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.

The Riches of Aspen

8/1

Well, it was bound to happen one of these years: I finally had to take a rain day today. Not that it was really raining very much at all. Actually, it was pretty much just drizzling at the most. But the problem was that I was in Aspen specifically to hike the Maroon Bells - arguably the most-Instagrammed mountains in the States (puke) - and I wanted good weather for it, dangit!

On the advice of a local, I parked Jane in the one garage in town that caps out at $10/day. I grabbed my bag and set out in search of breakfast, since I hadn't wanted to sit in the drizzle to make oatmeal. After checking out a few places, I quickly modified my search terms: I was looking for breakfast that cost under $20. How in the hell you can pay more than $20 for some eggs is beyond me.

I ended up at Poppycocks, a bustling little place that promised amazing never-before-seen eggs for under $15. Cool. I squished into a seat at the breakfast bar, asked the waitress about a couple of items (namely, which she would recommend), and then instead got advice from someone else at the counter, because the waitress couldn't recommend anything except what I definitely didn't want to eat. Strange. Anyways, what I finally ended up with was a kind of eggs benedict-florentine, which was reasonably good but certainly not worth $15. But one thing had been made clear to me in the short period of time I had been there: Aspen is an expensive town.

I wandered around town for a couple of hours, feeling more and more disillusioned with each passing moment. Maybe it was because I was rocking hobo levels of grime, having not had a proper shower in 4 days, so I was feeling a little out-of-place. But everyone seemed dressed to the nines for whatever their chosen activity was. Children in brand name polo shirts. Men adorned with glitzy watches and sunglasses, wearing shorts with who-knows-what logo stamped all over them. Women in the most expensive activewear, looking brand new. It was just a bit much.

I went into some shops, and didn't really like those either. Everything seemed to carry a bigger price tag than it would normally in any other city, for no discernible reason other than "It's from Aspen!". I found what appeared to be a rock and fossil shop - joy! - went inside, and found an entire wooly mammoth tusk being sold for $280,000. I also found a very fake palm leaf and skate specimen for a modest $96,000.

My conclusion, ultimately, was that Aspen is a pretty town on the surface, but entirely too self-obsessed. Certainly, it is far too nice for the likes of me! So I retreated to a Starbucks (this town is so swanky that there's only ONE Starbucks) and hammered out some blog posts, checked up on life on the outside. And it continued to drizzle.

Around 3:30, the clouds finally parted and it warmed up a bit. I was ready to get out of town, so I took the bus up to the Aspen Highlands Resort and bought a ticket for the bus going up to the Maroon Bells.

As obsessed with image and tourism-centric as Aspen is, it really does a remarkable job taking care of its natural resources. Cynically, I guess that could be just another reflection of their desire for a perfect image, but I'd like to think that it's not. Certainly, the Maroon Bells are the most photographed mountains in the States, appearing on social media incessantly. But they are also truly awe-inspiring in their beauty and the people who come to Aspen all want a glimpse of that. So though Aspen is all about the finest things one can buy, it is also, in some part, about recognizing and preserving the beauty of the natural world.

Consequently, the town of Aspen takes the care of its mountains very seriously. All vehicle traffic up to the Maroon Bells is prevented between 8AM and 5PM, and tourists are required to take a bus up instead. This reduces the crowd, drastically reduces emissions, and prevents traffic-related wear and tear on the environment. It's a similar system to the one employed by Zion National Park, for the same reasons. I'm a huge fan. Enough of a fan, in fact, that I mostly forgave my bad in-town experience in my appreciation for the town's out-of-town experiences.

The bus ride up was both pleasant and enlightening, as the driver rattled off interesting facts about the Bells and the surrounding area as we puttered uphill. Most notable were the staggering scars on the hillsides, evidence of massive avalanches that occurred this past winter and spring. As a whole, Colorado got more than double its usual snowfall this year, and Aspen saw 300 or 400% more than usual. The result? Amazing summer blooms, of course, but also devastating avalanches that crushed large trees without even slowing as they roared down the hillsides. The wreckage was impressive. I bet the real thing was even more so.

The bus finally arrived at the trailhead, and I piled out with the other tourists. Fortunately, there weren't too many people around since it as the end of the day. I took the oppotunity to poke around a bit, checking out the best photo spots and hiking partway up a couple of trails. Just reconn, really. The forecast for tomorrow is supposed to be much better, so I wasn't too worried about seeing all the sights today. But man, even on a cloudy day, this place is spectacular!

I kind of liked these mountains better, to be honest... I liked the red color and the jagged peaks! Still not sure what they're called though. 

Cheesing it up

Yes, the water really was this green - it was filled with some brilliant green filamentous algae that made for a cool reflection with the forest in the background. 

I determined that this is "the spot" for the best pictures - we'll see how it looks tomorrow!

Once I got back into town, Jane and I returned to the campsite and more drizzle. Hey, at least it makes for great sleeping weather, even if it makes for a terribly boring blog post. So, sorry about that... tomorrow will be better! Kelly signing out.

Vertigo

7/31

It rained most of the night but let up early enough for my tent to dry by morning, which I was very thankful for. I hate putting up a wet tent!

I headed over to the visitor center to query the rangers about my plan for the day, and received exactly the answer I expected. There aren't many hikes to choose from on the south rim, on account of you being... well... limited to the edge of a giant hole in the ground, you know. I had already hiked the Rim Rock Trail, and thus had completed 25% of all hikes available. What was left was to hike the Oak Flats trail, hike to Warner Point, and drive the south rim scenic drive. Easy enough to accomplish in a few hours.

I set out on the Oak Flats trail first, since it starts at the visitor center and I was already there. The trail takes you partway into the canyon for some nice views of the wall. Black Canyon has a really cool "marbled" look caused by the intrusion of light colored granitic dikes into darker ancient metamorphic geisses and schists. In simplified terms, millions of years ago a body of magma rose underneath the Black Canyon area, forcing its way into fissures in the preexisting rock. As it cooled, the magma crystallized into granite, full of large crystals of quartz and feldspar. These veins give the Black Canyon the marbled look we see today.

The vegetation was a little dense to get a good view of the canyon walls, which was disappointing. But there were some great flowers and animals to look at, which made up for it! I'm easily amused, I guess. Otherwise, it was a surprisingly unremarkable trail.

This is my favorite kind of flower - its symmetry is very pleasing!

So symmetrical!!

After I got back from my hike, I hopped between turnouts on the scenic rim drive until I reached the end. Each turnout was largely similar - more marbled brown-and-gray rock with a river at the bottom - and yet each was very, very different. Some turnouts showcased amazing connected dikes, others the roaring river below, and still others the complex arrangement of the walls. But one thing remained the same: the sense of vertigo. Something about the precipitous cliffs and the long vertical lines of the weathered rocks makes Black Canyon seem a lot more imposing. Fascinating, to be sure. But it was very disconcerting to spend the majority of the day feeling as if I was being inexorably pulled towards this giant hole.

Looking to the east, you can see the difference in the angle of the south-facing (left) slope vs. the north-facing (right) slope. The north-facing slope receives less sun and thus retains more moisture, which increases weathering!

Very hard to see, but this picture actually shows 3 or 4 different promontories, around which the river winds.

An extra-cool extra-large dike!

Supposedly the first people to go down this river did so on a rubber inflatable mattress... I cannot imagine that!!

Eventually I reached High Point, the end of the road. I lucked into finding a parking spot and took Warner's Trail out to the edge of the point. Though the Rim Rock trail provides the best views of the canyon, Warner's trail loks outwards and shows you what lies beyond the canyon. From that vantage point, you can see the grassy ledge below the highest point of the canyon, and beyond that, soft gray foothills and a number of towns at the base of the slope. It really gives you a sense of scale that can't be attained just by looking into the canyon. It is hard to remember that the top of the canyon is lifted far above the plateau floor, which is why the river has cut it down so deeply. In essence, Black Canyon is erosion's answer to a tectonic problem.

The overlooks gave me a good view of all of the weather for 30+ miles - and the weather started to look pretty grim indeed while I was up there. Increasingly large bands of rain swept across, bringing thunder and lightning with them. Pretty, but not something I wanted to experience first-hand. So I opted to skedaddle, fast.

But I didn't skedaddle so fast that I didn't have time to take a few photos of this really cool collared lizard!

Hard to believe this is a real lizard that exists in the wild!

I then instead got the pleasant experience of driving on partially flooded roads on the rim of an exceedingly deep canyon, which was... an experience. Not one that I would want to repeat, for sure. But we did make it down safely though, of course, winding back down the mountains, across the grassy ledge, down the gray foothills, and into the towns below. From there, we looped around to the north and back east.

We wound up in Aspen at dinnertime with rain threatening again on the horizon. I set up camp at Difficult Campground - which was really not so difficult - in record time, not anxious to eat my dinner in the rain.

The forecast for tomorrow is calling for more rain, so we'll see how things turn out. Until then, Kelly signing out!