High Mountain Lakes: Not all wilderness trips are extended journeys

The wilderness boundary sign was aptly nailed into a huge spruce tree, part of a grove of ancient trees that pre-date the country on its 250th anniversary.

Considering the number of wildfires that have scorched the surrounding landscapes and the diseases that often beset spruce, the grove is a remarkable story of resiliency.

When we started the hike one of its brethren wasn’t as lucky. Not far from the trailhead we ducked under a massive spruce that had fallen and brought down several trees with it.

It was way too big for my handsaw, though we did clear out a few smaller trees en route to a high mountain lake I haven’t been to in 10 years, maybe more.

The idea was to get to scenic spot before the heavens opened up and dumped down on us on Saturday. There were threatening clouds billowing up all around as we headed up the trail, which has seen way more use than it did when I hiked it years ago. Back then, parts of it disappeared altogether. Today, it was clear as a bell and much steeper than I remember it.

The trail was brushy but in pretty good shape otherwise as we wound up the drainage. The last quarter-mile or so was a steep pitch straight up to the basin that held the lake, which was still partially frozen over.

We didn’t stay long. The dog loved the snow, but it couldn’t have been much warmer than 40 up there with a stiff breeze.

The dog raced around in the snowfield at the base of the lake as the skies bore down on us. We headed down quickly but not before it began to pour.

The hike down went quickly and the sun was shining by the time we made it to the truck. The real rain wouldn’t come for another 24 hours.

Still, we were pretty much soaked to the skin from the waist down. Steam rose from the forest as we loaded up and headed home.