hours ahead of schedule.

We had several unforgettable moments. There were the lakes nesting in mountain valleys which we surveyed from high above, the same lakes we had hiked to on our shorter hikes during the week. Before, we had seen them from up close: Emerald Lake, Bear Lake, Dream Lake: names fitting their beauty. From high above, they were also beautiful, but appeared insignificant in size. We took pictures to show our parents what they were like from this perspective.

As we climbed higher, I found myself constantly looking back, to the side. Ahead of us (we were now above tree line) were rocks and grass, a placid view but not spectacular. But to the right and behind us stood and endless flow of mountains, like so many gigantic ocean waves frozen in time and suspended forever. They extended as far as we could see: we were completely engulfed in them, and they grew more hazy and mystical the farther away they stood. We could not get enough of this beauty.

But our hike was not even halfway done; there were many more surprises in store. I'll share the rest next week.