Insta Famous

8/2

Dawn brought with it the promise of good weather, a balmy breeze banishing the thick clouds in favor of the clear blue skies and puffy white clouds that Colorado is so famous for. Great weather for a hike!

I drove up to the Aspen Highlands Resort and bought another bus ticket up to the Maroon Bells. The bus ride up was much the same as it was yesterday, though some of the bus driver's narrative was slightly different. But when we got up to the trailhead - wow. Talk about a big difference!

The clear skies and morning sun illuminated the meadows and mountains in a magnificent way, rendering yesterday's gray scene in a rainbow of violently vibrant colors. Emerald meadows were dotted with brilliant yellows, whites, and lavenders where thousands of wildflowers nestled, nodding in the gentle breeze. Those red mountains from yesterday were even redder, popping against the blue sky and green meadows as if in a contest for the most brilliant hues. And the Bells! Gone were the stark solemn grays and blacks, replaced by nuanced hues of brown, gray, and yes, maroon, punctuated by white lines of snow. Absolutely stunning.

I even bothered to get a photo with me in it

The crowds were heavy, of course - and who would expect any different on a perfect summer day in a place like this? But it really wasn't too bad, as many people seemed to be just taking a snapshot or two from the pavement and then leaving. And I have to say that that hurt me, a little. Well, I guess it hurt me more than a little. I simply could not believe that there were people who felt that this scene deserved less than 15 minutes of their time. How could you miss the splendor? All of the amazing little details that can't be captured in a photograph? The feeling of a world bigger than you?

The heart of this, I know, is socia media. It's amazing for so many things - connecting people, helping transfer of knowledge, spreading ideas, raising awareness. But it also has a tendency of cheapening experiences, reducing them into snapshots that can be used as currency to lend value to your life. In a way, it makes your life into a game - seeing who can collect the most experiences, the most places. And so, the Maroon Bells - the most-visited, most-photographed mountains in the States - become just another card in the game. Just another place at the end of a bus stop to be liked and commented on, but not really experienced. Not in the way that makes you consider yourself and your world deeply, as I believe is so important for us.

I work hard to avoid that 2D look at the world in this blog. As far as I'm concerned, everywhere I go is amazing and beautiful, because, well, I love the outdoors. But I strive to impart the sense of a place, all the details that strike me, the sights and sounds that all contribute to a place's beauty. The more immersive approach - wordy as it is - is important to me, because I want people to see more than just the final snapshot. I want them to see the processes that shaped a place, to imagine the sounds and the weighty silence in their absence, to envision how the animals fit into their environment, to see the whole picture within the picture. Because it's imperative that we see ourselves, ultimately, as part of the picture, not the one holding the camera.

I love that social media has given these places visibility, I really do. So many people grow up in one place, never seeing anything outside of their immediate environment. So I love that social media has inspired so many people to look outside, to go and find these places. But... I just wish there was a way to better show people the feeling of a place, to show them something deeper beyond the photograph. To inspire them to consider a place more deeply instead of observing it briefly through the lens of a smartphone. But, I guess it's everyone's choice how they experience a place. So who am I to say that it should be my way?

Anyways, enough tedious musing. After I had taken my requisite "Instagramy" shots of the Maroon Bells, I itched for something with a little more substance. So I headed off on the Crater Lake trail in search of more of the world. At first, the trail was packed with people slowly making their way uphill, but the traffic dissipated in a quarter mile or so. From there it was smooth (but uphill) sailing through a pine-and-aspen forest, the rocky trail padded by soft needles and dappled by sunlight. The rustling of aspen leaves drowned out most conversation from nearby hikers, abruptly making the trail seem a lot more deserted than it really was. It was almost jarring, to so quickly transition from a packed tourist attraction to a peaceful remote forest. But it was jarring in a wonderful way.

The further up I went, the more wildlife I encountered. I think my favorites were the pikas, so tiny and fierce. They weren't at all afraid of people, instead sitting on their rocks and challenging passersby with sharp chirps.

The flowers were amazing, too, with Indian paintbrush and fleabane giving way to columbines as I ascended. The change must have something to do with the climate and temperatures, I think.

After much huffing and puffing - the elevation definitely got to me, I'll admit - I reached Crater Lake. Clouds had drawn in again, lending the mountains a moody feel. It was quite a bit cooler, too, almost making me wish I was wearing jeans (almost). I rested and had lunch, watching other hikers come and go with the same idea.

Eventually it was my time to go, so I hiked my way back down to Maroon Lake and veered off on a bit of the scenic loop. Unfortunately, the avalanches had not spared Maroon Lake or Crater Lake, so neither could be fully hked around. But the out-and-back trails were still quite nice.

When I'd had my fill of the Bells and their territory, I took the bus back down. Along the way we were lucky enough to see a fox kit and a bunch of marmots!

There's 4 in this shot!

Then Jane and I hopped back on the road and headed for Glenwood Springs.

I hoped to hike the popular Hanging Lake trail just east of Glenwood. I say hoped, because that absolutely did not happen.

Instead, I encountered an insane rainstorm while on I-70 in that crazy pass east of Glenwood Springs. The windshield wipers beat crazily as we drove through the partially flooded lower road, sending fountains of water up into the air. I briefly wondered if I would hydroplane off the road and into the roaring creek at the bottom of the canyon. But Jane is better than that, of course.

I got to the Hanging Lake turnoff and found it resoundingly closed, which I guess was a good thing given the magnitude of rainfall flooding the narrow canyon, But then I had to drive another few miles up, turn around, and... go through the storm again.

Except I didn't! In the ten minutes it took me to turn around, the storm mysteriously disappeared. So that was good, I guess. At least it made for a fun little side adventure.

My plans defeated, I departed for Fruita, my destination for the night. Along the way I caught my first glimpse of the Book Cliffs, famed site of classic clastic sedimentology! I wish that I could have gotten closer.

A kind of crappy photo of the Book Cliffs, hoping to get a better one tomorrow!

I had chosen my campsite at Colorado River State Park for its proximity to Colorado National Monument as well as its showers. Blessed, blessed showers.

This will be my home base for the next few days as I explore Colorado National Monument and McInnis Canyon NCA. Even if it's not a "real" campground - paved parking, gravel tent pads, and sprinklers watering the lawn - it does still have an awesome view of the Book Cliffs. Can't complain!

Until tomorrow... Kelly signing out.