Rocky Mountain National Park (June 8-12)

On the advice of a Colorado native, we took Highway 285 north from Great Sand Dunes towards our destination, Rocky Mountain National Park. The landscape was ridiculously beautiful, with mountains to the East and West. There was plenty of quirky on this route too: a UFO museum and alligator park stand out in memory. There were also a number of abandoned homesteads, which I could understand given the isolation one must endure in this part of the state. Alas, no photos (and believe me, I would like to kick myself for this).

We finally made it into Boulder around 4pm and made a stop at Whole Foods to refill our cooler before driving on to the park. We hadn't showered in a number of days at this point, and I felt like a feral animal skittering up and down the aisles with sensory overload. Craig, for his part, nearly teared up because grocery stores such as this do not exist in Macon. When we finally made it to our campsite (D Loop, Morraine Park Campground) we were treated to this view:



While we liked Great Sand Dunes, we loved Rocky Mountain. Both Craig and I had visited on previous trips (though separately), so we had high expectations for what the park could deliver. We weren't disappointed. On our first hike down into the valley below our campsite, we came across a very large black bear as he wandered below the tree line (again, no camera). On every other excursion, we nearly tripped on elk, there were so many. There were coyotes, wild turkey, golden mantled ground squirrels, marmots, chipmunks, and so, so many birds.

(As an aside: The last time I spent significant time in the west was for geology field school, and all of my attention was turned to rocks during those two summers. How could I have missed the wildlife?)

Both Craig and I had this feeling that RMNP would be our best stay. The campground was great. The kids were enjoying themselves. We felt happy. Then the wheels started to come off. While doing dishes, Craig sliced his middle finger badly on a kitchen knife. Being a trooper, he endeavored to finish washing the dishes while blood poured from his finger (umm, gross). When the girls and I stopped by the comfort station to see him, I may have shrieked (I certainly scared the kids more than necessary). He was quickly bandaged (and I finished the dishes and washed any remaining blood from the basin) and off he went to the Estes Park ER. Two hours and six stitches later he returned. The most unnerving part of the whole thing was his drive, in the dark, to the ER. I was far more worried about animals in the road than any stitches he might need.

Determined not to let the accident derail our plans, we set off the next day to hike up to Emerald Lake, and for many reasons (breathtaking views alone), we're happy we did. Grace has always been a great little hiker, and her grit showed on this trek. We started to see patchy snow early in our ascent, and by the time we reached the midway point we were spending more time crossing snow fields than on bare earth. While we watched adult after adult give up and head back down the mountain, our little mountain goat, dressed in tiny shorts and a t-shirt, marched her way to the top (Julia had the easiest summit, perched on her dad's back). Our efforts were worth it:



After a lunch in the sun, we headed back down the mountain because we had a surprise in store for the girls. It was waiting for us at a coffee shop in Loveland:



The next day we took a well-earned day of rest and, in retrospect, wish we hadn't. It turned out to be our last decent day in the park. That evening the rain started, followed by hail, and after 20 hours of constant moisture we broke camp and hightailed it to Wyoming. I actually cried when we left. Our time (even with stitches) had been amazing. However, forty degrees and raining doesn't make for happy kids. It could have been worse--at least it wasn't our wedding day:



Plain and simple: we didn't have enough time at Rocky Mountain. It's my only regret.

Here are the rest of the pictures.



Up next Wyoming