Mountain States of Mind
Journal Entry #37
August 3, 2022
In about mid-June we began what we are fondly referring to as the “Mountainscape Phase” of our journey. It began in the San Juan Range of Colorado where we had to build our “altitude” engines (legs and lungs) to be able manage 8,000+ elevations, and snow on the trails was a still commonplace occurrence. I must say that snow in June and July was a strange (and surprisingly refreshing) reality for someone used to the steamy summer conditions on trails back east at this time of year.
As we worked our way through Colorado, we started making progressively longer hikes and exploring the limits of our day-long hike tolerance. Ours was generally no more than 15 miles in length and about 3000 ft. of climb/elevation in any given day effort. Less than that was fine, allowing for consecutive days of hikes. More than that and the next day would have to be a complete rest and recover day.
I want to shout out and give big kudos to all those who do longer through hikes in elevation and choose to back country camp, like our friends John and Dawn, who managed to hike from Denver to Durango on the Colorado Trail. While we are happy to take on some challenging trails and to endure some tough conditions, we also know that our kitchen, toilet, shower, cold beverages and a very comfortable bed await us when we return to the trailhead at the end of the day. Having spent nearly a year on the road, our philosophy is that all forms of adventuring and seeking out new places are good, whether by RV, or tent, or truck, or plane, or boat, or bike. To each his/her own style of adventure, we say. Or as Steve Martin (hoping you’ll get this Dirty Rotten Scoundrels reference) might say: “To adventure is better than… to not.”
Our mountainscape phase was also the beginning of a series of visits to some of our top “bucket list” destinations, many of them National Parks; the Rocky Mountains, Yellowstone, Grand Teton, (and later North Cascades and Glacier). These parks are spectacular natural wonders that, for the most part, I had only seen in glossy coffee table books. They had entered my young consciousness through Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom on TV. Those of you of a certain age will, hopefully, join me in a deep reverence for Marlin and Stan’s documentary adventures in the wild. (And I can still sing the jingle… sing it with me friends… Mutual of Omaha is people… you can count on when the going’s rough🎶)
In making our way to these “must sees” we found ourselves researching other destinations that would be interesting and beautiful on the way- in between the bucket list stops. We added the San Juans, the Snowies, the Wind River Range and the Sawtooth Mountains. These places were what we called our “B-sides” — stops that we would camp at and explore on our way to the “biggies.”
I am going to preface the next few paragraphs with a full recognition that I am about to offer personal commentary on six jaw droppingly beautiful places— three National Parks: Rocky Mountain, Yellowstone and Grand Teton and three National Forests: the San Juans, the Sawtooth Wildnerness of Idaho and the Snowy Mountains/Wind River Range of Wyoming. I am self conscious of the fact that in offering any of this commentary that I might sound somehow unappreciative. To be clear, I am deeply grateful that in the span of just over two months I have had the privilege of visiting these extraordinary places as part of a trip of a lifetime. But humans are funny creatures with a habit of assessing and comparing (and I am no different on that front). So here goes.
First, let’s just say that the National Parks are deemed as such for good reasons. They are BEAUTIFUL and should be seen and revered. The Rocky Mountains are the glittering jewels of the Rockies, peaks that dazzle against blue skies, vast glacial moraines with wandering herds of elk, crystalline clear lakes and streams and wind brushed alpine meadows. The iconic Grand Teton National Park of Wyoming, has its huge prominences that rise impossibly and dramatically, like massive grey ship’s sails over the flat grasslands of the Jackson valley. And then there is Yellowstone. Certainly one of the “Grand daddies” of parks - a place often spoken about in hushed tones; it is both a wonderland of active geology, with its spouting geysers, and stunningly colorful, steaming hot springs, massive waterfalls and an epic caldera-formed lake, and also of wildlife; a convergence of populations of bison, elk, bear, moose, wolves and birds of prey roaming freely in one place. It is veritable American Garden of Eden. Each of these parks lived up to their reputations, but… alas, we were not alone in admiring the grandeur.
Don’t get me wrong. I love company. I am a city person at heart, having lived three decades in or around NYC. I love the buzz of humanity whether it’s a wander on a city street at night, the energy of a popular museum or city park, the crush of a bar on a Friday night, the hum of a busy restaurant at dinner time, the electricity of live music with the crowds dancing and singing along. On this trip we made sure cities were on our itinerary in between our remote adventures. For me it was like a form of necessary comfort food; and when cities were quieter than anticipated (admittedly NYC is hard to match in terms of people energy) I would often remark, where are all the people!?
But when it comes to spending time in nature, the truth is I want the splendor largely to myself.
Of course, we expected the National Parks to be busy given we were in high season, but still we were surprised by the sheer throngs of humanity. To be fair, for most of our journey so far we had been traveling to destinations during shoulder seasons or opting for fairly remote locations, so visiting these parks at peak season was a complete shock to our system. We found it harder to contemplate the majesty of beautiful places and feel truly immersed in them when the crowds were a constant distraction.
In our travels we have noted that most people generally follow the “one-mile” rule. That is, 90% of people will remain within one mile of a parking area. Once you walk/hike more than a mile you generally have the place to yourself.
The rule was in effect in the National Parks too, but, the sheer volume of people meant that the mileage increased. The “peopley” factor was super dense at any trailhead, overlook or parking lot but even on the trails we encountered “traffic” jams.
To try to avoid crowds, advance planning was required. At night, before bed, we would examine maps and apps, developing tactics for our days like we were organizing a military operation.
Our first rule of thumb to help make the most of our time in the National parks was to override what has become our on-the-road norm: to wake up when we feel like it. Instead, we set alarms for the wee pre-dawn hours (ouch). The great advantage of carrying your house with you is that you can wake up in the dark, drive in your pjs to a trailhead in the van, make coffee there, change into your gear and get on the trail before the crowds descend. We did this frequently. And I will say that even with the crazy waking hours we chose, we had other hearty company. One morning in Rocky Mountain NP we made our way up to our chosen trail at 5:30 am and discovered there were only two parking spots left in the lot.
No matter how early we started, by 9 am — the witching hour when shuttle buses/people movers start in most of the National Parks— we could expect crowds even 5+ miles in on trails.
Here are our top “peopley peeves”, a large majority of which occurred in the National Parks:
The “wooters” — I do get it. You are excited to be in such a beautiful place. But exclaiming it loudly by shouting something like “WOOOOT” or “OOOHHH YEAH BAY-BEEEE” isn’t really necessary. It kinda breaks the mood and scares off any wildlife that you might have had the privilege of seeing. One group of wooters I remember most was at the eruption of Old Faithful. Everyone (yep, a sizable crowd) was awaiting the moment, cameras poised to record. And then it happened — steam belching and water towering up… and it was amazing, save the constant commentary from the peanut gallery next to us. “OH HELL YEAH, there it GOES! YESSSSS! WOOOOT!!!”
The middle-of-the-trail slow shufflers— Here, I admit my east coast tendency to walk with vigor and purpose. It’s okay to stop and marvel on a trail. It’s okay to take your time. But there is also trail etiquette. If you are stopping and other hikers are around you, you move to the side of the trail to let them pass. You don’t stop to have a long philosophical discussion in The. Middle. Of. The. Trail. Obliviousness makes me crazy.
The “kids-won’t-change-my-groove” parents— These are mostly young outdoorsy parents who assume that they can take on a 14 mile, aggressively steep hike in 90F temperatures with their three year olds. Look, I applaud the concept of wanting your children be active outdoors. But the phenomenon we observed seemed to be more about the parents’ unwillingness to sacrifice their “pre-child lifestyle” and accept the limitations of a toddler in tow. Inevitably, this misguided ambition leads to EPIC meltdowns which are big nature buzz-killers. And even if YOU don’t want to wear it, please put sunscreen and a hat on your children. (So many sunburnt babies. Oyvey.)
The Insta-everything folks— Again, I understand the wish to capture a moment for posterity. I myself can be trigger happy on the picture front. But I make an effort to point, shoot and move on. The insta-everything type tends to be a “photo-spot hog”- they occupy that great overlook or rocky pinnacle as if no one else is there. They set up shop with their tripods, taking picture after picture, stopping to review the shots, and retaking them over again to get that perfect insta-worthy one. Meanwhile, a picture line forms. Uggh.
Of all of the National Parks we have visited, Yellowstone was particularly Disney-like for us. The park is vast and the Grand Loop seems set up to move people through it - in cars and RVs and big tour buses - and it seems to appeal to those that want to see nature’s wonders and wildlife without having to leave their vehicles very much.
Despite these complaints, no time ever felt wasted at any of these “bucket list” parks. We found our own magic utilizing early mornings, finding the less popular paths, and making the effort to go just a bit “further in” than most.
But if you ask me to close my eyes and recall the most memorable experiences of our mountainscape phase so far, they don’t include Rocky Mountain NP, Yellowstone, or Grand Teton. The best moments were nearly all at our “B-side” camping spots. On the whole, we had fewer expectations for these places and so our surprise and delight came easily. In general, we had the ability to camp in locations with stunning views, steps from trails (which meant fewer pre dawn alarms!) Our B-side destinations had few or no neighbors at all.
Because of this, and unlike the National Parks, these places felt more intimate; as if we were “discovering” them for the first time. Without distractions, we could be more present for the experience - the wildness, the vastness, the quiet. The majesty and sheer beauty. I will never forget crossing deep snow fields to reach Columbine lake, still dotted with ice flows. Or sheltering from a hailstorm and then climbing to the boulder-strewn pass between North and South Gap lakes as the sun broke through the storm cloud formations over Medicine Bow. Or being awed by the mighty razor like peaks of the Sawtooths and climbing above the tree line to take in the views of the deep blue crystal lake, and then later to be hushed to sleep by the soft sound of the fast moving Iron Creek which flowed just steps from our campsite. Yes, it’s trite but to sum it up, the moral of the story (which you all know) is to be sure to take the path (hike!) less traveled. We have had the luxury of our van and the time to make this possible.
As I re-read this entry, it occurs to me that my comparing and contrasting is just a flawed human habit of attempting to categorize experiences, memories and feelings. The comparisons are fun but irrelevant, if I am honest. Because the truth is that I am filled with immense gratitude for all of it.
Beautiful. In our years of living out West, we’ve come to truly love the “B”
Places that the tourists don’t really know about.💜🙌🏽
Just like the old 45 rpm records (l'm showing my age), the B side was sometimes a hidden jewel that equaled or superseded the A side!