The morning started out well -- we were ahead of schedule, eating a muffin on the way to the mountains by 7:45 this morning.
We had that wonderful moment we always get on I-70 at Chief Hosa, where suddenly out of nowhere, this dream-like mountain range materializes in front of you.
And. . . . then things got a little turned around.
It would seem that Beaver Meadows is my Bermuda Triangle. I cannot seem to get there. When Courtney visited we tried to get there and couldn't find it. So this morning I had TWO different trail site directions printed off for help. And still, things seemed to disappear off the map. One set of directions said to take CO-74 South. Guess what? From our exit, the only option was CO-74 East. Still, it seemed southerly enough, so we drove 6 miles and didn't find our turn like both sets of directions said we should. My car's navigation (USELESS) wanted to tell us the name of our campground was another state away, in Kansas. Back home, studying the map, we were almost to the right place and turned around maybe half a mile too soon. Why I didn't study the map earlier? I can't tell you, except that the directions seemed so straightforward and easy -- I knew where Evergreen Parkway was, and I was sure CO-74 SOUTH would be a cinch to turn onto. Grrrrr. Better yet, the road we did take could've gotten us there with a single left turn onto a county road that I remember passing. Ah, hindsight and Google maps are mocking me.
So we took the sure thing, which was Squaw Pass road up to Echo Lake.
There had to be 500 bicyclists along those 9 miles, and the whole "share the road" campaign, I might add, should not only apply to cars. Getting around them, especially those who seemed to want to ride three across until the last possible second that I was on their tires, on switchbacks with very difficult lines of sight for anyone, driver or cyclist, had me on edge.
I should mention that Sammi is recovering from some really severe burns she got last Sunday. The next time my daughter who is on a drug that makes her skin incredibly susceptible to the sun's rays asks to go to a water park and swears up and down she will reapply sunscreen EVERY HOUR, I will STILL SAY NO. She did great with her face, arms, and legs. Somehow, not telling her this command meant EVERY exposed area (chest and back anyone?) meant those areas didn't get reapplied. The blisters were awful earlier in the week and the horrible scaling and pain doesn't seem to want to go away. We were just heading up the pass when she said, "Did we bring my lotion?" Turns out I was too obsessed with sunblock and covering her up to remember to remind her to grab her lotion. She's my hiking buddy, and I figured getting her covered up but out of the house into some fresh air would do her good. But without that lotion her skin turns to tight, fire-burning scales. Getting around the cyclists over and over again on a road you just can't go terribly fast on seemed to take an eternity. We stopped at the Lodge and I found some heavy duty body butter to slather on, but by then she was in tears. She took more pain meds, but part of me thought we should just drive back home and give it up.
Instead, I parked by the lake and suggested we just walk around it, and see. We sat by the lake and fed one very green-headed mallard the crumbs from my muffin. We had to laugh at the dives he would take to retrieve those non-floating bits of sugar. Then he'd shake his head like crazy and swim in circles.
There were also hundreds of these lavendar-blue dragon-fly insects all along the trail. They were fun to watch zip around, but as soon as you would stop walking and try to take a picture, they'd all vanish. This little guy was the best I could do.
By the time we had wandered our way to the back side of the lake, Sammi's pain seemed to be subsiding, so we decided to tiptoe our way up towards the Chicago Lakes Trail, and only go as far as she felt like. What I hadn't exactly remembered very well was how steep the incline becomes about .5 miles in. This is me, encouraging Sammi to join me a little further up.
This is Sammi, after giving it the college try.
and she's still smiling!
And then, you're at the top of the ridge looking out over the mountains.
Jennifer, this picture is for you -- I love your homemade lipbalm you sent me. Let's make a commercial!
The boulders here, along with a lot more fallen trees than last summer, make for really difficult hiking. The next mile or so is a scary descent with a ton of switchbacks to the creek. So it was at this point we turned back.
I tried to get a shot showing the different types of rock making up these boulders. Do you see the quartz?
It was one of those warm fuzzy moments when, on the way back down, Sammi said, "I'm glad I came."
And then we were back at the lake and ready to hike the Echo Lake trail up to the Lodge.
With almost no elevation gain and tons of lodgepole pine with lovely shade alongside the lake, it wasn't Beaver Meadows, but who cares?
And there was pie! Chocolate peanut butter for Sammi . . .
And coconut cream for me (with Sammi's piece for company)
Watching out the giant windows eating pie after only a few miles of wandering isn't exactly hard core, but it sure is fun!
Sight #1: Purple corvette guy. He took about 10 minutes petting his baby in her parking spot before daring to leave her.
Sight #2 was our scruffy little hummingbird.
Sight #3 was pink motorcycle dog
And then it was time to head back the way we came.
Sammi's shot here was taken while she was trying to zoom out, and I really like the dreamy effect it made.
It was about the time I was taking this photo that Sammi said, "You're going to run us into the rocks" To which I replied, "No, I'm not. But if I do, you can say I told you so."
We had one last stop, creekside, to get our feet wet. Another quote from the day, via Sammi, "Things are always better when you can take your shoes off."
Well, at least my feet enjoyed the water. This is Sammi's face as soon as she felt it.
Sunroof!
It was a beautiful day with my girl, who soldiers on no matter what and finds ways to make me laugh. As we were going in circles trying to figure out where to turn and how to get to where we wanted to go, I had snidely remarked, "Not all who wander are lost, but some who wander most certainly ARE." The whole "it's not the journey it's the destination" thing wasn't sitting too well when I was wasting time on a highway, yelling at my useless navigation unit, just wanted to GET THERE. But where we got was just as good, if not better, for the day. Sammi might not have made the 4 miles through the Meadow and she might have been in the sun too much on that hike. So Beaver Meadows, I know where you are now, without relying on bad directions or stupid navigation units that don't seem to know I'm in Colorado. I will find you. Just not today.
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