Non Photo-Blue

Thursday.
We woke early that morning. We ate, tried to shake off the morning mountain chill, and got ready for a hike. Our mission was to reach Loomis Lake, another 1,000 ft up and west, into the curl of the mountain area we were in. The trick was, there was no trail after the camp, so we were on our own to cross the rocks and forest. We started off very gung ho, climbed some steep rocks, then found a wonderfully comfortable place where the sun shone down on us, clear of the trees. We lay there, ended up passing out for an hour or so, before we got up to move on. We climbed, and it didn't seem like a lot, but it must have been. There were a lot of rough patches, includes some spot were we actually had to walk on the thick cover of the bushes. But we had a lot of energy starting out, and it wasn't long after noon before we reached the first small body of water, which, since it was unnamed, we decided to proclaims NY Lake. From there we could see the curl of the mountains, reaching up into the lower tundra where no trees live, and there was a wonderful patch of ice set into the mountain alcove. We knew the lake was under that ice, though we couldn't see it through the trees.

Then we climbed up, over a series of rocks, and that way we got into the lower tundra, clear of the trees. We hoped that up there there would be an easy passage around the thick forest below, and we could pass into that mountain curve, and get as close to the ice as possible. But that didn't happen, because we came to a passing where it was all small rocks that slid under your feet. The trick was, Mo said, after he made it across, to keep going across even though the ground is coming out from under you. "Just keep moving your feet, like swimming." Right. Like swimming. Only through rocks. Well, I understood the concept; I get the physics of it, but there something about standing on solid ground that I actually like. I tried to cross, but I kept trying to get a solid foothold, which was impossible, and the more the rocks slipped, the more I tried steadying myself, and of course, the more the rocks slipped. Down the slope, maybe 500 ft. It didn't look like a fun drop. So I lay flat on my belly, and clung face down to the rocks. Mo was having a laughing fit across the way. I found it funny myself, except I had to do a kind of belly flop-pushing myself up an inch then moving over, one inch at a time, to get myself back. "It's just like swimming," Mo kept saying through his chuckles.

Well, that didn't work. I got back to where we started and just at that moment lighting and thunder sounded around us. The rain came down, and all I remember is the warnings in the visitor center: "Many people die from lighting at Rocky Mountain NP. In the event of a lightning storm, please stay under the treeline." Of course, we were sitting directly above the blessed treeline. And with the rain coming down, there was no hope to go back down the rocks, way too slippery. But fortunatel,y there was a tiny alcove along the side of the cliff where we were, and we sat under it. We ate small sandwiches we brought, watched the lighting (keeping our fingers crossed) and watched the rain turn to hail then back to rain again. The weather is so violent is Rocky Mountain- being up around 11,500 ft, the clouds move as fast as cars over your head. It goes from clear skies to thunderstorms and back to sunny again in a matter of an hour. We waited the short rain out, went back down over the rocks we came up, and cut through the thick trees to find Loomis Lake. And we did, and it felt wonderful. The water was insanely cold, and numbed my toes to the touch. There was no hope of swimming.

To be continued...