Rocky Mountain National Park (Part1): Hallett Peak, Andrews Glacier, Sky Pond

8/08/09
Campsites at Rocky Mountain National Park are a tough ticket, so when I arrived too late on Wednesday to get one I had to retreat to Hermit Park Campground, a spacious county park a couple of miles outside Estes Park. A handful of elk browsing near a picnic area parking lot seemed impervious to my presence. Well maybe a stink eye.

Back in the National Park early the next morning I signed onto the waiting list at Glacier Basin Campground (8500’) and got a site quickly enough. They had an orderly system, with an efficient and hospitable ranger running the show. I sped my entry by agreeing to a site with no shade, not even shrubbery. Beetle infestation had forced the National Park to cut down lots of trees, and this site sat in a little clearcut. Ongoing cutting kept half the campground closed, exacerbating the overall shortage of sites. I asked another ranger about the restoration plans, and he told me the park would be reseeding lodgepole pine. I asked why not do some native plants in the interim and he said these would just give way to lodgepole pine so they may as well cut to the chase. 

As with most National Park campgrounds this one was cramped, but by accepting a shadeless site I had more personal space than nearly anyone else, a tradeoff I’d take any time.  A little forest stood up the hill not far behind me, so if I needed to sit in the shade I could just move up there. This was not yet an issue as the sky was overwhelmingly and dramatically cloudy. The forecast called for a better day, so I watched the skies for a while and waited a bit to see what would happen.

Eventually I walked down to the shuttle bus stop, rode out to the Bear Lake Trailhead, and set off to stroll among the throngs. Alberta Falls was an easy and very popular destination though sort of nothing as falls go. Bierstadt Lake was a more ambitious walk and sort of nothing as well. Perhaps without the overcast I’d have seen a magisterial rise of Bierstadt-style peaks beyond the lake. Most of the surrounding forest was thin monocultural lodgepole pine. The throngs seemed to be having a great time. It was now midday and the foot traffic was shocking. My bearded scruffiness had begun to attract attention again and soon I was running for mayor. After my hike I  found a quiet picnic area and spent the rest of the day sitting under the best Jeffrey Pine I'd ever sat under, in a dry meadow that was largely bug-free.

Not thunderstorm-free though, and soon I was sitting in my car, away from the great tree, wondering exactly what I should do. Dark skies, distant thunder, some wind and light rain, the usual drill. A parade of cars abandoned the park, but the storm soon passed and I was back out, reading at a different picnic table, this one with a view. Picnic areas are one of my favorite things about national parks, though shuttle buses are also good.

The wind began kicking up again, raising the aroma of sage. I hadn’t smelled sage in a while. Longs Peak was in general view, and if I picked up and move my chair about two feet and it would be in clear view. Longs Peak was the first Rocky Mountain peak I’d seen really dominate the scene. Not like a Cascade stratovolcano or anything, but a worthy focal point. It is the only fourteener in the park, the only one north of I-70 in fact. It really does have a little of that Bierstadt-rising-above-the-lower-peaks look to it, though certainly not as dramatically as he depicts it. At least you can see how he got the idea. (OK, he got the idea in the Alps.)

Longs Peak

The sky began to blue back up. A shuttle bus drove by, completely empty. Earlier in the day I had seen a couple of them jammed like New York subways. I was happy except that I now needed to piss, and a van full of people was sitting there looking straight at me. Even without them it would have been dicey, but I'm brave. They were just sitting there, a crowd of them, inside a closed van. Probably the AC was on, though I didn’t hear any idling. What the hell were they doing? “Let's go to the National Park and sit in a closed van?” Maybe they were listening to BBC news trying to get a grip on the situation in Pakistan. Maybe the car was idling and they'd stuffed up the exhaust to commit collective suicide. I think you need to be in a garage to do that. I think I was being influenced by the 16-year old narrator of the book I was reading, How the Light Gets In. The sky was almost entirely blue now. They think they're going to outlast me, but they don't know who they're dealing with. I think the driver is on the phone - "yeah, we're in RMNP, sitting here in the van!" Maybe he's trying to find a place for them to stay. Ha! The engine starts. They drive away. I win. Except they've driven deeper down the road into the picnic area and so are not gone yet. Parking - damn, right next to the bathroom, 700 yards away. Far enough I decided, and I pissed in peace.

Hallett Peak
I headed out Friday morning toward Hallett Peak in what turned out to be an uncanny replay of my hike to Audubon Peak a few days earlier. From the Bear Lake trailhead (9475’), the trail ascends through forest, with brief glimpses of attractive scenery. Each switchback seemed to promise delivery only to cut back into the skimpy trees. More significant was the replay of the driving headwind, worse than at Audubon I do believe. Hikers were strewn about along the trail taking cover in whatever nook or cranny that provided protection. I found some decent wind block in the sun, but could see Hallett Peak was up a long and terribly exposed slope and I felt sure I would abandon my goal. I spoke with one couple who had just returned after a brief foray and the woman said she was barely able to remain on her feet. I proceeded on from windblock to wind block, and found real shelter in the headwall of Tyndall Glacier, so tiny I wouldn't have thought it was a glacier at all. Finally I went up Hallett Peak and oddly enough the wind was now at my back and I got to the top before I even knew it.

Tyndall Glacier

Hallett Peak

Andrews Glacier/Sky Pond
I got up at 5:00 AM the next morning and drove straight to the Glacier Gorge Trailhead for breakfast, as the parking lot was said to fill very early. I was off for Andrews Glacier on what turned out to be a beautiful Saturday morning. I quickly passed Alberta Falls then dropped to Icy Brook and the Loch, a 450-foot long lake sitting at 10,192’. The riparian greenery was sweet, and it occurred to me that running water is one of the things you tend to miss hiking to the tops of mountains and tend to get in large doses heading into the gaps. (Plus the wind isn't nearly as bad.)

Icy Brook

Ice Brook

 About 3.5 miles in the trail splits into two forks. One headed off a mile or so to Andrews Glacier, the other a mile and a half to Sky Pond. I could see no reason I couldn't do both. The trail up Andrews Creek was mostly a rocky scramble, with pinnacles rising high above. The aesthetics were not as delightful as the trail to Isabella Glacier but the temperature in the sun was perfect, with a cool breeze coming from the pass. The terrain was so periglacial that for a while I thought I was looking at a glacier so thinned out to be unrecognizable, but as with Isabella there was a lot more to it than I envisioned. It was actually a stunning scene. The glacier comes swooping steeply down some 300 feet from the Continental Divide and drops into a fine meltwater lake. It is one of Rocky Mountain National Park's largest, most active and accessible glaciers, and I’m surprised it hasn't attained more photographic fame.

Anderson Glacier

Anderson Tarn

It was a top-notch scene, but freezing now in the cold wind. I took cover behind some enormous lichen-rich boulders and popped up like some Civil War sniper to take pictures. A party of four climbers had hustled by me on the trail in and they were at the base of the glacier preparing to climb to the top. I watched them on and off as they ascended.

Anderson Glacier with Climbers

Anderson Glacier with Smaller Climbers

Sky Pond
I had another prong to hike, so I retreated down to the trail fork and headed up Ice Brook toward Sky Pond. The trail soon came to Timberline Falls, a nice waterfall lying so close to the trail that hiking called for a tricky little scramble up a rock fall filled with running water. A fun and surprising challenge for a National Park designated day hike. Glass Lake followed almost directly above the fall and then a short easy scramble to Sky Pond at 10,900 feet. Taylor Peak, part of the Continental Divide rose above at 13,153 ft. Taylor Glacier was said to be up there somewhere, but it certainly lacked the elegance of Anderson Glacier.

Timberline Falls

This was the more popular of the two prongs. While I had seen only the climbers on the leg to Anderson Glacier, a small crowd formed around Sky Pond passing binoculars around to spot climbers high above on the sheer, very impressive cliffs. I had a friendly chat with a stunningly beautiful woman who was impressed by my hiking itinerary. She convinced me that I should hike up into the Mummy Range along the northern portion of the park. She was very cool, but was accompanied by two guys and a young boy who I figured for her husband, her father, and her son. Eesh. I would have to push on alone.

Climbers (somewhere) above Sky Pond

Climbers Up There Somewhere