Terry’s Photo Blog

Just some sunset photos over Lake Travis from The Oasis in Austin, TX. I was there on a company-sponsored trip last Friday, October 3. 

 

 

 

  

  

 

 

  

 

 

  

 

 

  

 

 

  

 

 

  

 

 

  

 

 

  

 

 

 

 

  

September 28, 2008
Many areas of the Sangre de Cristo mountains are among my favorite in the state. I have never hiked the western side of these gorgeous mountains. In fact, I have only seen them from afar.

My book, 100 Classic Hikes in Colorado, has yet again become an invaluable resource in helping me find places to hike this fall. Every time I’ve gone hiking in the Sangres, I’ve always noticed the incredible amount of aspen trees there are. I desperately wanted to find a place to hike there this fall. I’ve missed the colors the past couple of seasons, but I wasn’t going to this year.

After hiking ten miles on Friday, I wasn’t sure how I was going to take another twelve miles. Luckily, these hikes aren’t as difficult as hiking 14ers. My day began at 2:15 AM. As usual, I ate a breakfast, got packed up, and headed out. My initial destination was the small town of Crestone, CO. Nestled on the western slopes of the Sangre de Cristo Range, it’s about a three-and-a-half hour drive from my home in Colorado Springs. I left right around 3:00 and headed south toward Canon City, CO. From there, I headed west through Salida to Poncha Springs, then south about thirty miles,then east through the town of Crestone. The North Crestone Creek Trailhead is about two miles north of Crestone.

I arrived at the trailhead right around 6:30. It was still pretty dark, so I waited around for about ten minutes. There were a few vehicles parked there, but being a Sunday, the trail probably wasn’t going to be that crowded this early in the morning. When I started hiking, I noticed that it wasn’t really that cold. I didn’t even have to put on my cap. When I reached an area where the canopy opened up, I got my first view of the aspens covering the mountainsides. I took quite a few photos, but they paled in comparison to the ones that I took in the sunlight on my way back down.

Much of the this area of the Sangre de Cristo Range is made up of Crestone Conglomerate.

These rocks-of-rocks, so familiar in local yards, parks, hiking trails and all around town, come from the Crestone Conglomerate, a member within the Sangre de Cristos formation. “It’s about 5 to 6 miles long and 3 to 4,000 feet thick and was deposited at the same time as its host formation—the Sangre de Cristos—but it’s much coarser grain,” explains Dr. Jim McCalpin, head of Geo-Haz Consulting and the Crestone Science Center. “Crestone Peak, Kit Carson, Challenger—all the highest peaks are made of this rock. And one of the reasons they are the highest peaks is because this is the hardest rock. It’s more resistant to erosion.” The Crestone Conglomerate is widest underneath all the 14ers, thinning out to the north and south. It outcrops near Kit Carson and Crestone Peak. 

Crestone Conglomerate rocks are a mix of quartzite, pink granite, sandstone, schists, and gneisses cemented together in a matrix of fine-grained silica. What’s the process? “Look at the San Luis Valley: it’s a big basin with thousands of feet of sand and gravel,” McCalpin explains. “The pressure of the sand at the bottom is intense, and the groundwater is slowly flowing through the bottom gravels. The groundwater has dissolved chemicals in it, which are present in solution, and they precipitate in the pore spaces of the gravel, and cement it like concrete. It takes a long time, but it will eventually cement any rock that’s at the bottom of a pile.”

A combination of its component rocks and its matrix of silica—which has a hardness of 7 on scale of 10—gives the Crestone Conglomerate above-average hardness. “You see huge boulders that have been sitting on the glacial outwash fan for 15,000 years and don’t look like they weathered hardly at all,” says McCalpin. “They’re sitting out there thumbing their nose at erosion.”

After about two miles, I reached a fork in the trail after a makeshift bridge crossing over a creek. The trail to my left actually headed up to the Venable-Comanche Loop at the Phantom Terrace, a hike that I did back in July. My trail was off to the right, however, and after taking a breather for a few minutes, I continued on. Less than ten minutes later, I crossed paths with about a dozen campers heading back down. The trail was quite wet and I inquired whether it rained the previous night. One to them told me that it had actually snowed. None of the snow accumulated, but it was interesting to note. 

I continued on past the campers. Not too far afterward, the trail entered a series of switchbacks. Sunlight was reaching the tops of the mountains above me and illuminating the trees above me. I reached a few open areas and was able to take a look back down at the areas that I had just hiked through. The air was crisp, still. Birds were just starting to come out for the morning, but there were no other sounds, not even the wind. I could tell that this was going to be an excellent day. The weather forecast was calling for clouds to move into the area around 11:00, so I figured that would give me enough time to make it up to the lake and be on my way back. There was only a 30% chance of precipitation, but that could change dramatically in the mountains. Fortunately, the weather starts to calm down in September, so large, potentially dangerous thunderstorms become more and more infrequent.

 

 

 

 

  

  

 

 

  

I was able to get some tremendous photos of the foliage in the morning light. I hiked past North Crestone Creek and emerged into an open field. According to my trail guide, the trail would eventually become more difficult as I began a 600+ foot ascent up the headwall below North Crestone Lake. The rising sun and the view behind me presented some great photo ops.

 

 

  

 

 

  

 

  

 

 

 

  

  

It took me about half an hour to hike up the headwall. The sky was starting to cloud over a bit, so I wanted to get up as quickly as possible. There was also a light breeze blowing. I didn’t think I was going to be able to get any photos with still water on the lake, but the only way to be sure was to get there!

At about 10:15, I made it to the lake. Well, I didn’t actually walk down to the lake shore — I just sort of hung out above it because there wasn’t a clear trail down to it. North Crestone Lake is one of the Sangre de Cristo’s largest lakes and it was a jewel. I would have loved if I had been able to take some photos with still waters with Fluted Peak (13,554 ft) and Mt. Adams (13,931 ft) reflected off of them. Another reason I didn’t hiked down to the shore was because I wanted to get back down into the foliage to take photos in as much sunlight unobscured by clouds as I could. I took a couple of panoramas, ate a snack, and headed back down.

 

 

North Crestone Lake with Mt. Adams in the background.  

 

 

  

The trip back down was quick and uneventful. The lower I got, the warmer it became. While there were some big, puffy cumulus clouds passing over, the later the day became, the thinner the clouds were. Eventually, there were just some high cirrus clouds hanging about, which allowed a decent amount of sunlight to pass through. I stopped several times on the way down to take photos.

 

 

  

 

 

  

I made it back to the makeshift bridge and decided to take off my jacket. It was plenty warm enough outside. I was excited to get further down the trail to the open areas because that’s where I spotted some great color in the mountainside earlier that morning. It was already about 12:30 and I was pleased that the weather was holding out. I crossed the bridge and hoofed it down at a quickened pace.

 

 

The makeshift bridge  

 

 

  

 

 

  

 

 

  

I made it back to the trailhead at 1:35. Earlier in the day, I saw a Missing Person sign posted near the trailhead. My heart went out to whoever posted it. I could imagine myself ending up like that since I hike alone most of the time. I haven’t had the occasion to go backpacking for multiple days, but I’d like to think that I could find someone to accompany me instead of going at it alone. I truly, truly hope that his friends and family are able to find closure.

 

 

  

As of this hike, the total number of miles that I’ve hiked in 2008 are 292.1. Three hundred miles will be my next accomplishment!

 

  

Collectively, Maroon Peak and North Maroon Peak are known as the Maroon Bells. Not only are they two of Colorado’s 14,000-foot peaks, but they are two of the most photographed mountains in the world. Maroon Creek Road is just a short drive from Aspen and the road leads tourists right up to Maroon Lake. There have been so many great photos taken at Maroon Lake and people flock to it in droves — especially in the Autumn.

My quest for Autumn foliage took me to the Maroon Bells Wilderness. There is another, lesser-known lake near the base of the mountains. It’s not a long hike — only about two miles. I’ve always wanted to hike up to the lake and this season seemed like the perfect time to do it. The lake wasn’t my only destination, though; my hike was supposed to take me up to West Maroon Pass, a hike of about six-and-a-half miles. Like Silver Basin and Upper Cataract Lake, this is another hike I obtained from my book 100 Classic Hikes in Colorado. It has been an invaluable resource for ideas.

My day began last Friday at 2:15 AM. I woke up, got ready, and left at 3:00. Aspen is about three hours away from my home in Colorado Springs. As usual, the roads were pretty devoid of cars. I made it over Independence Pass before sunrise and through Aspen before the morning rush hour. I’ve been to Maroon Lake several times over the years, so I knew exactly where to go. When I reached the Maroon Lake parking area at 6:30, the parking lot was already full. There were about 50-70 cars already there. I had to drive around the parking area until I found a space off the road to park. I strapped on my pack and walked the short distance to Maroon Lake. There were about a hundred people there lining its shore — waiting for sunrise to occur. The trailhead leading up to Crater Lake was on the opposite shore and it didn’t seem like a lot of people were headed that way. I started on the trail at 6:45.

As I walked up the trail, the first rays of sunlight began to shine on the Bells. I looked up to the left; there, towering above me was 14,018-foot Pyramid Peak. While not the tallest 14er, the easiest route to the summit is a Class 4 climb requiring ropes. It will probably be one of the last 14ers that I summit as I will need to take some climbing and ropes courses before I do so.

 

 

Sunrise on Pyramid Peak (left of center> and the Maroon Bells (right side)  

I was only about 1/4 mile from the lake when I met another hiker on the trail. I stopped and talked to him for about ten minutes. He was from Lakewood, CO and Maroon Lake was the first stop on a three-week excursion. We walked to Crater Lake together. He said that in addition to Crater Lake, he was planning to hike up Buckskin Pass. The other side of Buckskin Pass leads over to Snowmass Lake and Snowmass Mountain. When we arrived at Crater Lake, he let me know that he was going to be hanging around at the lake until about 2:00 and wanted me to find him so we could exchange websites. I told him that I would try to find him. He was very talkative and mentioned that he specialized in macro photography. He was still using a standard format camera and had a lot of questions about my digital camera. I shared as much as I could about it, but he seemed unconvinced as to the merits of digital photography.

 

 

  

While Crater Lake’s water level was very low, it was still incredibly scenic. There was only one other person up there at the time. From what I’ve read, it’s usually crawling with people. I walked across some fallen timber to the lake shore opposite the Bells and took some more photos.

 

 

  

 

 

  

I spent about twenty minutes at the lake watching the sun rise before continuing on to the West Maroon Trail. Another four miles up, it would take me to West Maroon Pass. The trail wasn’t that difficult, which was fine for me. My hiking season was winding down, so challenge wasn’t much of a concern to me. I just wanted some scenery, which I was rewarded with.

As I hiked along, I turned around to take a look at the sun continuing to rise behind me. Sunlight was flooding through the valley, revealing stunning gold groves of aspen.

 

 

  

I was excited about getting up to the pass. I read through my trail guide carefully and I was pretty sure I knew where to go as long as the trail was easily identifiable. I felt good and healthy; the pneumonia that I suffered from a couple weeks prior seemed to be out of my system.

I followed the trail along West Maroon Creek until it crossed the creek itself. The map on my trail guide showed the trail crossing over to the east side of the creek, then crossing back over to the west side. I found a makeshift stone bridge across the creek, but lost the trail. I stood around for about ten minutes and tried to relocate it. I finally spotted a faint trail on the other side of the creek, so I figured that was where it reconnected. I started up a steep path to the top of a hill and the trail disappeared again. I had a general sense of the direction I needed to go, so I decided to continue ascending the hill, eventually taking a turn to the left to head further west. I began to trailblaze through a lot of vegetation. There were vague hints of game trail in the tall ground vegetation that I attempted to follow, but there were also groves of willows and low-lying evergreens that I had to push my way through. I eventually could not get through and had to turn around.

My detour took me about a three-quarters of a mile off of the main trail, but I made it back with no issues. When I got back down to the creek, I took about ten minutes to rest and rehydrate. I filtered some water out of the creek and munched on some snacks. There was a snow cave over the creek in a gully — remnants of late-season avalanches. I was tempted to walk under it, but remembered the story of a couple of kids who had a snow cave collapse on them on Snoqualmie Pass in Washington and thought better of it. As I headed back to Crater Lake, I crossed paths with two hikers. I asked them where they were heading. When they said, “West Maroon Pass,” I told them that the trail was difficult to find and that I spent about ninety minutes trailblazing and trying to locate it. I bade them luck and farewell, then continued back. A short while after, rain moved into the area. I met up with another couple of hikers and let them know of my difficulty finding the trail, then moved on.

I made it back to the Crater Lake area after walking in the rain for about twenty minutes. I looked back up into the valley that I just walked down and watched the rain move through it.

 

 

  

The storm was moving through quickly and hints of blue sky were peeking through. When I walked a little further down the trail, I met-up with the guy who I was talking with earlier that morning. He said that he had already taken five rolls of film. He was going further back down the trail to take some more photos and asked me to look for him again.

I stayed around that same area and patiently waited for the clouds to clear out a little bit. Once they did, I snapped some great photos.

 

 

  

 

 

  

 

 

  

 

 

  

 

 

  

 

 

  

After spending nearly forty-five minutes taking photos, I decided it was time for me to head back down to the trailhead. I actually didn’t know if I would be ticketed for where I parked since it wasn’t a marked parking space. I became concerned that the Forest Service might actually tow my truck. It wasn’t blocking traffic or anything, but I wasn’t sure if I was illegally parked or not. There were a few cars parked in the same area, but it was likely they were only going to be at Maroon Lake for an hour or less.

I hoofed it down the trail, passing quite a lot of casual hikers on their way up to Crater Lake. I stopped and took a couple photos along the way.

 

 

  

 

 

  

 

 

Looking back down at Maroon Lake from the trail.  

I reached my truck and packed up. Along the way, I stopped on the side of Maroon Creek Rd. and took some final photos on my way out. As I did, I heard a thunderclap reverberate against the mountains. It was a good thing I got out of the mountains when I did.

 

 

  

 

 

  

 

 

  

After taking those last photos, I headed back home around 1:00.

 

September 22, 2008

The Gore Range is located north of I-70 in Colorado and extends into the southern portion of Routt County. While not the highest mountains in the state, the peaks within the Gore Range are jagged and rocky. The mountains are named for Sir Saint George Gore, a rich nobleman who traveled west in 1855 on a notorious hunting safari. It was reported that he bagged 2,000 bison, 1,600 deer and elk, 100 black bears, and untold numbers of smaller game.

I have never hiked anywhere within these mountains. My 14er quest takes me to other mountain ranges since the Gores don’t have any 14,000-foot peaks. One thing I didn’t know about this range was the number of large lakes that it contains. Since my 14er hiking is over for 2008, I decided that this autumn would be a good time to explore these northern mountains on my quest for autumn foliage.

I woke at 2:15 on last Monday morning and was out the door by 3:00. My drive would take me on a familiar route — Hwy 24 through Woodland Park, Divide, Lake George, and towns in-between. At Hartsel, I turned north and headed through Fairplay, over Hoosier Pass, and through the towns of Breckenridge and Dillon. My hiking guide said that the trailhead for Upper Cataract Lake was near Green Mountain Reservoir, about twenty miles north of Silverthorne. After a three-and-a-half hour drive, I arrived at the trailhead at 6:30. It was still dark outside, so I decided to wait around for a few minutes. At 8:44 AM Mountain Time that morning was the Autumnal Equinox. As the sun rose on the eastern horizon, I wanted to capture the last sunrise of the summer of 2008, so I hung around near the trailhead to capture the moment. It was a melancholy moment for me. I am such a summer person, as my photos and posts reflect. While the sunrise was beautiful, a part of my soul wept at the passing of yet another summer.

 

The final sunrise of Summer 2008 looking east from within the Gore Range. I’ve accomplished so much this year. 

The Surprise Trail was about five-and-a quarter miles long. While it continues past Upper Cataract Lake, the aforementioned lake is the most popular destination. Along the way is Surprise Lake and Cat Lake lies just below Upper Cataract. It must’ve rained the previous night as the trail was wet and muddy in areas. While there was only a 30% chance of rain that day, the moisture in the air would most likely keep the skies cloudy for the better part of the day.

As I found out during my hike near Crested Butte two days earlier, I found the trees in this area in transition — still mostly green than not. I headed up the trail at a very good pace. When I crossed a creek, I thought about filtering out some drinking water, but decided that I could hold of doing so. Since my destination was a lake, there would likely be plenty of water to filter higher up. This would allow me to eliminate the extra water weight.

At about 2.3 miles, my path crossed the Gore Range Trail — a 54.5-mile trail traversing the heart of the Gore Range. I took a print-out from my coat pocket. Because I didn’t read through the entire guide beforehand, I completely missed my destination during my hike on Saturday — Silver Basin. Had I read the trail’s entire description, I would have been able to navigate my way through. I wasn’t going to make the same mistake this time. According to my hiking guide, I would only be on this portion of the trail for a short distance before I made it to my first destination — Surprise Lake. As I hiked along, I noticed some “no camping” signs attached to some trees to my left. Upon closer examination, I spotted some water through the trees. Surprise! Had it not been for the signs, I would have walked right past it. I weaved my way through some boggy areas and hopped across a couple of fallen tree trunks t the water to take a couple photos. The sun wasn’t too high in the sky yet.

 

Surprise Lake is one of the smallest lakes in the Gore Range. 

From Surprise Lake, I continued on the Gore Range Trail. About ten minutes later, I came across a small stream. I decided to filter out some drinking water there. I took off my backpack and leaned over the stream. My front jacket pocket flipped open and out came my cell phone. I panicked and immediately reached into the water to retrieve it. Luckily, it was only submerged for less than two seconds. Still, I didn’t know if there was going to be any lasting damage to it. I dried it off to the best of my ability and set it aside while I filtered the water. I packed-up again and continued on.

Not too far from the stream, I came to another fork. A sign pointed toward the Gore Range Trail to the right and the Upper Cataract Trail to the left. I took a left and headed uphill. There was nothing particularly difficult about this hike. I wasn’t looking for a challenge — especially after recovering from pneumonia — just for some scenery. The sky was clouding-over; taking photos was going to be a little more challenging as I tend to have difficulties balancing color when it’s overcast.

The trail eventually started to descend into switchbacks and I got my first look at Eagles Nest Peak and the highest point in the Gore Range — Mt. Powell (13,566 feet). I took a few minutes to rest and take in the scenery. Over to my right, I noticed a large body of water that I assumed was Upper Cataract Lake. I hiked a little further down the switchbacks. I was really disappointed that the sky wasn’t clearer. After hiking in Crested Butte and encountering less-than-ideal skies there as well, I wanted better conditions, but beggars can’t be choosers, I suppose. I stopped at another switchback and took some panoramas.

 

 

 

 

When I got the bottom of the switchbacks, I saw a sign pointing to Cat Lake and Mirror Lake to the right and Upper Cataract Trail to the left. My hiking guide mentioned Mirror Lake and it sounded like a really cool destination, but I neither wanted to test fate nor the weather. I decided to walk down to Cat Lake, first. I actually thought Cat was short for Cataract, so I went down to the shore and have a snack. I snapped a panorama before I took out my hiking guide to take another look at the map.

 

 

Sure enough, Cat Lake and Cataract Lake were two different bodies of water. Once I was done with my snack, I headed back up to the trail junction and continued on the Upper Cataract Trail. I only hiked for about five minutes before I found myself at Upper Cataract Lake. It was one of the larger mountain lakes that I’ve seen.

 

 

 

 

I stayed at the lake for about fifteen minutes before the wind really started picking up and it wasn’t exactly a warm wind. With freshly-fallen snow on the peaks beyond the lake, it wasn’t about to warm up anytime soon. I packed up and headed back to the trailhead.

I didn’t encounter anyone on the trail at all. It was a Monday, so I suppose it wasn’t that out-of-the-ordinary. I passed Surprise Lake and then the Surprise/Gore Range Trails junction. Only a short distance beyond the junction, I finally crossed paths with a couple hikers. They asked how far Surprise Lake was from there; it was only about half a mile away. The man asked me if I saw any hunters scoping out the area because elk season was about to start, but I hadn’t seen any. We bade farewell and I started back to the trailhead.

Along the way, I took a few more photos — more on the artistic side.

 

Finally, as I was about to reach the trailhead, I snapped a few more photos.

 

 

 

 

I made it back to my truck at about 1:00, packed-up, and headed home.

 

September 20, 2008

This year, I had three goals when it came to hiking: 1) I wanted to try combination 14er summits; 2) I wanted to surpass the number of 14ers that I bagged last year (seven); and 3) I wanted to hike during the autumn since I haven’t done that before. With my hikes over this past weekend, I have accomplished all three.

The past few years, my hiking ended right around Labor Day. My asthma usually starts giving me problems when the air starts to turn colder. In fact, on September 11, I went to urgent care and was told that I had pneumonia in the right lower lobe of my lungs. I was put on antibiotics for ten days; this meant that I didn’t get to go hiking the following weekend. I was really bummed. It was the first weekend since Memorial Day that I didn’t go hiking.

During the last couple of weeks in September and the first couple of weeks in October, Colorado’s high country goes through an amazing change. If you’re lucky, you may get to see fields of golden aspens as far as the eye can see. In other areas, there are blazing reds and brilliant oranges. My goal for this autumn was to get out there and see more than I’ve seen in the past. My autumn photos are usually places you can drive to, but not this year. The best photos come from the roads less-traveled, in my opinion. I hope that my hikes prove to be fruitful.

I wanted to Crested Butte to be one of my destinations this autumn. I didn’t know how much color there would be in the tree canopy, but I figured that I would chance a hike. I left at 2:45 AM on Saturday morning for the four-hour trip over to Crested Butte and arrived at the trailhead around 6:30. My original destination was Silver Basin, but due to some bad navigation on my part, I ended up hiking the entire length of the Dark Canyon Trail — a distance of about five-and-a-half miles. The trail wasn’t that difficult, which was my goal from the very beginning. Having just recovered from pneumonia, I didn’t want to overexert myself. I was a little concerned during the first hour of the hike what with the cold air and all. I started coughing, but the coughs became less and less frequent the longer I hiked. I was finally fighting off the pneumonia.

 

 

As the trail continued on and the sun rose higher in the sky, more of the colors became visible. Because I was on the west side of the mountains, it would take awhile until I was in direct sunlight.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

As I continued on, I didn’t realize that I was on the wrong trail. Some clouds were blowing in as well. I was hoping for clearer skies, but I wasn’t going to complain. Eventually, I came upon a campsite with a tent and a hitch rack for horses. The trail ended there. I walked out into a field beyond the campsite, but was unable to locate a trail anywhere. As I walked back to the campsite, I heard a bull elk bugling from somewhere off in the trees. It’s getting close to mating season for elk and I figured the camp was made by hunters.

There was a faint trail that headed off toward the southwest from the camp, so I decided to follow it for a bit and see where it lead. After walking for only about half a mile, it crossed a deep stream which I could not traverse. I had no other choice but to turn around and head back. I stopped and took a couple photos along the way.

 

 

 

 

On the way back, I almost lost my way. I saw a trail beyond fallen tree and decided to go that way. The trail was unfamiliar to me until I came across my “Eco Lips” chapstick in the trail. That was a bizarre feeling. I thought I was on a new trail, but as it turns out, I was actually on the correct path back.

On the way back to the trailhead, I took a few more panos. As I was just about to get back to my truck, sprinkles of rain started falling from the sky. It didn’t last long, though.

 

 

 

 

I made it back to my truck at 1:00 and headed home.