Sunday, October 2, 2016

A Hike Down Memory Lane


Accustomed. I'm always looking for somewhere new to go, or a new trail to hike in a familiar park, but there's something to be said for hiking the same trail multiple times. You get a sense of comfort and familiarity, and tend to notice small details you may have overlooked on your last pass. Couple that with sharing a familiar trail with someone who hasn't experienced it before and the hike can open your eyes to the trail in a whole new way. I have been visiting Rocky Mountain National Park for as long as I can remember, thanks to parents who insisted on instilling the value of our National Parks in us as kids. With the frequent visits as children and teens, my parents were constantly looking for hikes and drives that would keep us happy and occupied, but that was within our abilites as we tested our limits and comfort zones while growing up. (I think they may have gotten a little more than they bargined for with me, but that's for another post.) The hike to Emerald Lake from the Bear Lake parking lot in Rocky Mountain fit the bill to a T. It's a pretty easy three mile round-trip hike that gains little elevation as you wander through the forest past a chain of three lakes and the connecting stream, remnants of an ancient glacier, up to a steep cirque nearly devoid of trees but with a view of two mountain peaks that exceed 12,000 feet.


This is the trail that Torrey and I hiked the day after our thirteen miler, and it was perfect. We didn't set an alarm but still broke camp early, eager to get back on the trail for more time among the mountains. We were able to set and keep a pace that surprised me; we were flying past the other hikers on the trail (mostly families with children, reminding me of my own youth) that in no way suggested we had hiked thirteen miles plus wicked elevation gain the day before. I'm not sure even now what possessed us to go as quickly as we did, but there ya go. I guess we were on a mission to nowhere. We reached the first lake, Nymph Lake, before we knew it and spent a little time on the shore before heading up the trail. A short few minutes later we came to a pile of boulders that I distinctly remember climbing nearly every other time I'd hiked that trail, and for nostalgia's sake decided to climb again, dragging Torrey up with me.


From there we hit Dream Lake, and Torrey got to listen to my tales about the last time I had hiked here in the dead of winter, where a friend and I snowshoed across the frozen surface of the crystal clear water we were now looking at. That is one of the good/bad things about going to a well-known place with someone who's never been: they have to listen to you reminisce about the last time (or two, or three, or...) that you were there. I'd like to think I tell good stories at least! The trail runs the length of the lake for quite a while, and we were treated to unobstructed views of the surrounding mountains and little brown trout that darted ahead of us through the shallows as we meandered along toward the final lake and our destination.


Emerald Lake kind of sneaks up on you. One minute you're walking through a mountain forest, and the next you crest a mound of rocks and the lake opens up before you in an exposed cirque that rises straight up from the cold waters to the towering peaks above. Torrey and I climbed onto a boulder, above the crowd of other hikers, and paused to take in the view and some calories. Torrey again got to listen to me talk, this time about the trail above the lake that leads to Flattop Mountain and the spot where you can look over the edge, straight down into the water of the lake far below. We sat there for a long time, watching the lake and the people, and occasionally visited by a very friendly chipmunk doing its rounds as it looked for food (it didn't get any from us, I don't feed the wildlife.) It was quite adorable, though a little bold as it climbed onto anyone who sat still long enough. Our visit to the lake was punctuated by the squeals of unsuspecting hikers who suddenly found a fuzzy little animal on their laps or in their bags of chips. Eventually, Torrey and I felt sufficiently fed and rested and we turned to leave, with me already wondering when I'd be visiting again.


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