Cow Creek - Rocky Mountain National Park

It was a long schlep from Spokane to Denver (roughly 1,100 miles).  The long drive meant that the trucks wouldn't make the trip in one day and that Spamalot would not open at the Denver Center until Wednesday.  I headed for the mountains on my unusual Tuesday off.  

I was up early on Tuesday morning, got myself a big breakfast of huevos rancheros, and was in the car headed northwest shortly after 8AM.  I was headed for the Rocky Mountain National Park near Estes Park, CO.  Traffic frustrated me a bit, slowing my progress to the mountains, but as I was arriving the at trailhead a herd of elk stopped me in my tracks.  Just off the dirt road, a whole bunch of elk were grazing in a meadow, completely unconcerned about my presence.  

Elk Herd #1 for the day.

These are HUGE animals - it's hard to really tell how big they are in a picture - the size of horses with the body shape of deer.

Around 10:30, I set off on the Cow Creek Trail.  The trail began at the former McGraw Dude Ranch, now a National Park Service ranger and research station, and closely followed the course of Cow Creek.  Near the trailhead, Cow Creek is pretty lazy - a series of beaver dams slow the creek and create splashing spillways.  As I progressed up the trail, however, the creek grew more wild.  Fueled by the melting mountain snow, Cow Creek is crystal clear and freezing cold.  The creek traces a path through a valley climbing slowly as I moved upstream.  The trailhead is at 7,800 feet in a wide meadow lined with aspens and pines.

Sheep Rock was a constant companion on the first part of the hike - above the meadow to the right of the trail.

Cow Creek

The creek was never very wide, but moved at a good pace as it tumbled down the valley.

The trail was a gentle climb over the first two miles.  Pretty quickly, I noticed that I was getting short of breath.  I've been doing enough hiking lately to wonder what was different here.  It didn't take long for me to remember that I started the hike nearly a mile and half above sea level.  As a life-long "flat-lander" the thin air was kicking my butt!

The last 1/2 mile, or so, of the trail grew steeper as the wide valley became more of a gorge. Cow Creek got wilder and louder as it tumbled past boulders and made some short falls.  The sound of falling water grew louder and the rock walls on either side of the trail got steeper as I neared Bridal Veil Falls.  I was paying careful attention to my footing, so the falls appearance was a surprise:

Bridal Veil Falls

When I arrived at the falls, there was a group of other hikers there and another pair that I had overtaken on the trail arrived behind me.  We all said hello and set about staying out of each other's pictures.  But, not long after I arrived, it suddenly clouded over and began to rain.  The other hikers fled back down the trail while I tucked myself under a rock outcropping and had a snack.  About ten minutes after the rain started, the dark cloud passed, the sun shine returned and I had the falls to myself!

Cow Creek tumbles more than 20 feet over a small cliff to form Bridal Veil Falls.  In the summer it's possible to cross the creek and climb to the top of the falls, but the spring melt made the creek too wide to do so easily on the day I visited.  While I scrambled around, taking pictures and looking for a route to the top, I let my pack rest under the outcropping where I weathered the brief rain.  A fat chipmunk was exploring my belongings while I explored the falls!

I returned to see this little bugger hopping out of my backpack!  He was clearly used to life at a tourist destination and was ready to help himself to some people-food.

When I heard some more people climbing up to the falls, I took one last look:

and was on my way.  Unsurprisingly, the trip back down the trail was much easier than the trip up.  I gained more than 1,000 feet of elevation on my hike and was happy to give it back.  The trip down was no faster, however, as going downhill on rocky trails can be just as slow as going up.

As the valley opened up again, I spotted some movement at the edge of the meadow:

3 mule deer were foraging near the trees!  These deer are a good bit bigger than the white-tailed deer I grew up with in Michigan.  Males stand four feet tall at the shoulder and can weigh in at above 300 pounds.  The deer were very alert to my presence and kept their distance.

Shortly after my encounter with the deer, I reached a confluence of trails.

It was just after 1PM, my legs felt good, and it was a beautiful day (even at this altitude, the temperatures were in the 70's with a warm breeze), so I decided to take a side trip to Balanced Rock.  The Balanced Rock Trail dropped down past the Rabbit Ears backcountry campsite and crossed Cow Creek.  The first part of the trail was lush and the deepest green I encountered all day.  Though there's plenty of green in this part of the Rocky Mountains, it's nothing like the colors I encountered in Eugene; vegetation is much more sparse here and everything feels more delicate.  Much of the trail was gravel crushed by boots and hooves from the Rocky Mountain's own rocks.  The topsoil is thin and delicate.  This is not to say there wasn't plenty of plant life, just that it was a beautiful contrast to what I was experiencing in the preceding days and weeks.  (That's been one of my favorite aspects of life on tour - things change so quickly and frequently.)

These delicate little lavender flowers are American Pasque Flowers - one of the first flowers of spring in the Rocky Mountain alpine region.  Their stems are fuzzy to help keep the frost off as they're the earliest bloomers in places with variable weather.

As I left Cow Creek behind, I began a long climb to the top of an unnamed peak in the Lumpy Ridge.  As I climbed, the plant life thinned and changed.  More and more fallen trees lined the path.  At first, this seemed like a terrible tragedy for the hillside, but then it occurred to me: this is how the mountain gains topsoil - trees grow, are blown over, decompose, turn into dirt and slowly thicken the topsoil.  On the topic of natural processes; the trail was full of animal droppings of all shapes and sizes and twice I came across bones (I'll spare you the photos).  There was no question I was in a wild place.

The climb was unrelenting.  Though I only gained around a 1,000 feet on the trail, it was a much tougher ascent than the Cow Creek trail.  About halfway up, I stopped for lunch.

All along the route were these random outcroppings of rock.  This one was 12', or so, tall and featured a few pine trees growing in the gaps and fissures.  All of these outcroppings looked as if a giant child had stacked up the boulders in artsy compositions, many looked like they could collapse at any time.  I ate lunch in the shadow of the biggest boulder on the smaller rock in the lower-left of the picture.  Unlike the Cow Creek Trail, I saw no one on the Balanced Rock Trail - my lunch companion was a loudly chattering squirrel.

I pushed onward and upward to the top of my personal mountain.  I came to the crest and then crossed over it, opening up the vista to the snowcapped, higher peaks that form the continental divide.  

I gave up some of the altitude I had gained and circled around to the far side of the mountain.  Just as I was beginning to wonder if Balanced Rock had lost its balance and fallen, it came into view.  I literally, stopped in my tracks and gasped at its improbability.

The balancing rock is quite large and the rock it's balanced on is no bigger than me.  How this came to be, I haven't the slightest idea. As soon as I saw it, the 2 and a half mile climb was worth it.

I smiled the whole way back down the mountain.  As the research station came back into view, I did some quick math and calculated that I had hiked just over 11.5 miles.  My feet were heavy, but I was, otherwise, feeling quite good.  I rounded the rangers cabin and stopped in my tracks yet again.  A herd of 18 elk (the same herd that was nearby in the morning?) was grazing on the other side of Cow Creek.

I dropped my backpack off in the car and slowly approached the herd, sat down on a rock and watched them for 15 minutes.  As I moved closer, they kept a careful eye on me, but relaxed as I settled in to watch them.  There were 18 of them working their way across the hillside.  I was close enough to hear them munching on their grass!  Eventually, I had to get in the car and head back into town...

En route back to Denver, I saw 3 more herds of elk!  One great big herd before I reached Estes Park, another wandering the golf course in Estes Park and a third on a hillside as I wound through the mountains between Estes Park and Boulder.  Each time, I marveled at them.

Some younger members of Herd #3 - they were cavorting in an open field and would, occasionally, stand up on their hind legs and kick at each other with their front limbs.

As I turned off the little dirt road that lead to the trailhead, there was one, last, spectacular view that capped off the whole day:

JV