Weather: warm and sunny, windy at altitude
50 miles
I was up at 8.15, and for the first time in several days had no need to head out for breakfast, as free juice and ``donuts'' were included in the price of the room. I then checked out and drove the short distance up the road to the park entrance.
Almost immediately I took a slight detour, onto a side road leading to the ``historic'' Grand Lake Lodge, an imposing and no doubt somewhat exclusive timber building on the hill overlooking the lake and the town. I sneaked into the gardens to admire the view, past a row of immaculately-polished vintage cars.
I next made a stop at the Kawuneeche visitor centre to pick up some park information, then continued up the main road, known as Trail Ridge Road. For the moment the ascent was gentle, as he road followed alongside the valley of the Colorado River. I parked at a trailhead to walk the short distance through the forest to the river. Here it was little more than a gently-flowing stream, far from being the mighty river responsible for the awe-inspiring Grand Canyon and other features.
I returned to the car to continue the ascent. About a mile further on, the road left the valley and began a steep climb in a series of switchback corners. I passed a sign telling me I was now two miles above sea level. Soon after, the gradients lessened as I entered Milner Pass, my passage across the Continental Divide. Large signs and a parking lot marked the divide, and this time I obtained a photograph successfully.
Despite having crossed the continental divide, the road continued to climb, onto a mountain ridge above the glacial Poudre River valley. The views were absolutely spectacular, especially on the hairpin bend of Medicine Bow Curve, where I pulled into a layby for a better look.
Just around the next corner was the Alpine Visitor Center, where I parked and set out on a trail up the mountainside. This took me to summit offering panoramic views. A sign there informed me that I was standing at an altitude of 12005ft (3659m), ``higher than Oregon's famed Mount Hood'' (and incidentally only about 200ft higher than the parking lot). Personally I considered my first venture on land above 12000ft was more significant than whether or not I was higher than some summit of which I had previously been unaware. After admiring the views, I descended to the visitor centre, following strict instructions not to stray off the path, in order to protect the very delicate tundral environment of such altitudes (supposedly similar to that of the sub-Arctic lands of northern Canada).
I had a look around the visitor centre, then went into the shop next door to get a hot dog lunch. Afterwards I had a look around the souvenirs on offer, finding a rather good cuddly mallard duck toy which made supposedly ``authentic'' noises when squeezed, which I thought would amuse a certain person back home.
Progress was slow along the next stretch of road, owing to the constant need to stop and admire the views into the deep valleys on both sides. The road reaches a maximum altitude of 12183ft (3713m), making it supposedly the highest paved through road in the USA. Along the way I encountered a handful of cyclists, obviously supremely fit to be able to cope with the ascent and ride at such dizzying altitudes.
I stopped at the foot of the Tundra Trail, which led out for maybe a quarter of a mile from the road, allowing one to see (but not touch) this remarkable environment. Despite the cold temperatures and strong winds (bad enough even at this time of year), plenty of vegetation can survive, albeit very slow-growing and remaining very close to the ground. Tiny flowers grew no more than half an inch above the soil, while some wildlife was in evidence: I spotted a hairy caterpillar, a marmot and a squirrel -- presumably a ground squirrel, since the tree-line lay some considerable distance below.
The path rose slowly to a group of rocks, onto which I climbed for a better view, despite a fearsome wind as I made myself more exposed. At the top was a marker, with a map of the park, also directions and distances to numerous other national park sites. The plaque also showed my altitude, 12304ft (3750m). This would be as high as I would get. I descended to the relative shelter behind the rocks, spent some time watching a rather nervous marmot, and then returned to the car for the descent.
This was just as impressive, with further overlooks into forested canyons over streams and lakes, and across to the highest peaks of the park, some over 14000ft. I hit the tree-line, marked by ``krummholz'' -- trees making their best efforts to survive in the harshest environments they can endure, forming bizarre twisted shapes in the process.
I stopped at the Beaver Meadows visitor centre, back at modest altitudes near the park's eastern entrance, and spent a while looking around before heading off into the town of Estes Park in search of somewhere to stay the night. I picked a Super 8 motel, which according to my guide generally had quite reasonable rates, but turned out to be somewhat more expensive, apparently owing to a large convention in town. I decided to stay there anyway rather than trying other places on the offchance. The motel was built on a steep slope, necessitating a little care while parking and a struggle to lift my case up to the room.
I took advantage of the motel's pool and hot tub for a little relaxation, then watched a little TV, catching up on the latest on the Colorado wildfires. Current concerns were over a huge fire in the Pike National Forest, advancing to the outermost suburbs of southwestern Denver (it later turned out to have been started by a ranger carelessly burning letters from her ex-husband). At one point I had been considering a visit to Pike's Peak, a famous mountain in the area, but this was evidently not wise.
I walked into the town centre for dinner, choosing an Italian place named ``Mamma Rosa's'', alongside the Big Thompson River. I had a reasonable meal of salad, garlic bread and basil pesto chicken, but was less than impressed with the service. Afterwards I returned to the motel, considered my plans for my last day of sightseeing, and went to bed.