“We all have dreams, but they don’t mean much if we don’t act on them, if we put them away in a drawer labeled ‘someday’ for when we think we’ll have more time later” - Brendan Leonard
Started with a thought. Probably some perusal of old photos. Then the phone call. “whadya think....” and so it goes.
I get to say I have the coolest parents. My mom, always saying “well how do you think this works?” always encouraging thought and consideration. My dad, understanding, expecting, not settling for ok. 40+ years of marriage, camping for their anniversary, still encouraging each other, and by default me.
Not settling for ok, thinking back on this trip and remembering a certain adventure from high school called the Continental Divide Trail. A couple flatlanders packing from Wolf Creek Pass to Silverton. I asked how we came to do that trip way back when with a largely unknown group. “Oh, I encouraged Phil to do it” Then it kind of made sense. You see, we had backpacked with a group from the Rocky Mountain Baptist Conference a couple times. Phil was the leader. Started with easier trails, Pine Creek, up over to Chicago Basin another year up around Emerald Lake, and finally one on the Continental Divide.
This trip, was one of those “not waiting for someday”. 65th Birthday forced the someday to now. I made a little protest, saying something along the lines of “Dad, our last backpack was 27 years ago!” But he persisted and plans were constructed.
Our journey started at Vallecito Reservoir, climbed up Vallecito Creek Trail, to Johnson Creek Trail. Then climb a little more to Columbine Lake, over Columbine Pass (12,674’) into Chicago Basin, and down to the Durango & Silverton Narrow Gauge Railroad Train and back to Durango.
The Plan was to hike 2 days, spend 2 days exploring and fishing at Columbine Lake, then hike 2 days down to the train. Well, that was the plan anyways. Miles on the kiddos and elevation effects on the lowlanders made shorter mileage days and walking everyday.
Started with a thought. Probably some perusal of old photos. Then the phone call. “whadya think....” and so it goes.
I get to say I have the coolest parents. My mom, always saying “well how do you think this works?” always encouraging thought and consideration. My dad, understanding, expecting, not settling for ok. 40+ years of marriage, camping for their anniversary, still encouraging each other, and by default me.
Not settling for ok, thinking back on this trip and remembering a certain adventure from high school called the Continental Divide Trail. A couple flatlanders packing from Wolf Creek Pass to Silverton. I asked how we came to do that trip way back when with a largely unknown group. “Oh, I encouraged Phil to do it” Then it kind of made sense. You see, we had backpacked with a group from the Rocky Mountain Baptist Conference a couple times. Phil was the leader. Started with easier trails, Pine Creek, up over to Chicago Basin another year up around Emerald Lake, and finally one on the Continental Divide.
This trip, was one of those “not waiting for someday”. 65th Birthday forced the someday to now. I made a little protest, saying something along the lines of “Dad, our last backpack was 27 years ago!” But he persisted and plans were constructed.
Our journey started at Vallecito Reservoir, climbed up Vallecito Creek Trail, to Johnson Creek Trail. Then climb a little more to Columbine Lake, over Columbine Pass (12,674’) into Chicago Basin, and down to the Durango & Silverton Narrow Gauge Railroad Train and back to Durango.
The Plan was to hike 2 days, spend 2 days exploring and fishing at Columbine Lake, then hike 2 days down to the train. Well, that was the plan anyways. Miles on the kiddos and elevation effects on the lowlanders made shorter mileage days and walking everyday.
The Forest Service warns “bridge 3 is out due to avalanche in 2004/2005” so we are prepared to cross the stream. We just don’t know where exactly that crossing happens.
The crossing isn’t bad, mid-thigh, and we make it across to skip stones during our lunch break. We finish up the second day at the Vallecito/Johnson Creek intersection.
Tomorrow is a shorter mileage day, but bigger elevation climb.
The climb up Johnson Creek trail is fairly steep, and meanders through the trees. We spent a little time huddled together under a poncho, backpacks in, feet and arms out. A bunch of turtles tipped up against each other.
We end up camping in a little stand of trees, about 2 miles trailwise, under Columbine Lake. It again is a good climb, and during our time on trail meet a few groups going with the intention of camping on the other side.
Our trip up to Columbine puts us there early afternoon, and we watch some storms skirt around us in other valleys. We get some exploring and some fishing, Cousin D catching some trout, Ms M and I hiking way up to explore a mine. What is it that makes a mine, or any abandoned structure, intriguing? Is it the attempt to piece together a story of the past?
Our campsite and tents are near the left edge of the lake.
On the way back down, we spy an ore cart, presumably from “our” mine. After a quick investigation, we decide to stage a fun photo.
Dinner at the lake house, which combined with salt, pepper and some freshly caught trout, kindled smiles and stories of the days climb. Since we’re over halfway through, there is even some discussion of dinner plans our first night back in civilization.
We had all evening to look at the steep trail up the mountain, and even watched 3 guys hike up while we played in camp. We all planned on about 30 minutes of strenuous climb. Perhaps we were deceiving ourselves, taking the thought experiment of suffering and converting it to delusional delight.
That night, we are treated to a thunderstorm of mountainous proportion. We watched as several systems did the equivalent of rubber necking on a highway collision, but closely observed the building of a giant cloudbank. Not far and inline with our valley. That one did trundle our way, and as the evening light faded, showed it intentions in the footsteps of Tesla’s invention of the resonant transformer.
Our sturdy little abode from Mountain Hardwear withstood the storm, even with safety pins assisting the zipper. We were dry and as best we could recount, the closest lightning thunder combo separation was 3 seconds.
In any case, morning brings a change in lighting over the lake and some temps that make the coffee taste extra good.
In any case, morning brings a change in lighting over the lake and some temps that make the coffee taste extra good.
Once we top out on Columbine Pass, we get a look down into Chicago Basin. An area which sees literally 1000’s of visitors a year. It happens to be a great base camp for 4 14’ers, Eolus, North Eolus, Windom and Sunlight Peaks.
As it was a steep climb, so begins the steep descent. So much so that Ms M holds onto my pack as we baby step down the trail. The Basin brings mountain goat ewes and their kids. More mines to explore and people to meet.
Typically, the monsoon rains happen mid-day, and this day is no exception. The spruce trees offer some protection, their design shuffling the water to their dripline. We take advantage of this fact and hole up for awhile.
I’m reminded that the FAA requires pilots to have supplemental oxygen when operation over 12,000 feet. It must have been our whole night above 12,200 and the exertion, since we didn’t think of making coffee until after an hour of sitting under the trees.
Once in Chicago Basin, we found a cozy campsite and watched clouds roll in. That night treated us to the biggest rain of the trip. And a little lake inside our tent. Long night curled up on the islands called Thermarest. Yes, this was a backpack trip, yes, they were the short versions. Did I say it was a long night? That night was a blend between all roads lead to Rome and a river runs through it.
Breakfast was good at least. And the lighting on the mountain tops, fantastic.
We do know a hot meal which we didn’t prepare, and a soft bed awaits at today’s trail end. A hike down to the train, and a bridge which looks so inviting.
A good trip, and I suppose, teaching the next generation that some things are difficult. And even if they are difficult, they are worth finishing.
