1991/10 Rocky Mountain trip - Loch Vale |
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[My trip was in 1991, but this account was written mostly twenty years later, when I thought it was worth describing my weekend in the snow. The photos all came from this trip, but I am uncertain about some of the locations. I don't remember seeing the coyote or the porcupine, but I've included them here for completeness, even if they are a bit fuzzy.]
Setting the scene: It was October 1991 and I was on a company trip to a customer conference in Denver, Colorado, and looking forward to hiking the following weekend in Rocky Mountain national park, just 70 miles away.
I was hoping to see some snowy peaks but all looked to be brown as I flew into Denver. I was giving a number of presentations at the conference so I didn’t get out much. I managed a couple of early morning runs through the streets of Denver, not the prettiest place, but it was good to get some exercise at 5000ft before headting up into the mountains. This was the first conference hosted by the newly merged customer organizations. The companies had merged four years earlier. The new customer organization certainly knew how to party! I was severely hung over and late leaving for my hiking weekend.
On Friday morning I rented a car for the weekend, probably using free coupons or miles, as I remember it being a really cheap trip. It was raining as I left Denver, and sleeting as I drove up towards Estes Park at 7500 feet, where there were about six inches of fresh snow on the ground. The mountains looked to have more; it was going to be a pretty weekend.
I checked into a motel in Estes Park for the sum of $44 for the weekend. This was Estes Park’s off-season, too cold for hikers, not enough snow yet for skiing. I was the only resident and walking down the empty corridors I felt like I was in the Overlook Hotel in The Shining. However, this hotel was a bit tacky, nowhere near as grand, but then it didn’t have blood flowing across the floor either!
I had enough light left for a drive up to Glacier Gorge and a short walk up the Loch Vale trail, I think it was. I quickly found out that a foot of snow is enough to wipe out all conventional traces of what is a trail. It is all too easy to walk off a cliff. I paid very close attention to the gaps between the trees, working out where the likeliest spot was for the trail. I’d turn around every few minutes to view the return path as footsteps can disappear quickly if the wind comes up. Once away from the trees it was easier to find the trail 
and I walked a couple of miles up to a lake. It might have been the Loch, but I don’t remember twenty years on. I do remember that the snow started in earnest as I came to the lake, big flakes driving diagonally and wiping out the view of the mountains. It was also getting late so I sat on a rock and ate my sandwiches and watched the snowstorm.
I wasn’t going to see much more, so I headed back down the trail. My little hike had gone quite well. I’d spent time in the mountains and lots of time out in the snow, but 
this was my first trip in both, so I was feeling a bit macho. I saw a little figure coming up the trail towards me through the snow and gloom. It was a woman wearing a snowsuit and carrying a good-sized backpack.
She said she was heading off into the wilderness for a camping weekend. She came from Thunder Bay, Ontario, so she was used to the cold. Like me, she’d run Grandma’s Marathon a few times. She asked me if I’d take her photograph with her camera. I agreed and was framing her and the snowstorm background when she pulled back the top of her pack to reveal her baby’s head. I was about to ask her if they were on their own but thought that might not be a welcome question, so I asked her what she was planning on camping in. She explained that her husband was back down the trail somewhere carrying their tent and cooking gear. I got the impression that he wasn't performing as expected. I took their picture and wished them a good weekend. I continued back down the trail towards my motel room, not feeling so macho any more. I met her husband a long way down the trail. He looked exhausted; even if he survived the weekend I didn’t give much for his long-term survival. He’d be replaced when he wore out.
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