Sego Lily

June was second wetest June on record for the Front Range. This has resulted in a bummer crop of wildflowers, chest high grasses, and bugs. This week I went for a stroll on the Mesa Trail and took pictures of over 20 species of wildlfowers. There are some species I have never seen bloom in this area. One of these is the Sego or Mariposa Lily (Calochortus gunnisonii).

The Sego Lily blooms from May through August and is usually in the Foothills and Montane zones in open meadows and fields.

In this picture you can see the individual stems.

The open field filled with Sego Lilies

Acorn Creek

Distance: 2.6 miles one way to the Aspen grove above the "ridge with a view"
Elevation: 8,647 ft - 10,200 ft (by barometric GPS)/10,400 ft (by Summit Hiker)
Elevation Gain: 1,553 ft (by GPS), 1,768 ft (by Summit Hiker)

Our alfresco lunch spot on a high ridge overlooking the Gore Range

A hike up Acorn Creek north of Silverthorne will make you want to quit your job, sell your house, put your mother in a home, and move to Colorado! The views of the Gore Range from this moderate hike are stunning to say the least. Couple that with blankets of early season wildflowers and near solitude, and you have the makings for a life changing event.

The trailhead, looking west

The beginning of the trail starts out in a Sagebrush meadow, which in June is filled with Lupine.

The trailhead is located north on hwy 9 for approximately 10.6 miles. After you cross the Blue River you will immediately turn right onto CR 2400 (Ute Park Rd). At the first junction, continue left following the trailhead sign. Then turn right onto FDR 2402 (Rodeo Dr) and travel approximately 0.6 miles to the trailhead/parking lot in a broad Sagebrush valley filled by mid-June with Lupine, a Sagebrush loving wildflower.

Walking through one of several Aspen Groves

Yet another climatic zone. This time another Sagebrush meadow

True to the guidebooks, the trail passes through several climatic zones that include the aforementioned Sagebrush, a lush riparian stream, Aspen forest, pine forest, and grass covered ridges. The trail climbs relentlessly, so a moderate level of fitness is required to get the best views. Turning around periodically one can see the Gore Range, but the best view by far is at the ridge.

Looking back down the trail at the Gore Range seen through towering Aspens

There is a long segment with logs sunk into the ground every yard or so. This is looking back down the trail in the early part of that segment.

Some of the distance milestones along this trail include a drop down to Acorn Creek within a half mile with a less than sturdy log bridge over the creek; the entrance to the Ptarmigan Wilderness at 1.8 miles (listed as 2.0 miles in the guide book), a wooden trail sign pointing to the right at 2.0 miles, a very short but steep up shortly thereafter, and a dead end into a a gully around (I did not mark it) 2.3 miles.

At the gully, turn left. Ahead is the "ridge with a view". At the top of the ridge is the small aspen grove where we turned around.

The boundary of the wilderness area is up ahead in the trees

Heartleaf Arnica blanketed the forest floor in the pine forests

Directly above the Aspen grove where we turned around is a very obvious avalanche chute coming down from the Lower Ute Peak. We don't own a topographic map of the area and assumed the trail continued up the side of Lower Ute Peak. This is not true. After the Aspen grove, the trail heads south along the ridge and actually ascends to the pass to the right of the peak. Had we known this, we might have continued on. The journey to the pass adds an additional 900 ft of elevation gain in 0.9 miles. From the looks of it, that elevation gain occurs within last 0.5 miles, so it is very steep but not too daunting.

This is a short ridge walk right after the very steep segment. We were thinking this might be the destination but it is another 0.3 miles beyond and up and to the left.

Looking down into the gully. With all the Aspens, this trail will be spectacular in the fall. The final destination of the trail is to the right of the peak in the middle of the picture.

We only saw two other groups on the trail, one of whom ended up sharing our ridge as we ate our peanut butter sandwiches. Had I had a barka lounger, you would have never dragged me off the ridge. As it was, the slightly lumpy, slightly prickly plot of earth I chose for my alfresco dining spot was luring me into complacency despite the building clouds. Just in time, I pulled my body up and headed back down. By the time we reached civilization, the storms had arrived and our plans for an outdoor meal in Silverthorne were squashed in a sea of moody and rumbling clouds.

Elaine is standing a little lower than where we ended up eating. We actually went all the way up the ridge and through the Aspen Grove you see in the distance.

The upper Aspen grove

In an attempt at fair disclosure, be advised that the houses near the Acorn Creek trailhead sell in the millions, so perhaps it is better to bring Mom and her Social Security check along when you drop everything and move here. Either way, Acorn Creek awaits you.

Alpine Forget-me-not

I climbed Mt. Sniktau on Thursday June 18 and then again on Tuesday June 23rd. In the span of those 4 days, the Alpine Forget-me-nots (Eritrichum aretioides) had sprouted in droves. The tundra wildflower season is here. In fact, these pictures come from this past weekends trip to Crystal Lake in Summit County. They are quite wide spread.

These diminutive flowers extend only an inch above the ground. The flower is about the size of my pinky nail. They are bright blue and stand out as clumps of color all across the tundra.

Pesman Trail (Mount Goliath Nature Area)

Distance: 3 miles round trip
Elevation: 11,503 ft to 12,152 ft
Elevation Gain: 649 ft
Bathroom at Trailhead: Yes
Dogs: On leash, wilderness
Date Hiked: 18 June 2009

The Pesman trail wanders through a Bristlecone Pine forest but also has stunning views of the open tundra.

The Pesman Trail, sometimes called the Mount Goliath Trail, is a fascinating walk amongst the oldest living trees on earth, the Bristlecone Pine (Pinus aristata). The trail starts at the Dos Chappell Nature Center located 3 miles up from the Mt. Evan's fee station. A Federal lands pass ($80.00/yr) will now get you in. There is plenty of parking, a bathroom, and an interpretive forest ranger on duty to answer all your questions. At noon the Ranger on duty leads a 45 minute interpretive walk through the alpine gardens adjacent to the Nature Center.

The beginning of the trail, while packed dirt, does ascend 500 or more feet in a short series of switch backs.

One of the Bristlecones along the trail

The trail gains most of its 642 ft in the first half mile. Since it starts above 11,000 ft, this means lung-sucking distress for most of us. The trail has the advantage, however, of being relatively smooth with only occasional rocky portions. Quite a rarity in Colorado.

When the trail levels out, it leaves the forest for a rocky slope with tundra views.

Besides wandering through a square mile of Bristlecone Pines, the trail also traverses a broad ridge with distant views, tundra flowers, and towering boulders. It really is incredibly scenic. I kept expecting a herd of Mt. Evan's resident Mountain Goats to come trotting into view.

Looking west. The two peaks on the far right of the picture are Chief Mountain and Squaw Mountain.

The trail ends at a picnic area on Mt. Evan's Road. I almost did not go all the way because I had already climbed most of the way up Mt. Sniktau earlier that morning and was really feeling the altitude, but I am glad I did. From the terminus of the trail, there are incredible views of the Continental Divide to the west. There is also a short Alpine Garden Trail in the area, which later in the season is filled with low-lying but flowering tundra plants.

The upper trailhead. Near the car is a picnic table.

Near the upper trailhead is the intersection with the Alpine Garden Trail. There are also great views of the Continental Divide.

If one has two cars, then making the Pesman Trail a shuttle hike would be possible either heading up for maximum cardiovascular distress, or heading down for an easier outing. This trail is a great way to spend time above treeline without having to scale thousands of feet in elevation gain. The views are well worth the effort and seeing the Bristlecone Pines is a rare treat.

Lupine

Lupine at the Acorn Creek Trailhead

Lupine on the Tenderfoot Trail

Colorado has been inundated with rain this spring, which has made for a bummer crop of wildflowers. Lupine (Lupinus argenteus) is one of my favorites. It grows on dry slows that are also covered with Sagebrush. Lupine is a member of the Legume family, which means the bacteria in along its roots return Nitrogen to the soil.

Bristlecone Pine

The Bristlecone Pines of Mount Evans

These twisted and gnarled trees are living metaphors for how to thrive in adversity. Actually preferring harsh conditions, the Bristlecone Pine (Pinus aristata) lives on the south-facing slopes of high mountain peaks where the wind never ceases and moisture is hard to come by. They love the contrast between intense sun and deep cold and have evolved a series of creative adaptations that proves once again that Mother Nature, or Natural Selection if you prefer, can master anything.

Most pine trees shed their needles yearly. The Bristlecone in contrast only sheds its needles every 10 to 15 years. It also is very slow growing. Its narrow growth rings create a very dense wood that is hard for pests to penetrate. It is also makes the tree slow to decompose. Centuries after death, the Bristlecone can remain standing, a mute testament that man's hubris. The Pyramids were raised and will crumble long before the average Bristlecone Pine turns to dust. If you are looking for a fast growing privacy tree, don't look for a Bristlecone!

The same trees as in the photo above taken from the short interpretive trail

There places to bump into Bristlecone Pines along the Front Range. Many of the hikes in the Mt. Evans area including Chief Mountain and Chicago Lakes have them. I was surprised to run into a stand of them up Mt. Royal near Frisco. The photos in this post were taken on Mt. Evans at the Mount Goliath Research Natural Area. There is a short interpretive trail through the trees as well as a 3-mile trail (Pesman Trail) that really lets you get up close and personal to the "ancient ones".

While some Bristlecones have been dated to 4,900 years old, the oldest on Mt. Evans is only 1,750 years old. Quite young by Bristlecone standards. Perhaps that is why there were so many beer cans laying around the base of the trunks. These Bristlecones are in their late 20's.

A dead Bristlecone on the Pesman Trail. How many centuries has this stump been standing?

Not all Bristlecones possess the twisted shape that identifies them to most people. That is an adaption for life near treeline where the conditions are the harshest.

The forest service does a talk on the Bristlecones every day at noon during the season at the Dos Chappell Nature Center, which is 3 miles up the Mt. Evans road from the fee station. Entrance to the Mt. Evans area is now covered by the standard Federal Lands/Parks Pass ($80/year), so you have no excuse not to visit.

Gold Hill Trail (the one near Breckenridge)

Distance: 5 miles round trip to the summit
Elevation: 9,100 to 10,315 ft
Elevation Gain: 1,215 ft
Bathroom at Trailhead: No
Dogs: Off leash
Date Hiked: 16 June 2008

Views of the Tenmile Range at the beginning of the trail

Gold Hill is an easy trail near the Breckenridge ski resort that I do whenever I go up for our annual climate conference. I have never made it to the summit because I am invariably doing this trail in the evening after work. I have a general idea of things, however, and feel I can describe it sufficiently.

Clear cutting

The clear cut area was filled with log piles and heavy equipment. That is Mt. Baldy in the distance.

The photos in this post are actually from 2008. I have held off blogging this trail because it is too disturbing for me. Like the proverbial ostrich with its head in the sand, I am trying to ignore the fact that that vast majority of the Ponderosa Pines in Summit County, and the rest of Colorado for that matter, are dead and or dying. The cause of this destruction is the Pine Beetle. This diminutive little creature, no larger than the nail of one's pinky, is responsible for the death of over 7 million acres of prime forest and it is not done yet.

Looking back down the trail to the east

Standing in the clear cut looking south

While a natural part of the forest ecosystem, drought and overly dense forests have added to the beetle's potency. Huge strands of forest along all the major road ways, throughout the ski resorts, and deep into the wilderness are now a sickly brown. The beetle, sometimes thousands of them, burrow under the bark. The feed, live, and breed there. This chokes off the nutrient supply for the tree, quickly killing it. Since the beetles prefers live trees, they quickly move on, only to kill again.

A close up of the Tenmile Range

Downed trees from a previous attempt to thin the forest

Management of the beetle is impossible over the many acres affected and may not even be a wise choice considering the natural aspect of the outbreak. Restoration now seems to be the main effort. Gold Hill is a prime example of what I have been observing in other parts of the state. The first portion of the trail takes the hiker through a clear cut area in which every tree is being removed. The bare hillside is stark, foreboding, and cluttered with piles of logs. When I hiked this trail in June of 2008, I could not help but ask myself if this was the future of all of Summit County. If so, the future is dire for the locals who live there and the transients who come and spend a lot of money to enjoy Colorado's bounty.

One of the few places on the trail with a view

After transiting the clear cut zone, the Gold Hill trail winds its way through thick forest. Tree trunks litter the ground in droves. These dead trees are not beetle kill but are the results of an earlier attempt to thin the forest. Even with that effort, the forest is like a wall. Only occasional glimpses of peaks can be seen from the dark, sinister interior. The trees still standing are visibly dying, however, like all the others in the state. Their crone-like branches droop, lifeless and austere. A good wind, and they will be flattened, or so it seems.

Crossing a slight open area in the forest. You can see how tightly packed the trees are

We wandered continually upwards through the dark forest until we ran out of time and had to turn around. I am guessing we were within a quarter of a mile of the small bump that is the summit of Gold Hill. It was actually a blessing to be able to escape from the darkness and back out into the clear Colorado evening.

A clear view of Mt. Baldy

While Gold Hill is considered a classic Colorado Hike, there are so many other incredible hikes that I am hesitant to recommend this one. Its primary advantage for me is that it is snow free in June, while other trails like Quandary Falls can be a soggy mess. I have also done this trail as a hiking interlude while biking between Breckenridge and Frisco. The trailhead is right on the bike path. Certainly the earlier downed forest is interesting to see.

Heading back down the logging road and returning into the light

Pawnee Buttes Road Trip: Part 2 Lunch at the Buttes

Pawnee Buttes and the wide-open prairie

This is the second in a two-part series describing my Memorial Day road trip to the Pawnee Buttes. The first half describes my visit to the Cedar Fork Wind Farm.

It has been six years since I have visited the Pawnee Buttes and I can tell you there were no wind turbines when I last visited. Now they are everywhere. Gone are the ghosts of the early pioneers who lumbered across the plains to the sounds of the meadowlark. The wind still blows and the sky is still broad, but the distant turbines hum and the air is charged with modernity.

The eastern-most butte

The western most butte with wind turbines in distance

The Pawnee Buttes are part of the White River Badlands, which stretch from Colorado to South Dakota and rise 250 ft above the surrounding prairie. A two-hour drive ends in a large parking lot with a port-a-potty but the view here is disappointing. The buttes are partially obscured from this location by a ridge, so to be fully seen from this point one must hike the the 3 mile round trip Lipps Bluff Trail. An alternative is to back out from this area and take a dirt road heading down a ridge to the trailhead for the to 2.2 mile (round trip) Pawnee Buttes Trail. The Pawnee Buttes Trail is flat and goes to the base of the buttes. It is open all year while the Lipps Bluff trail is closed from 1 March to 30 June to protect nesting raptors.

The escarpment to the left is where the Lipps Trail goes. The pond was filled with the croaking of frogs but I never did find one. They stayed hidden in the grasses.

We chose to drive down the road past the Pawnee Buttes Trailhead because our goal this trip was to lounge and feed, not to walk. Our reasoning was two fold. The day before we had hiked the sodden Greyrock Mountain Trail out of Fort Collins and were loath to strain even the slightest muscle. A secondary consideration was that our friend on the trip had an injured leg and we were sparing him the pain of walking cross country.

Close up of the water tower where we picnicked. I had never been this close to one before even though I have seen many from the road. The pump went up and down and water poured in spurts from the tube visible in the upper portion of the photo. The pond in the previous photo was formed by run off from this tank.

We watched this thunderstorm travel south to north. The clouds near the ground is the roll cloud, which precedes these types of storms. The top of the ridge is the main parking area, and the parking area you can see with the vehicles is the Pawee Buttes Trailhead.

The weather was not particularly conducive to picnicking but we managed to park our car next to one of those old fashioned metal windmills a quarter of a mile from the second trailhead and angled the auto in such a way that it blocked the steady and nippy wind. We were fortunate that the thunderstorm we watched roll across the area was far enough away to only sprinkle on us. Our interlude was short however, and after eating we were driven back into the car as the rain began.

Example of the rolling dirt roads in this part of Colorado. This was taken on Rd 127 looking north.

Not satisfied with this brief glimpse of the buttes, we decided to circumnavigate them. This is easy to do since Colorado is crisscrossed with country roads. If you own a Colorado Gazetteer, it is easy to follow our route. From the windmill, which is actually marked on the map, we took 111 Rd south then 110/11050 Rd east. This dead ends into 127 Rd, which we took north. The view of the Buttes here is very different. From 127 Rd we turned west onto 118 Rd, which becomes 382 Rd. At this point, the rain really began and the dirt road we were on became a slippery swamp. There are actually some slight hills in this area and my sedan was having difficulty getting up them in the mud that was quickly forming. My car fishtailed up and down the hills straining everyone's nerves. It was not until we finally returned to pavement near Grover that we felt safe. Who knew the open prairie could be so hazardous. There are actually sandy gullies on either side of the road and sliding into either of these would have required a tow.

A very grainy image of a Lark Bunting Calamospiza melanocorys. These birds are more hyperactive than I am and did not sit still very long. This made them very hard to photograph with my limited 200m lens.

Throughout the entire area were Lark Buntings (Calamospiza melanocorys), Colorado's state bird. They are rather skittish and I had the devil of a time trying to photograph one. Sneaking up in the car did not work nor did getting out of the car and ungracefully plodding along the fence line. I do need a higher zoom lens. The Lark Bunting is a member of the sparrow family, and the males are dark black with a distinctive white wing patch. These birds eat insects, seeds and grains. They forage on the ground and actually avoid the shrubbery. They build their nests on the ground near the roots of a shrub. The Lark Bunting is migratory arriving in Colorado in April and leaving by September.

The buttes seen from the distant 127 Rd. From this vantage it is easier to see the extent of the wind turbines on the distant chalk cliffs.

A trip to the Pawnee Buttes is a great scenic drive. The prairie is an overlooked area of state, which is very unfortunate. The history, wildlife, sheer expansiveness of the area is worth experiencing. The return trip also provides a brief glimpse into the emotional state of the early explorers who saw the Rocky Mountains for the first time and viewed them as an insurmountable barrier instead of as a weekend playground. Within Colorado the prairie is highly varied. The northern portion has buttes while the southern portion is filled with canyons, of which Vogal Canyon and Picketwire Canyon are two of the better known ones.

A prairie sunset on the way home. The storms this spring have been prodigious.