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September 13-15, 2008, Saturday-Monday Parika Lake 11400, 13T 420400mE, 4470500mN 15.6 Miles, 3168’ Never Summer , Grand County, I almost decided to work instead of going on this hike. Work had been really busy and there seemed to be no hope of catching up without some weekend work. But, fortunately, Bob talked me into the hike with some of the same logic I had used on co-workers over the years. What was I thinking anyway!

We had planned to drive over from Niwot. But two days of steady rain in the plains apparently dumped enough snow in the higher elevations that the Department of Transportation had closed the scenic alpine road over the Continental Divide. Trail Ridge Road ascends to about 12300’ on its winding route through Rocky Mountain National Park. Due to the closure we arrived at our destination by taking I-70 to US-40 to US-34. Bob met me at my house and we hit the road about eight am.

We arrived at the trailhead at about 10 am. We initially parked in a paved lot just off of US-34 but noted a gravel road continued across the to the forest about a half a mile to the west. Bob asked the driver of a van coming out if there was another parking lot at the end of the road. The affirmative answer had us back in the car. The gravel lot at the trailhead was just about full of vehicles. Hunting season was upon us and we surmised that a number of those vehicles must belong to hunters. We readied our gear and were on the trail at about 10:20. We hiked south about ten minutes to the first real sign and found that we were heading toward Bowen Gulch. We had planned to hike up Baker Gulch. The sign verified what we had suspected, the Baker Gulch trail was the other direction. We were back at the car and on the right track at 10:40. We noticed a trail taking off to the west of the road but decided to stay on the road. The road teed and went west and we soon passed the other end of the trail we had noted. If we were to take this hike again we would take that trail and probably shave a hundred yards off the hike. So far the trail was flat, probably varying less than 20 feet in elevation. The hike was on now and we soon passed the Arapaho National Forest boundary sign. The sign included the normal USFS information plus some information about the area restrictions. From the sun faded map we deduced, after much discussion, that camping was prohibited in the four sections along the east edge of the forest, which borders Rocky Mountain National Park. It was hard to deduce though from the faded map. We continued on after a brief scare that we would not be able to camp in Baker Gulch.

Baker Trail generally follows Baker Creek on a steady ascent. At about 9300’ we walked in the first snow on the trail. At the trail head we had taken in some beautiful views of the snow covered Baker Mountain. The trail was dry and easy walking so far. In the shade of the trees the trail was covered in snow, but only inches deep. We followed the boot prints of at least a few hikers who had hiked up the same morning. Even though we walked in the snow the hike was relatively easy. But the snow was covering more and more of the trail as we gained elevation. By the time we were at 10000 feet snow covered more of the trail than not. At the Baker Pass / Parika Lake fork we went left and the other boots went right, toward Baker Pass.

We found a dry area in the sun and took a snack break at 10200’, 2.8 miles into the hike, and thirteen hundred feet higher than the trailhead. As we ate some jerky, cheese, sausage and crackers we heard a machine. At first it was merely noise, but before long it was evident it was a tractor of some sort. We had entered the and Arapaho National Forest when we left Rocky Mountain National Park. So we knew that no machines were allowed in the area. Yet, we heard one. It sounded like it was grading a road. We guessed that it was working on the road along what at one time was called the Grand River Ditch. This irrigation ditch was dug mostly by hand in the 1930s and diverts water from Baker

1 Creek, at 10300’, over at 10179’ and into Long Draw Reservoir. The reservoir feeds the and faucets in Fort Collins and farms east of Fort Collins. The ditch is still used every summer. The ditch may have a limited lifetime, however, because the National Park Service has been spending some of its time arguing in court that the water taken from Baker Creek is also needed for wildlife habitat in the high Colorado River valley.

We bummed about the noise from the tractor while we munched our snacks. After twenty minutes we donned our packs and hiked on. The tractor had moved far enough that we could barely hear it. In a few minutes we hiked onto the maintenance road. A machine had indeed been working along the ditch. There were fresh signs of dirt and rocks being removed from the ditch, and track marks along the gravel road. The machine was nowhere in sight and could no longer be heard. Baker Trail quickly exits the road and continues the climb toward Baker Pass and Parika Lake. The ditch traverses the mountain to Baker Creek.

In maybe another quarter mile we came upon the fork in the trail: to the north the trail to Baker Pass (11253’); to the west, the trail to Parika Lake, about a mile and a half further and a thousand feet up. The snow was a half a foot deep when we started up the Parika Lake Trail. We encountered some switchback hiking and deeper snow as we got higher. By the time we were at the lake the snow was over a foot deep. Not a footprint was to be found until we marred the smooth white surface. We arrived on a hill on the east shore of the lake at about 1:40 PM.

It was cold and breezy at the lake. As soon as I offloaded my pack I changed from my moist cotton shirt to a dry polyester sweater, gloves and a coat. The less than fair weather and the rigorous hike up discourages a lot of people from going up to a place like Parika, which makes it all the more appealing. We recalled the guy driving the van at the trailhead parking lot who had asked why we would want to go up here.

We spent a lot of time taking in the visual treat. The big round bowl surrounding the lake to the west was pure white, broken only by the rugged rocks and patches of scrubby spruce, and framed by the crisp clear blue sky. To the east was a view too perfect to adequately describe. , some 20 miles to the southeast, rose above the snow-covered peaks and tundra in Rocky Mountain National Park. Dark green spruce forests filled the higher mountains below the snow line. And below the spruce, all the way down to the Colorado River valley were mountains of beetle killed pine, reflecting orange in the sunlight. On our side of the valley was the spruce covered Baker Gulch.

Parika Lake is a couple of hundred feet above tree line. But there were some patches of scrubby spruce growing near the lake. I walked around the west end of the lake looking for a good place to pitch the tent. Where I had dropped my pack was about the best site, but I walked across the creek to some other areas searching for something better. I was looking for a place that might be out of the wind and sheltered as much as possible. I settled on the first place I had considered: where I had dropped my pack. A small hill with a patch of the scrubby spruce gave some protection against wind from the pass and peaks to the east. Bob lightly stamped out a flat square in the fresh snow for the tent and I set it up. By the time that was done I had become cold again so I put long pants over my shorts.

Before we set up the tent Bob had walked up to a

2 crest east of the lake that overlooked Baker Gulch. The wind had blown the hill clear of snow and he laid down to take in the view. Before long he was also cold and coming off the hill. By then I had added some clothing and was headed up to the same crest with the camera.

The snow was deep enough to make walking around more of a chore than it had to be. The 11400’ elevation did not help matters either. But Bob and I decided to walked around the lake, beginning on the north east side. We could see fish rising all over the lake, but every time we approached the water they quickly retreated toward the middle of the lake. We were able to see some of the wakes, but none of the fish. It was easy to be seen against the white landscape and the fish were not interested in meeting any visitors. The lake is only about three acres and roughly shaped like a horseshoe. The creek exits the lake from the southeast corner of the horseshoe. To the west of the lake is a meadow bigger than the lake, but this day it was a snow meadow. Four mountains form the big cirque that forms the lake: Fairview Mountain at 12246’, Parika Peak at 12394’, and two unnamed peaks, to the north and south, both as tall as Fairview. The line formed by the peaks separates Jackson County from Grand County, and forms a small part of the Continental Divide. The whole of the cirque is above timberline and only the steep rough rock on the slopes were visible through the snow. By the time we walked back to camp the sun was getting pretty low, almost to the peaks, casting long shadows over the hills in valleys below. But camp was still in the sun.

Bob fired up his liquid fuel stove to cook some bean soup. While the water warmed up we munched on some chocolate and rolls. After we ate we cleaned up the utensils with snow. There was still some sunlight left when we finished up. Bob noticed some mountain goats way up on the ridge to the north. We scoped them out with the binoculars. A steady wind blew from the west, over the ridges of white snow. It was getting cold. It wasn’t long before we hit the sack. During the night when I repositioned my body, at least a handful of times, I could hear the wind blowing the tent pretty wildly. The wind continued most of the night. It was warm in the sleeping bag though.

Dawn over the Rocky Mountain National Park high country, from Parika Lake 11400’

We woke up shortly after it got light and I was out of the tent before direct sunlight was on any of the peaks. It was still cold, although not too much below freezing, I think Bob’s thermometer read 28º. The lake was still liquid. The mountain goats were still hanging out up on the ridge, as if they had been partying up there all night. There were probably six or eight of them. I watched the sunlight light up the brilliant white peaks to the southwest. To the east the peaks in Rocky Mountain National Park stood black below the bright glow of the sunrise in the clear blue sky. And the guy asked us why we would want to go up here!

3 Within the hour we were packed and ready to hike over the saddle between Parika Peak and Fairview Mountain. We could see the trail wind around the lower bowl of the big cirque before switching back and forth a couple of time on the way up the 500-foot ascent. We estimated an hour to cover the mile to the saddle. The hike up was slow mainly because of the deep snow. Bob broke trail nearly the whole way. On the switchbacks the snow had blew off somewhat and the walking was far easier. We actually made pretty good time on the switchbacks. When we reached the saddle the wind was blowing hard, no gale, but definitely cold, especially after the hike up. I immediately broke out more clothes and bundled up. It was 9:30, we had left camp at 8:30. To the east Grand County and the Atlantic watershed, to the west Jackson County and the Pacific watershed.

Parika Lake lay in the hole below. Our footsteps marked the snow all the way up. A crazy black line marked the creek into the lake. We did not hang out in the cold wind too long and started on our way to the south. We had wondered where the trail would go once we reached the saddle. The topo map had not been updated in many years and didn’t show a trail here. We could recall from the newer national forest map that the trail wound around Fairview Mountain. From the saddle we could plainly see the trail skirting the north side of Fairview, ascending another couple hundred feet in several hundred yards. We started up the trail in the wind.

When I donned my pack at Parika Lake I noticed the waist belt was frayed badly. It almost was severed completely. It took a moment to realize that a critter had been trying to get into the pack, where we had stored the food for the night. Bummer! Plus the evening before I had noticed the zipper on one of my gaiters was about shot. As I walked up to the saddle that morning it failed completely. I tied my left pant leg to my boot, in a gaiter of sorts, to keep the snow out of the boot. I had two equipment failures within an hour on this hike.

Just after we skirted the north side of Fairview we came to the high point on the trail at about 12200’. From that point the view in every direction was spectacular. To the west low-lying clouds covered parts of North Park. Ten miles to the west, just south of North Park, the snow covered rose above the dark spruce and brown pine in the . The pure white snow on Fairview Mountain, Bowen Mountain and Ruby Mountain to the west and south would form the source of the Illinois River when it melted. Bowen Pass crossed the snow filled saddle between Bowen Mountain and Ruby Mountain.

Bowen Mountain (12524’), Ruby Mountain (12008’) and Parkview Mountain (12296’)

The Illinois River gets its start from the moisture in the valley between us and Bowen Pass, maybe a straight line mile away, but two miles on a trail which we could clearly see crossing the snow below. The trail would also take us down about a thousand feet before we climbed back up five hundred feet to Bowen Pass. We eyeballed the area and did some scouting before deciding to traverse the south slope of Fairview Mountain to the trail in the valley below. We would save maybe a mile and two or three hundred feet of lost elevation. The unknown was what the south slope would do in the parts that we could not see from the ridge. We hoped that there would not be rocks that we could not hike over. We took in the view a bit more, put on our packs and started across the steep slope, moving down hill as we hiked. We made it almost to the trail when we found some rather nasty rocks, considering the snow. But we made our way down the rocks to the trail and then started back up toward Bowen Pass. We were happy with our decision. Soon we were on top of Bowen Pass, marked by a six foot tall, round pole anchored in a pile of rocks. We would have no more significant hills to hike over.

4 Hiking down the east slope from Bowen Pass was easy stuff compared to the other hiking we had done since we left the car. There was plenty of snow, but we were going downhill, and we were walking in footprints made earlier by some other high country visitor. The other folks had hiked over the pass toward the west. On the both sides of the pass we had seen a set of dog tracks with the boot prints. It looked like two or three people had walked over the pass, one with the dog. The person with the dog had possibly hiked up from the Illinois River valley. But they all had cut into the trees at one place or another.

The west side of Bowen Pass in these Never Summer Mountains was another winter wonderland. Snow covered everything but the rugged steep rocks on the slopes of Bowen and Ruby Mountains, from the peaks down into the dark timber. The cloudless sky was deep blue. We stood well above timberline and could see the trees growing more and more dense as the elevation decreased. The path wound its way down the slopes from where we stood on Bowen Pass into the timber. Ruby Lake lay hidden from view on the east slope of Ruby Mountain. We could see the creek flowing down the slope into the trees. About ten minutes from the pass Bob and I stopped to shed some clothes. It had warmed up considerably as soon as we had left the pass and the wind

It was not long before the snow began to diminish. The trail had a set of horseshoe prints coming up; probably a hunter. We saw a few elk prints too. After we were in the trees for about a mile we came to the fork to either Bowen Lake or Bowen Gulch. We kept on the Bowen Gulch trail. Shortly after the fork we came to the trail to Blue Lake and the snow was all but gone. We were at 10200’ and summer had seemed to return to the Never Summer Wilderness. We took a break in the sun at the Blue Lake fork and Bob talked me into hiking up to Blue Lake. After 10 minutes of munching on food and relaxing we donned the packs and started up to Blue Lake. The distance was less than a mile and the elevation gain was about 500 feet. We figured it would take close to an hour; it did.

The hike was relatively easy, even though it was a steady uphill hike. Most of the trail was in the sun, which started just below Wolverine Mine, tracked due west and then contoured around and up the lower south slope of Bowen Mountain and eventually headed back north. Below the trail spruce and pine grew fairly densely. We hiked high above the tree tops and could see the brown stands of beetle killed pine. Further down the valley the brown was widespread. The trail comes onto Blue Lake abruptly, out of the sun and into spruce. Once again, it was nice to lose the packs

We sat on logs that had clogged the outlet end of the lake and filled up water bottles with Bob’s Katadyn water filter. The Katadyn worked a lot better than the filter I had at home, filling a water bottle in seconds rather than many minutes.

Blue Lake, 10690’

The lake was as pretty as most that I have seen. Trees nearly surrounded the lake, there weren’t any meadows bordering the shore as is typical for these high country lakes. The water was clear and a slightly turquoise in color and it looked to be deep. Against the dark timber it was a tempting invite for camping. The smooth water was disturbed only by the rising fish. I saw a lot of fish cruising the shore as I walked around. That was a tempting invite to toss a fly, but I had not brought any fishing gear. I was glad Bob had talked me into hiking up. We had talked about stashing the packs at the fork in the trail but had decided to

5 bring them up in case we wanted to stay. However, we were interested in getting as far down the mountain as we could that evening so that the morning hike would be brief, and we could get on the road back home (or work) early. But we lugged the packs up just in case.

Bob hung out and unlaxed and I explored the banks of the lake as I walked all the way around it. There were only two campsites that I could find, one where the trail comes onto the lake, and the other at the opposite end of the round three acre lake. The spruce were fairly dense around the lake and up the slopes from the lake. On the south side of the lake, on a southeast facing slope, the spruce were dark and snow lingered beneath them. At the time of day we were there, that slope and that side of the lake were in the shade of the 12084’ mountain that is another crest in the south ridge of Bowen Mountain (12524’). As I walked around that shore of the lake I looked for an easier access to the back campsite than was offered on the northeast shore. Except for a few spots where the slope into the lake was too steep and had no real shore, this side would provide a camper with an easier journey. Snow still covered Bowen Mountain to the northwest.

I met up with Bob after I completed my tour and we agreed to start down the trail again. The lake was exceptionally nice, but we still wanted to make an early start on the road in the morning. We put on the packs and started back toward Bowen Trail.

On the hike down it was easy to see the beetle damage in the valley, at least on the upper half of the trail. As we dropped into the trees all we could see were the green spruce, not affected by the hungry beetle. The trail never really traveled in the shade of these spruce, it skirted the edge of the trees. We arrived at the fork and Bowen Trail in about 40 minutes.

We hiked right past the fork, although Bob stopped to lose his jacket. We hiked down the trail and after about an hour we crossed Bowen Creek two times in about a quarter of a mile. We checked the topo and GPS to see that we were pretty close to west edge of Section 2 of R76WT4N . Sections 2 and 4, as well as Sections 26 and 35 of R76WT5N, were off limits to camping. These are the mile square sections that border Rocky Mountain National Park in the Baker Gulch and Bowen Gulch area. We needed to find a place to camp before we got into Section 2. It was easy to find sites. We found one where someone else had camped at sometime in the past, as evidenced by the tell tale fire ring.

I set the tent up about halfway between the trail and Bowen Creek. Bob prepared a dinner of spaghetti. I had been looking forward to that all day. I sliced some sausage into the sauce for some added flavor. When we were finished Bob tied the food over a branch so no critters would be tempted. We finished well before sunset. Fires were allowed but we would not have one. Instead we explored the area around the campsite. We even sat watching a meadow, hoping for some animal to show up. None did, but then after a half an hour we tired of that and began walking around more. The moon would be a full that night, but we were sacked out before it even got dark. It was much warmer than the previous evening but it was good to get in the sleeping bag; we had covered eight miles and 2500 feet of elevation that day.

We were up shortly after light in the morning. We had no breakfast and packed up quickly. The inside of the tent was covered with dew. We probably should have left a vent open for ventilation. But I packed it up and we were hiking down the trail by 7:30. Almost immediately we came to a USFS sign detailing the rules in Section 2. We had camped just outside of Section 2. We looked at the restrictions again and noted that the placard there was much less faded than the placard at Baker Gulch. We hiked on. It was less than another half a mile to the fork in the trail that took us north toward the trail head. The trail also continued east, probably to another trailhead that was not well marked on any of the maps that we had. We needed to head north though to get to the car.

Once we entered Section 2 we could hear elk bugling. At first I thought it might be elk in the meadow along the Colorado River. Then I thought it might be hunters calling elk in the area. More and more bugling sounded and I wondered if there were that many hunters, or that many elk. Neither would surprise me. I had experienced many hundreds of elk in Moraine Park on the east side of the Park. The bugling was crazy there. But then I also knew that the trail was an easy walk from parking lots, and the lazy hunters would be in the area. The puzzle was answered shortly as we hiked past two lazy hunters calling elk along the trail.

6 They may have been lazy but their bugle skill had me wondering if we were hearing elk or hunters. Both were black-powder rifle hunters, dressed in both camouflage and in the required blaze orange hunting vest. Bob asked what the sense of both was. I had no answer.

Baker Creek comes out of Baker Gulch and then turns south on the east edge of the big meadow along the Colorado River, not joining the river until south of Bowen Gulch. The trail passes within feet of the creek in places and eventually crosses the creek just before the trailhead parking lot. We had hiked some of this trail two days earlier when we were locating the Baker Gulch trail. Just prior to crossing the two log foot bridge over Baker Creek we passed the National Forest boundary sign and entered Rocky Mountain National Park again. The car was still there. We put the gear in the car, changed into more comfortable shoes, sandals in my case, started the car and began the ride home. The icy window and our into-the-sun direction forced us to stop and clean the windshield. We were on the road at 8:30.

Baker Mountain (snow covered on left) from the trail head at the Colorado River, Sept. 13, 2008

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