I decided to have a little middle-of-the-week adventure by heading up to Ward, CO yesterday morning and hiking back to Brainard Lake.
I had been back to the Brainard Lake/Indian Peaks area this past summer and been blown away by the scenery, so I filed away the thought in the back of my mind that I’d like to return sometime in the winter. I knew the road is closed at the winter-gate (about midway back to Brainard Lake) and you have to hike/ski/snowshoe the rest of the way in, but I figured this would just add to the adventure.
Down in the Denver/Boulder area (we live halfway between), we’ve had some pretty mild weather lately, but as I was winding my way up Boulder Canyon on CO 119 toward Nederland, signs of winter (snow) began appearing. By the time I swung onto CO 72 (The Peak-to-Peak Highway) and headed north toward Ward, drifting snow covered the road in places, so I had to proceed carefully. About this time, I started to notice how incredibly windy it was up there.
After arriving in the metropolis of Ward (population: 170), I made it up the access road to the winter-gate closure with no problem and parked the Saturn. As the first faint light of dawn was beginning to color the sky to the east, I got out of the car and bundled up & loaded up, thinking, “Man, it’s a bit windy up here!” So much so that I wondered if I wanted to battle such a monstrous head wind the entire way back to the lake. But, being a stubborn Swede (with a healthy dose of hard-headed Scots thrown in for good measure), I decided I’d start off and could always simply turn around & return to the car if conditions warranted it. (The main winter “trail” back to Brainard Lake from the closure gate is actually the road, so I knew I wouldn’t be in any danger… except from the cold & snow.)
As I started off, the trail/road was mostly snow covered, but blown clear in a few spots. In a few places, there were some healthy drifts on one side of the road or the other, but where this occurred, the other side was always still hike-able. About every five minutes or so, a particularly vicious gust of wind would come barreling down the road and stagger me (keep in mind I’m 6’2”, weigh a shade over 200 lbs, and also had on a 20 lb pack). It was quite a blustery day, as Winnie the Pooh would say.
About halfway into the hike, I thought pretty seriously about turning around. Mostly because I doubted, what with this brutal wind & blowing snow, that I’d be able to photograph anything at all even once I made it back to the lake. I also have Reynaud’s, which leaves me dangerously susceptible to frostbite in my hands & feet. Normally, the blood vessels in a person’s extremities will expand in bitter cold (increasing blood flow & therefore warmth), but with someone who has Reynaud’s, the blood vessels actually constrict in the cold. For example, my hands will turn blue even in an air-conditioned room, and I’d walk the dog in winter and if I didn’t take the time to put on several layers of socks, I’d come in & a few of my toes would be bone-white from lack of circulation.
But I decided to press on (life is an adventure, remember?!). As the light increased, it was actually very beautiful out, with the wintry landscape & especially the snow-draped pine trees, and ice crystals swirling through the air in the great gusts of wind.
Just before reaching the lake, there was about a hundred-yard stretch of the ‘trail’ where three-feet of snow covered the entire road. It didn’t look any better down in the trees, so I just started to slog through it, knowing I was almost to the lake. Then I came around a curve in the road and saw a five-foot drift across the road. Yikes. So then I did go down into the trees to get around the drift. After that, though, I was at the lake and the road had been blown clear by the winds.
The ferocious wind & blowing snow were pitiless once I left the shelter of the trees that line the road, so I quickly headed over to the bathrooms off the parking lot. I didn’t have to go, but by that time I just wanted to get out of the wind for a few minutes. Unfortunately, there were four-foot snowdrifts piled up against the bathroom doors, so I had to settle for huddling behind the leeward side of the small shelter. After about ten minutes of shivering there, the sun was actually coming up over the horizon and I could see that even in the midst of all that blowing snow a bit of alpenglow was going to paint the landscape with that lovely, otherworldly illumination which you have to see to believe. So I decided to head out into the open ground on the east shore of the lake and see what I could see. Well, once I got out there, the wind was battering me so hard I could barely stand upright, the blowing snow made it almost impossible to face west for more than a few seconds at a time, and the Indian Peaks were covered in clouds. Huh.
I managed to snap off two quick shots and that was that. Time to skedaddle.
Once I started back down the ‘trail’ and into the shelter of the trees that line the road, things were much better (relatively speaking). Plus, I had quite the nice tail wind pushing me along now! I retraced my steps all the way back to the car, and was none the worse for wear once I got the heater cranked up.
You know, standing (leaning into the wind) there on the frozen shore of Brainard Lake, in a hurricane of driven snow, shivering in the bitter cold, I thought, “Rich, you are such an idiot! You could still be in your warm bed right now! And you still have to go to work later! Think of how tired you’re going to be tonight!” But then I realized there was no place I’d rather be in that moment, and nothing else I’d rather be doing. Life is an adventure, and yesterday morning I had a little adventure hiking back to Brainard Lake. I wouldn’t have traded that experience for anything. (Okay, I have to admit, I was pretty tired last night at work, but life is for the living, and I’ll get enough sleep when I’m dead.)
Thanks for reading about stuff I’ve photographed. ~Rich
I had been back to the Brainard Lake/Indian Peaks area this past summer and been blown away by the scenery, so I filed away the thought in the back of my mind that I’d like to return sometime in the winter. I knew the road is closed at the winter-gate (about midway back to Brainard Lake) and you have to hike/ski/snowshoe the rest of the way in, but I figured this would just add to the adventure.
Down in the Denver/Boulder area (we live halfway between), we’ve had some pretty mild weather lately, but as I was winding my way up Boulder Canyon on CO 119 toward Nederland, signs of winter (snow) began appearing. By the time I swung onto CO 72 (The Peak-to-Peak Highway) and headed north toward Ward, drifting snow covered the road in places, so I had to proceed carefully. About this time, I started to notice how incredibly windy it was up there.
After arriving in the metropolis of Ward (population: 170), I made it up the access road to the winter-gate closure with no problem and parked the Saturn. As the first faint light of dawn was beginning to color the sky to the east, I got out of the car and bundled up & loaded up, thinking, “Man, it’s a bit windy up here!” So much so that I wondered if I wanted to battle such a monstrous head wind the entire way back to the lake. But, being a stubborn Swede (with a healthy dose of hard-headed Scots thrown in for good measure), I decided I’d start off and could always simply turn around & return to the car if conditions warranted it. (The main winter “trail” back to Brainard Lake from the closure gate is actually the road, so I knew I wouldn’t be in any danger… except from the cold & snow.)
As I started off, the trail/road was mostly snow covered, but blown clear in a few spots. In a few places, there were some healthy drifts on one side of the road or the other, but where this occurred, the other side was always still hike-able. About every five minutes or so, a particularly vicious gust of wind would come barreling down the road and stagger me (keep in mind I’m 6’2”, weigh a shade over 200 lbs, and also had on a 20 lb pack). It was quite a blustery day, as Winnie the Pooh would say.
About halfway into the hike, I thought pretty seriously about turning around. Mostly because I doubted, what with this brutal wind & blowing snow, that I’d be able to photograph anything at all even once I made it back to the lake. I also have Reynaud’s, which leaves me dangerously susceptible to frostbite in my hands & feet. Normally, the blood vessels in a person’s extremities will expand in bitter cold (increasing blood flow & therefore warmth), but with someone who has Reynaud’s, the blood vessels actually constrict in the cold. For example, my hands will turn blue even in an air-conditioned room, and I’d walk the dog in winter and if I didn’t take the time to put on several layers of socks, I’d come in & a few of my toes would be bone-white from lack of circulation.
But I decided to press on (life is an adventure, remember?!). As the light increased, it was actually very beautiful out, with the wintry landscape & especially the snow-draped pine trees, and ice crystals swirling through the air in the great gusts of wind.
Just before reaching the lake, there was about a hundred-yard stretch of the ‘trail’ where three-feet of snow covered the entire road. It didn’t look any better down in the trees, so I just started to slog through it, knowing I was almost to the lake. Then I came around a curve in the road and saw a five-foot drift across the road. Yikes. So then I did go down into the trees to get around the drift. After that, though, I was at the lake and the road had been blown clear by the winds.
The ferocious wind & blowing snow were pitiless once I left the shelter of the trees that line the road, so I quickly headed over to the bathrooms off the parking lot. I didn’t have to go, but by that time I just wanted to get out of the wind for a few minutes. Unfortunately, there were four-foot snowdrifts piled up against the bathroom doors, so I had to settle for huddling behind the leeward side of the small shelter. After about ten minutes of shivering there, the sun was actually coming up over the horizon and I could see that even in the midst of all that blowing snow a bit of alpenglow was going to paint the landscape with that lovely, otherworldly illumination which you have to see to believe. So I decided to head out into the open ground on the east shore of the lake and see what I could see. Well, once I got out there, the wind was battering me so hard I could barely stand upright, the blowing snow made it almost impossible to face west for more than a few seconds at a time, and the Indian Peaks were covered in clouds. Huh.
I managed to snap off two quick shots and that was that. Time to skedaddle.
Once I started back down the ‘trail’ and into the shelter of the trees that line the road, things were much better (relatively speaking). Plus, I had quite the nice tail wind pushing me along now! I retraced my steps all the way back to the car, and was none the worse for wear once I got the heater cranked up.
You know, standing (leaning into the wind) there on the frozen shore of Brainard Lake, in a hurricane of driven snow, shivering in the bitter cold, I thought, “Rich, you are such an idiot! You could still be in your warm bed right now! And you still have to go to work later! Think of how tired you’re going to be tonight!” But then I realized there was no place I’d rather be in that moment, and nothing else I’d rather be doing. Life is an adventure, and yesterday morning I had a little adventure hiking back to Brainard Lake. I wouldn’t have traded that experience for anything. (Okay, I have to admit, I was pretty tired last night at work, but life is for the living, and I’ll get enough sleep when I’m dead.)
Thanks for reading about stuff I’ve photographed. ~Rich
1 comment:
Great Photo! Keep 'em coming!
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