Following in Dad's Footsteps: Bagging a Colorado 14'er

Have you ever been shocked at learning something about one of your parents that completely surprised you? Something you could never have imagined them having done? Decades after my father's death, I was astonished when I discovered some black and white photos from the 1930s that revealed a side of my father that I never would have imagined, something that he had never talked about. 

In the late 1930s, my dad visited his cousin Jake Jauch in Colorado where Jake was a U.S. Forest Ranger stationed in what is now the Uncompahgre Wilderness Area.  Before that, it had been called the Big Blue Wilderness because it encompassed the Big Blue River watershed. Of course, in the 1930s there were no designated wilderness areas yet, so it was simply the Uncompahgre National Forest, located five miles northwest of the quaint Colorado town of Lake City and ten miles east of Ouray, with elevations ranging from 8400 feet to 14,309 feet.  Uncompahgre, a name given by the Ute Indians, has been translated variously as "red water spring" and "hot water." In fact, a public hot springs pool still exists in Ouray.  The area is also known as the "Switzerland of America," and several decades ago, my family hosted a foreign exchange student, Luca, from Carpi, Italy, which is in the extreme northern part of Italy near Switzerland. Luca, upon seeing this area of Colorado, remarked that it did indeed resemble the Alps of Switzerland.

Uncompahgre Peak (14,309 feet) is seen in the photo below with its unusual broad, flat, slightly tilted summit which falls away almost vertically on three sides as much as 1500 feet, a landmark visible from far away. 

Its fourth side slopes gently and is inviting to many hikers, and views from atop Uncompahgre Peak display a vast wilderness of towering rock castles and sweeping ridges that form some of the finest scenery in the state as seen in these photos I took from the top and featuring the nearby predominant peaks of Wetterhorn (14,015 feet) and Matterhorn (13,546.)  These two Swiss names recount the area's "Switzerland of America" nickname.

The views in every direction are outstanding!

The Big Blue River Valley seen below runs about 11 miles from the ranger cabin where the road ends to the trail that summits the peak which takes you another 6 miles to the top. It is a magnificent backpack trip through an amazingly beautiful valley!

Back to my story about Dad's visit in the 1930s. Jake and his wife, Elma, lived in this Forest Service cabin and horse barn...

... on the banks of the Big Blue River. These two photos are from 1993 when I backpacked here...

...and this 1930s photo was when Jake and Elma lived here. You can see nothing has changed except the home (guard station) was no longer occupied in 1993.

Jake told me all of this information when I and my young sons visited him and Elma decades after his retirement. At that time he encouraged me to backpack the valley and ascend the peak and gave me a map to reach the cabin which is where the road ends and the trail begins. We drove that road and camped at the campground adjacent to the cabin.  My younger son was affected by the altitude during the night, but though he felt better in the morning, we didn't want to risk backpacking with him at this altitude. Instead we hiked a few miles to beautiful Slide Lake, so named because a landslide had formed it (Jake obviously had a wealth of info about the area!)...

...where we had lunch and then returned to the car and left.  But I knew I had to come back soon and go for the peak.

Here's Uncle Jake with my young sons when we visited him in Salida in the 1970s after he had retired.

Below is a photo of Dad and Jake at our house in Chicago back in the 1960s.  Jake had me drive him all through the neighborhood so he could see all his old haunts from when he grew up in Chicago before college and his subsequent forestry career. He proudly told me how his brother had worked and put him through college, and after Jake graduated and began working, he put his brother through college. His brother, Max, still lived in the old neighborhood.

Back to the 1930s now. Jake took Dad to the top of Uncompahgre Peak on horseback. I'm not sure how far the horses were able to go back then, but the trail to the top back then was probably still solid ground.  Here's a shot of Dad and Jake as they began their trip from the cabin. As the local ranger, one of Jake's jobs was to go the the top and change out the sign-in sheets signed by those who had scaled the peak.  All 54 of Colorado's 14'ers (peaks of 14,000 feet or more altitude) have cylindrical metal tubes with forms inside for visitors to sign when they achieve the summit.  The entire top of this mountain is now friable so all visitors have to hike to the top -- there is no way to climb the sides due to the disintegrating rock. I wonder if Dad signed the sheet since he was up there? Len and I did!

Going up on horseback wasn't possible in 1993 when I backpacked here because the upper 1/2 mile of the peak trail was all loose rock that had broken apart as seen in this photo as we scrambled up the talus slope. Here's Len relaxing on the loose rock...

...and here I'm nearing the top. You can see how horses wouldn't be able to reach the summit nowadays.

Approaching the peak!

A teenage girl and her parents were also at the peak and they took our photo. I was shocked when the girl took out a cell phone (remember, this was 1993) and she got a signal! Her dad told us they lived nearby and came up here every year, and the only way to get their daughter to join them was to bring the phone!

I'm not sure what month my dad rode there with Jake, but obviously there was still snow in the higher elevations.

Dad never took me fishing, but obviously Uncle Jake took Dad fishing! Easy since their cabin was built along the bank of the Big Blue River and obviously fishing was very good back then...

I wonder if Aunt Elma also fished or just posed for the photo.

Here are a couple more photos from Dad's trip...

And here's proof that Uncle Jake was still fishing in 1970 when we visited...

More photos of my backpacking trip in this idyllic locale can be found here.

How My Love for Backpacking, Mountain Biking, and Paddling Began

Our family vacation in 1987 was to Steamboat Springs, Colorado, a trip that not only returned me to my beloved Colorado Rockies but also introduced me to backpacking, whitewater rafting, and mountain biking, activities that have dominated my outdoor life for the last three decades.  I had never heard of the Routt National Forest, but I fell in love with it on a scenic15 mile day hike from Rabbit Ears Pass, along the Continental Divide Trail, and then down to Fish Creek Falls. 

On this hike, I noticed numerous obvious campsites along the trail, triggering the urge to learn to backpack which we did as a family two years later after outfitting our family of four with the necessary gear. I have subsequently done over 60 backpack trips, some with friends, some with my sons, and many solo, as I've explored over 50 wilderness areas across the country, including a return to the Routt with a 1990 backpack here in its Mt. Zirkel Wilderness.

The next day in 1987, we rented mountain bikes at a local outdoor shop, and after asking the store clerk if there was a place to ride in the national forest, he said yes, there was a very nice but strenuous 20 mile bike loop available.  He told us to bike over to the gravel Buffalo Road and head up it. We had to walk the bikes in a couple of really steep sections, but all three of us, my wife, 15 year old son, and I, were all runners and in good shape. The views looking back at the town far below us were awesome. My 10 year old son was not old enough for this experimental ride.

The clerk had told us to watch for a particular set of landmarks, and when we saw them, we then spotted the narrow trail that headed back down the mountain to the town. This was Spring Creek Trail which we began biking down, and on which we had an amazing adventure!  Here's my 15 year old son...

As I look at these 30+ year-old photos now, I'm chagrined that we didn't have helmets on. All our biking around home had been on residential streets, and helmets were not in vogue back then so the thought had never entered my mind when we rented the bikes. And the fact that the clerk didn't supply them or even mention them indicates to me that the times were very different back in 1987. Nowadays I would never bike without a helmet! Below is a photo of me coming down the Spring Creek Trail in my Cubs hat...

Biking through creeks was new to us, of course, but didn't deter us -- just added to the fun of this new experience.

This stimulated my desire to do more such biking, and a few years later, I bought my first mountain bike, a Specialized Hard Rock, which replaced my 15 year old Sears Deluxe Varsity bike. Then in 2008 I began riding a Trek mountain bike.

We had Deer Grove Forest Preserve just three miles from our house, and one of my regular local biking routes travelled the residential street that paralleled the forest preserve for a mile. Then one day, with my new mountain bike which I was still getting used to, I ventured into the forest for a mile, but when the dirt trail turned south, I went back out to the road and continued my usual route.  

The joy I’d experienced in the woods for that brief section remained with me all day and night, so the next day I biked that route once more, veered into the woods again, and was so captivated by the forest ride that I made the turn south and biked the entire six mile loop that followed the perimeter of the preserve.  And I was hooked!

The trail had constant twists and turns and was replete with rocks and roots and ruts, and in the western section of the preserve it was like a roller coaster with up and down hills and constant blind turns, providing a challenging workout, wondrous scenery, and wildlife sightings. I was so enthralled that I then shunned my normal street rides and solely biked in the woods. Twice I nearly hit deer that were blocking the trail as they browsed the bushes as I came around blind turns. 

But it still wasn’t enough. The preserve continued on the east side of Quentin Road which ran through its center.  I was familiar with the woods over there because I had devised my high school's home cross country course there (I was one of the coaches) so I biked over there and explored the east side’s four miles of dirt single track. I loved it too, and added it to my biking route, thus making a 16 mile route which I biked many dozens of times over the next 30 years, and even though I've moved into my retirement townhouse 30 minutes away (which is right next to another preserve) I still return to my old favorite loop trail many times each year. I've since replaced the Hard Rock with a Trek mountain bike, but I still have the old bike for friends who wish to join me on a ride.

On that 1987 vacation, we also did a white water raft trip. Here we are in the front of the raft enjoying the thrills! 

This raft trip inspired me to try canoeing, kayaking, and a lot more whitewater rafting. And since I love camping, many of my paddling adventures, be they via canoe, kayak, or raft, are multi-day trips where we camp on the shore each night, often in tents but sometimes just under the stars.

Though I'm 75 now, I biked 2700 miles this year. In 1999, I began a spreadsheet to log my biking, hiking, and paddling mileage, and now after 22 years my mileage totals are 44,699 for biking, 14,555 for hiking, and  2077 for paddling, and though I'm slowing down a bit as I age, I hope to keep adding to those totals in coming years. I have photos and info for all of my outdoor adventures listed in the sidebar at the top right of this page.

Colorado's Hanging Lake

Most beautiful Places #29

This popular hiking destination is in Glenwood Canyon, seven miles east of the town of Glenwood Springs. To prevent it being "loved to death" by the abundance of visitors, strict visitation rules have been implemented since 2019, and I'm glad I'd hiked the trail numerous times before access became so regulated.  Now, a paid permit and a reservation time are required to access the trailhead to the lake (fees vary by season) and visitation is limited. More info is available here.  In 2011 it was named a National Natural Landmark. Parking is restricted and even those who bike the Glenwood Canyon Bike Trail to reach the trailhead must pay the $12 hiking fee and have a reservation.  The trail is now only available to hike from May 1st to October 31st.

The property and former homestead were purchased by Glenwood Springs in 1910 and during the 1940s this was home to a resort and cafe until I-70 construction began in the 1960s. This was the final section of the Interstate System to be constructed due to the complexity of building it,  and it has been hailed as an engineering marvel because of the care taken to incorporate the interstate into the fragile canyon environment while leaving as much of the flora and fauna intact as possible.  

Construction included three tunnels, 15 miles of retaining walls, and a  number of cantilever structures The project required 30 million pounds of structural steel, 30 million pounds of reinforcing steel, and 400,000 cubic yards of concrete weighing 1.62 billion pounds. The popular Hanging Lake area was protected by taking the highway across the river on these long spans that disappear into two 4000 foot long tunnels seen below. The railroad tracks, which are mainly across the river from I-70, can be seen beneath the tunnels after the road crosses the Colorado River.  After exiting the tunnels, other road spans return the road to the other side.

Below are photos showing other "solutions" used in narrow sections of the roadway. Construction finished in 1992. Landscaping contracts were awarded to two companies, each doing half the canyon's length.

The Hanging Lake Trail is considered a rugged backcountry trail which runs 1.2 miles up Dead Horse Gulch, gaining 1000 feet in elevation to reach the travertine lake whose turquoise colors are produced by carbonate minerals that have dissolved in the water. The lake is located on a fault line and was created when a nearly two acre section of the valley floor sheered off and dropped down to what is now the shallow lake.

Some sections are rock scrambling...

...and steeper sections have stone stairs and even railings...

The strenuous climb is well worth your effort!

Once at the lake, make sure you follow this sign taking you a bit higher up to Spouting Rock...

Visitors are now prohibited from walking on the logs, but no such rule existed 15 years ago...

Below are a few photos to show how the bike trail was integrated into the road's construction...