Day 18 – Brainard Lake, Day 2

Miles traveled: 0
Hours on Road: 0
States covered: 1 –Colorado

We got up at 6 a.m., but after having coffee and cereal and performing all other morning rituals, we didn’t start our hike until about 8 a.m. Speaking of morning rituals, the outhouse by us is amazingly disgusting. As has been determined by now, I am not a picky camper. But this outhouse has made me gag on more than one occasion. I don’t think I’ve ever smelled anything quite like it. If I don’t keep my mouth covered the entire time I’m in there, I get a little queasy. We’ve been going down to the one by the picnic area, which is closer to the lake and about a quarter mile from our site, but most definitely worth the time and effort.

Wilson had planned to take us on the Pawnee Pass trail. We even told our neighbors that we were doing that hike, and they said they were as well. We hiked up through pine trees that were scrawny but thickly grouped. We crossed a river, as seems the norm around here what with all the glacial melting. Just past the bridge was a gorgeous field of wildflowers. Wilson knew the names of several flowers we saw along the hike: columbine, little pink elephant ears, panstemon, and alpine buttercup. There were lots of different colors so it was amazing to see.

We crossed over another, wider river. It did not run as fiercely as the first, but it was larger. The bridge this time was made of two logs laid side by side then sawn to flatness on top.

We arrived at Mitchell Lake, as the sign at the bottom had said we would. We met an older man there who does a nature blog and who told us that he’d been told there was a moose in the area. We never did see one. What he also told us was that we were not on the trail to Pawnee Pass but the trail to Blue Lake, which he said is also a great hike. We didn’t care where we ended up, the trail was scenic no matter which direction we went.

We passed a couple more smaller lakes before getting to Blue Lake. We went up in elevation from 10,300 feet at Brainard Lake to 11,500 feet. We all seemed to be doing well despite the higher elevation. We felt so well, in fact, that we hiked past the lake, over a couple of small rivers that started at glaciers and ended in the lake, and across a glacier that angled down about 100 yards into the lake. I had no problem crossing the glacier, and we continued even further. Past the glacier we saw a marmot, then we kept seeing them. They make an odd squeaking sound, and at one point Trey appeared to have a conversation with one. Past the glacier, where the marmots were, was a giant boulder field. That was a blast to cross over. We were about 500 feet from the top of the mountain when we sent the boys on ahead to pose on the huge glacier sitting on the face of the mountain. In the middle of the glacier were some bare rocks; we told the boys to go sit on them. They sat on the first set of rocks; we yelled for them to go higher. They went to the middle of the next set of rocks; we told them to go higher. They finally got as high as they could on the rocks, we got some good photos, and then they headed back. We could see Trey’s mouth moving as he came down the glacier. He would up on the wrong side of a river that was coming off the ice, and we told him to go the other way. That’s when we could clearly hear him grumbling: “Ya know, that wasn’t easy.” “It was higher than you think.” “I’d like to see you try that.” He was mad at us for a good 15 minutes after that.

We went up a little higher, but the rocks seemed to be getting less stable, so we turned around. On the way back, Trey turned his ankle, and we heard about it the rest of the day. Actually, he turned his ankle three times, to hear him tell it; he was nearly crippled by his bad luck.

When we reached the glacier we had crossed, Wilson had the boys standing in the middle of it waiting for Jeff and me to catch up for a great photo op. The only problem was, I began to panic about crossing it in this direction. Crossing it the first time had been no problem; I stood up straight and walked across like any self-respecting individual would do. But this direction was not working for me. I told the boys they had to get over to the other side before I would even begin. Jeff was behind me, and he held my hand in support of the first step. I began to put my right foot out, but then I pulled it back. I did that about four times before I finally accepted that this was something I had to do. The worst that would happen is I would slide all the way down the glacier and land in the lake. I’d be a little cold; but I should be alive. I took the first step, still holding Jeff’s hand behind me. Then I took a couple more steps. It was about 30 feet across. I was digging my feet in because the top of the glacier was really just soft, icy snow. By the middle of the crossing, the panic set in. I let go of Jeff’s hand and grabbed for a handhold. But you can’t grab snow. Well, you can grab it, but then it just comes with you. I started to get wobbly and began breathing hard and fast. I could picture the slide I was going to take. I got my feet to move again, and as I chanted, “Panicking, panicking, panicking.” I made my way across to the other side, where I sat down to catch my breath.

As we all sat there waiting for me to gather myself, Cal threw a rock into the lake. These boys are always throwing rocks! Then Trey threw one that landed in the middle of the glacier, and Truman took off to get it. We all screamed for Truman to come back. He put on the brakes about 20 feet down the glacier and was able to stop himself from sliding into the lake. Then we all screamed at Trey for throwing the rock. The poor boy; he was only doing what came naturally. He didn’t stay upset with us for too long this time around.

By the time we got back to Blue Lake it was really crowded. Wilson had said that’s why we should go early, and he was right. The walk back down the trail was not as much fun as the walk up, though it was much easier since it was downhill. It wasn’t as fun because we were all exhausted. When we got back to the campsite we all took it easy. The boys had a great time playing board games in the tent while Uncle Wilson cooked chicken over the charcoal grill. By the time the chicken was done, Cal and Parker were asleep, but they got up for the non-slacker chicken.

Our neighbor who had actually done the Pawnee Pass trail came by later that evening. His wife had come by earlier because she was concerned about how long he and the two others he was climbing with were taking. It turns out, it took them a good eight hours to complete the hike. They'd looked for us along the way. Even as he spoke, we could see that distant look in his eye; the look of someone still in shock from exhaustion.

By evening we were filthy from all the dust along the trail. There aren’t any showers or sinks at this campground, so we just keep getting filthier by the day. I may have dreadlocks by the time you all next see me. Around my ankle area is a clear line marking where my socks go up to, but the darkness above the line isn’t tan, as one may first suspect. It’s dirt.

We all went to bed around 8 p.m. because the plan was to get up around 2 a.m. for a hike to the top of Mt. Audubon to watch the sunrise. We’d already lost Jeff as a hiking partner. When Wilson saw how swollen his ankle still was from his sprain earlier in the week, he said there was no way Jeff was going to be able to make this hike. It’s all boulder and rock. He went to bed early, anyway.

For corresponding photos, go to:
http://www5.snapfish.com/snapfish/thumbnailshare/AlbumID=1892670027/a=2740108027_2740108027/otsc=SHR/otsi=SALBlink/COBRAND_NAME=snapfish/