Joe Mills Mountain

Back in the fall, our friend Aaron suggested Joe Mills Mountain as a good winter hiking destination in RMNP.  Named for an early advocate of the park, the summit provides excellent views of Odessa Lake, Odessa Gorge and the mountains of the Continental Divide.  We had concocted a plan to climb it on January 16th, but a snowstorm forced us to turn back before reaching the summit, as visibility was quite poor.

We were able to reach a high point on the ridge where we could see the blocky summit, but had to turn around when it became obvious we couldn't reach it from where we were.  We took a couple of quick photos as the wind battered us, before very carefully retreating down the steep snow-covered slopes and heading back to the trailhead.

Two weeks later, Laura and I made a second attempt under more favorable conditions.  This time we could actually see the mountain as we approached, making it much easier to pick out a suitable route.

We left the Odessa Lake Trail at a much earlier point and snowshoed through the woods towards the base of the mountain.  As Laura led the way, I noticed some interesting tracks in the snow, and stopped to take a closer look.  I followed them to a packed down area that had some unusual poo.

Puzzled, I called Laura back to help me figure out what animal had left these clues.  After a minute of reciting all the things it wasn't, we looked up in the tree above us, and saw what it was.  A porcupine!!!  Happily sleeping off a meal of woody delights.

It wasn't the elusive lynx Aaron always hopes to see, but it was thrilling nonetheless.  Whenever we stop to eat or take a moment to catch our breath, I always look up at the trees hoping to catch a snoozing pork; thinking to myself, "this is a good tree for a nap."  But I had never see one above me until now!!

After a few photos we continued on, zig-zagging our way up to a small saddle on the ridge.  Once at the saddle, we were only a couple of hundred feet below the summit, and pretty soon we had reached the top:

The views from the top were ridiculous.  We could see Odessa Lake below, with The Gable rising above it; plus Castle Rock, Gabletop Mountain, and Stones Peak to the north.

After some pictures, we made our way to the true summit and found a register in an old salsa jar.  We were the first people to have signed it in over two months!

The view to the west wasn't as good, as Notchtop and Flattop were covered in fast moving clouds, but we had a great view of Longs Peak to the south as we headed back down:

In an attempt to escape the wind, we ate lunch a little below the summit and then quickly made our way down the mountain.

We passed the porcupine again as we headed down.  He was still snoozing in the same tree, but had moved to a higher branch.  Soon we were back on the trail which was in much better condition, as plenty of people had packed it down since we passed earlier.  Oddly, we saw only two other people until we got near the parking lot.

It was a perfect day for a snowshoe, though it was too bad Aaron couldn't make it this time.  Weather permitting, we'd gladly do this hike again.  It's relatively easy for a summer hike, but makes for a great winter adventure.

Mt. Audubon

A week before Christmas we attempted an ambitious climb of Mt. Audubon.  In the summer, Audubon is one of the easier 13,000 ft mountains to climb as there is a trail all the way to the top.  It's only an 8 mile round-trip and slightly less than 3000 feet of elevation gain.  In the winter, it's a little more difficult because the road to the trailhead is closed, adding an additional 4 or 5 miles of hiking.

We got to the winter trailhead just before 6am and began hiking in the dark.  Thankfully the snow on the road was packed (due to copious use by x-country skiers) and there was ample light from the reflection of the last quarter (half) moon on the snow (didn't even need the headlamps this time!).  It was incredibly peaceful to walk through the calm woods, with only the moonlight to guide us.  In less than an hour, we made it to this view of Audubon just as the sun was rising:

Soon we were at the summer trailhead, and the snow was no longer packed down by use.  After strapping on our snowshoes, we made our way through the woods towards the base of the mountain.  Soon the trail completely disappeared and we climbed towards treeline, roughly following the snow obscured trail by memory.

Once above treeline the wind became ferocious.  Every time we've been in this area in the winter, the wind has been terrible.  Despite an almost perfect forecast, there was a steady 30-40mph wind, with probably 50-60mph gusts.  As we did our best to keep from being knocked to the ground, I spotted a couple of ptarmigan a little ways ahead:

They were in their full winter white.  I hadn't brought my longer telephoto "beast" lens, thinking there wouldn't be much in the way of wildlife (dang!!), so I tried to sneak up closer by contouring behind a snowbank.  As I peaked over the snowbank, I frightened a third bird I hadn't seen, and it took flight for a couple of seconds!!  He quickly landed and acted like nothing happened.  I had never seen a ptarmigan in flight before; they seem to prefer slow movement on the ground, even when threatened by a man with a camera.

Soon he made his way back to the other two, and we watched them meander along for a little while.  At this point we had our snowshoes off, as they were unnecessary on the windswept tundra, and far from helpful with balance when the wind accosted us.  Then we crossed a drift and Laura promptly sank in to her waist!!  Oops!
 

We continued on, eyes focused on the ground (the only way to avoid being blown over on the uneven terrain), plodding directly into the merciless headwind.  Despite the wind, I didn't feel cold as the sun was shining and it was otherwise a glorious day.  Unfortunately the exposed areas of my face (around my sunglasses) were being battered so ferociously, I was afraid I might get frostbite.  We decided to call it quits at about 12,000 feet, with this view of Mt. Audubon:

We both agreed we could have made it to the top, but it just wasn't worth it.  If we had ski goggles covering our exposed skin, we could have kept slogging on without worrying about frostbite.  We took a more direct route down, heading straight for Mitchell Lake.

It was really enjoyable to snowshoe now, since the wind was at our back, and we were going downhill!!  If only we could have had the tailwind going up!  We stopped to admire this view of Mitchell Lake, Navajo Peak (poking out in the distance), and Pawnee Peak (far right):

Back in the woods and sheltered from the wind, we had a pleasant snowshoe back to the summer trailhead.

We found a suitable picnic table and ate our PB&J lunch.

This was the nicest winter day we've had while at Brainard Lake, yet the wind was still unbearable.  We're definitely going to try this hike again, but with better preparation for the wind.  Brainard Lake is a popular snowshoe and x-country ski destination, and we finally saw some fellow hominids as we passed the lake on the way back.  Looking over the frozen lake, we see (from L to R) Pawnee Peak, Mt. Toll, Paiute Peak, and Audubon:

We bumbled around in the woods exploring and trying to avoid the throngs of people, before getting back on the closed section of road and heading back to the car.  Here we crossed the icy St. Vrain Creek while exploring:

Despite our failure, this was a good warmup for the next hike I had planned.  On the way to New Mexico for Christmas, Laura and I had planned on climbing Quandary Peak (one of the easier 14ers and therefore a good winter climb), and today's hike proved that it was definitely doable.  Unfortunately it snowed 15 inches in Boulder the day before we left for New Mexico, and there was no way we were leaving at 4am (as planned) and driving on bad roads through the mountains.  Oh well, next time.

Elk Hunting

Earlier this month I spent quite a few days "hunting elk."  Not hunting in the traditional sense, but the kind of 'hunting' the marmot hunter engages in.  Estes Park is one of the best places to view elk especially in the fall/winter/spring.  The elk come down from the high country, and can be seen in large herds and smaller groups throughout the valleys in the park.  Most people see elk from the road in their cars, sometimes at quite a distance with binoculars.  Very few go hiking in the woods and see them up close:

This little 'spike' was just about to cross the trail I was on.  While most of the meadows in RMNP are closed to human travel while the rut is going on, there are plenty of trails you can hike that go through prime elk habitat.  The young bull above was hanging out on the periphery of a harem.  There are usually a few smaller bulls that hang out this way, hoping to sneak in and get it on.  Usually the big bull chases them until they're a comfortable distance away, but there was no threat from this youngster.

I watched the large bull above chomp on grass and occasionally herd his harem.  Eventually the herd got too far away, and I decided to head back to my car.  It couldn't have been much more than 5 minutes later that I stumbled across another big bull with a harem:

Though he is one big wapiti, he's only a 6x5 as the last tine (point) on the right antler has broken off.  This seems to be fairly common, as I saw quite a few larger bulls with asymmetrical antlers.  I imagine they break when fighting for dominance, but they may also break when sharpening them in preparation for battle.  Plus, if you've ever seen a big bull walking through dense woods (as I have), you can imagine how they might break in other ways.

I don't know if this bull was just more confident than others I've seen, but he was completely disinterested in me.  He was mainly concerned with eating.  He looked over at his harem occasionally, but besides bugling a few times, he made no effort to chase off any of the smaller bulls, nor did he sniff at any of the cows or try to herd them in any way.  At one point he gave this smaller bull the ice grill, but then went back to chomping on grass:

I didn't see a single person hiking that day, but I saw a ton of elk.  Elk aren't the only animal you can find hiking the 'low' country trails.  A day earlier, I saw four coyotes crossing a meadow.  This one briefly posed for me:

With a little patience, you can usually find something.  Here's a mule deer buck I encountered in the woods:

But if you just want to see elk, forget the National Park and forget hiking, just drive around Estes Park.  The golf course is good place to start.  If you come up empty, just head to the ball fields:

The biggest bulls I've seen have been around town.  This guy was a legit 7-point bull and I found him at the softball fields.  He had an absolutely massive harem, plus a plethora of well-watered green grass to enjoy.

Now, you don't get the same experience of encountering them in the wild, but you definitely get an experience.  A man from Texas remarked to me, "you don't see this everyday," to which I responded, "you do if you live in Estes Park."  While the elk herds in town always attract a crowd (with all manner of idiots present), there are no prohibitions as to where you can go, how far away you have to be, etc.  One day I hope to see an elk deservedly attack someone.  Even without any goring, there is plenty of fascinating behavior to observe.

This bull had been chased off by the 7-point bull (a couple of photos back).  He wandered around the outside of the field for awhile until he found this convenient open gate.  I saw a distant cow hop the fence at one point, but this was definitely the easier route.

He walked over to this soccer goal post, where he watched his nemesis for a couple of minutes.

Once he determined the coast was clear, he wandered over to this cow and tried to sniff her butt.  She was very much uninterested and promptly walked away.  Maybe next year fella.

I couldn't resist one more picture of this bull.  He may be the largest I seen to date.  I can't imagine carrying around antlers like that, but I'm not an elk, so I guess I don't have to worry...  At one point a cow was standing on the pitchers mound, unfortunately I wasn't at the right angle to get a picture.  It's hard to catch all the action with these large herds, since they're spread out and you never know where to focus your attention.  After watching them for awhile, I finally packed it in and went home.  Another successful elk hunt.

Fall in the Rockies

Since we're about to be buried by the first major snowstorm of the season, I thought it would be good to look back on our first fall in Boulder.  To me, there are two things that define fall in the Rockies: aspens and the rut!!  My friend Larry from Brooklyn visited us at the beginning of the month, and got a little taste of both.  On our Tour de Colorado we passed this spectacular view of Lime Creek in the San Juan Mountains:

Aspens are basically the only deciduous tree at higher elevations here.  There are others trees that shed their leaves in Colorado, but once you get into the mountains, it's pretty much just aspens and conifers (evergreens).  Earlier that same day, we stopped to photograph this view of Engineer Mountain:

A few days later, I went to Caribou Ranch outside Nederland to photograph more aspens:

Aspens mostly turn a yellow/orange color, though you do see red ones occasionally.

Which brings me to the rut!!!  I think the elk rut is the most impressive of all the charismatic megafauna.  I'd also like to see bighorn sheep ramming (which would likewise be quite impressive), but so far have had no luck (and probably won't).  Male elk gather in the fall and compete to establish harems for breeding.  Only mature bulls (6-point or larger antlers) have a chance at snagging ladies.

Larry and I saw this bull in RMNP as he herded his harem across Trail Ridge Road.  I was surprised to see him this high (almost 12,000 ft), as elk usually retreat to the lower elevations for the rut.

One of the most exciting aspects is when males bugle to attract females and challenge other bulls.  It is one of the most distinct sounds in nature, and not what you'd expect from such a large animal.  "Get at me!"

Bulls also engage in antler wrestling to establish dominance.  These bulls below must have been practicing for next year:

They were only 5-point bulls, and didn't have any harem game.  At one point a similarly sized bull came over and seemed to be refereeing.

Elk behavior is fascinating.  This bull watched intently as the cow in the background chewed on what appeared to be a bone:

More commonly, a bull will go sniff the butt of a cow:

I believe this is to see if the female is in estrus.  Despite seeing some bulls with gigantic harems, I've yet to see any bull 'get lucky.'

Fall also brings one more change: substantial fresh snow at higher elevations.  This is Mt. Ypsilon in the Mummy Range:

There will be a lot more snow real soon!