Colorado Trail Segment 1: An Earth Day Stroll

I thru-hiked the Colorado Trail during the summer of 2015 and since then, I've thought about the Trail at least once per day. Images of rugged landscapes, meadows full of wildflowers, and beautiful vistas will suddenly pop in my head, or I will remember conversations I had with other hikers or certain meals I had in town (if you're ever in Lake City, go to the San Juan Soda Company for ice cream). Many times, I've daydreamed about hiking the Trail again, but I have a job now (a job I like, might I add), so I will have to settle for segment hiking on the weekends and the occasional week-long hike, as I approach the southern terminus of the CT.

Beth posing for an obligatory photo at the beginning of segment 1

Segment hiking has both disadvantages and advantages. For me, the biggest advantage of segment hiking is that I get to carry far less weight when I am only hiking for 1-2 day stretches. When I was thru-hiking, there were days when my backpack weighed in at 43 lbs. This was when I had to carry 8 days worth of food; Also, when reliable water sources were few and far between (e.g. the Cochetopa Hills), I filled my 3-liter bladder to capacity and water is heavy. Adding to the weight was my 0F-rated, 4 lb. sleeping bag, because I sleep cold. By the time I arrived in Salida, my body hurt from carrying all of this weight whilst hiking 16-20 mile days: my feet were blistered and chafed and my hips were also chafed where my backpack strap rubbed. My hips would scab over at night, but as soon as I put my backpack on, the hip straps would reopen the wounds and the pain was excruciating. Thankfully my body finally did get used to carrying the weight after I had hiked 250 miles or so. In comparison, segment hiking feels like ultra-light hiking. What's more is that after packing a day's worth of supplies in my backpack, I still have room and weight to spare for my SLR camera, a notebook, and all kinds of delicious, weighty snacks.

But I will miss the simplicity that goes with hiking for a solid month and carrying everything I need on my back. During my month on the Trail, my full-time job was to hike and I often started before the sun was fully up and finished around 7 or 7:30 p.m. The short evenings were spent setting up camp, eating dinner, doing camp chores including filtering water and hanging food, and strategizing where we would obtain water the next day, how we would avoid high passes during afternoon thunderstorms, and locating places to camp the next night. Mornings included breaking down camp, sometimes eating breakfast (I often saved breakfast for an hour into the hike, after I had warmed up a bit), and hitting the trail. After that my job was to stay hydrated and well-nourished, so that I could enjoy the constant slideshow of some of the best scenery in the Southern Rockies and in the world.

Chokecherries in peak bloom

On Sunday, April 22nd, nearly three years after completing my CT thru-hike, I re-hiked segment 1. I had convinced my friend Beth to join me, which wasn't difficult; A friend of the best sort, Beth is usually game for pretty much anything hiking- or backpacking-related and puts up with my incessant photographing of flora and geology. She is also a very good conversationalist and regales me with hilarious or harrowing stories, which makes the time pass.

We agreed to meet at the Safeway Starbucks in Conifer at 5 a.m., where she would follow me in her car to the parking lot at the Gudy Gaskill Bridge, the end of segment 1. We would leave her car there. Then we would drive my car to Waterton Canyon, the beginning of segment 1, where we would start our hike. I left my house at 4 a.m., allowing myself plenty of time to get to Conifer by 5. The brights on my 1998 Honda had long since stopped working, so I figured I would be creeping along 285 at grandmotherly speeds. We both arrived on time and were soon on Foxton Road, bound for the very scenic N Platte River Road/Road 97. Somewhere along this stretch my headlights illuminated the eyes of a nighthawk sitting in the middle of the road and it quickly took flight. We arrived at the trailhead parking lot, just as the first twilight started to illuminate the lingering fog, jumped into my car, retraced part of our drive, and by 7 a.m. we had reached the Waterton Canyon parking lot (elevation 5,522 feet). By 7:15 a.m., we were hiking. Everything was going as planned.

Waterton Canyon, which is maintained by Denver Water, is a popular walking, running, and mountain biking destination. Fortunately, we had gotten an early start and only saw a handful of other people along the 6.7 mile road to Strontia Springs Dam. Signs of spring were beginning to appear in the Canyon. Chokecherries (Prunus virginiana) and squaw currants (Ribes cereum) were in full bloom and the sweet scent of flowers hung in the air. Some trees and shrubs were beginning to leaf out as well.

A chokecherry festival was taking place on the hillsides of the Canyon

The road to Strontia Springs Dam wanders through 1.7 billion year old metamorphic rocks, rocks that were uplifted during the Laramide Orogeny which began approximately 70-80 million years ago and ended 25-35 mya.

In addition to being geologically interesting, Waterton Canyon is also an excellent place to spot wildlife. If you're a birder, look for canyon wrens, spotted towhees, stellar's jays, belted kingfishers, osprey, red-tailed hawks, American kestrels, and Townsend's solitaires. There have also been reports of black bears, mountain lions, and bobcats. I often see deer grazing the hillsides and it is a rare day when I do not encounter at least one herd of bighorn sheep. Historically, bighorn sheep, Colorado's state mammal, were commonly found in the foothills and even on the plains. However, due to human encroachment, populations of this majestic mammal have shifted to higher elevations (often near treeline) and away from human settlements. Thus, this particular population is unusual given its proximity to the mile-high city. In the 80s, the Strontia Springs Dam was constructed, which negatively impacted the herd. To make matters worse, these animals are susceptible to pneumonia and lungworm, which may be related to "the stress of human pressure," according to the Colorado Trail Book. Several autumns ago, I was fortunate to observe several males rutting high up on the rocky cliffs. They charged toward each other, their horns colliding; the crashing of horns reverberated throughout the Canyon. I've often seen runners and bikers take selfies with these charismatic animals, which is not advised.

A few photos of the South Platte River:

More river photos

Strontia Springs Dam is located 0.2 miles before the automobile road ends and where the single-track begins. I have often seen water gushing from the above 3 slots. Unfortunately, winter did not visit Colorado this year and the snow pack is low. Consequently the reservoirs are also low and the risk for wildfires is high.

I had already mentally divided the hike into two sections: the Waterton Canyon road, which is so easy it doesn't really count as hiking, right? and the totally doable 10.2-mile stretch beginning where the single-track trail starts. This helped me get over the fact that I would be doing an almost 17-mile hike after several weeks of being sedentary (thanks to a bad sinus infection and a dental procedure).

Once on the single-track trail, we quickly left civilization behind us. There were a few mountain bikers and the occasional runner, but for the most part this section was pretty quiet. The trail switchbacked through a north-facing ponderosa pine/Douglas-fir forest, which was carpeted with green grasses and sedges and had a welcoming feel. The dripping of melting snow from yesterday's snowstorm made the experience even more pleasant and I was reminded of the temperate rainforests of the Pacific Northwest.

Soon we entered a sunnier and drier south-facing slope and the flora changed to Gambel oak, mountain mahogany, and the occasional juniper.

At mile 7.9 we passed Lenny's Rest, a bench with a plaque that honors the Eagle Scout Leonard Southwell, who passed away in a hiking accident when he was 18. The bench was installed by his younger brother and is maintained by the boy scouts.

I was on the lookout for wildflowers. Depending on the year, peak wildflower season in the foothills occurs mid- to late May, so we were on the early side. However, I did see some of the usual early suspects including sand lily (Leucocrinum montanum), milk vetch (Astragalus sp.), Rocky Mountain spring beauty (Claytonia rosea), maiden blue-eyed Mary (Collinsia parviflora), Nuttall's larkspur (Delphinium nuttalianum), and an unknown species of bladder-pod (Physaria sp.) that I should have photographed.

Soon, the trail descended into the riparian habitat of the Bear Creek drainage. I photographed some bryophytes. I got a little carried away. The first photo is of some kind of pelt lichen -- perhaps freckle pelt lichen (Peltigera aphthosa). I need to make friends with a lichenologist. The photo on the right is a bright-colored moss, species unknown.

Here is a mosaic of moss on metamorphic rock that I felt compelled to photograph.

Bark-dwelling lichens and a beautiful coral-like fruticose lichen:

The photo above is of a Douglas-fir tree. Obviously. The lichen below just looked cool, so I had to photograph them.

Above: common alumroot (Heuchera parvifolia), moss, and lichens growing on ancient rock.

Below: a fairy garden of Heuchera parvifolia (common alumroot), Micranthes rhomboidea (diamond-leaf saxifrage), Cystoperus fragilis (brittle bladderfern, and several species of mosses and lichens.

While hiking through the canyon, my mind couldn't help but wander to my 2015 hike. That was a year of abundant precipitation and it monsooned until the day before we started our hike on July 9th. I remember noticing how lush and verdant the foliage was that year. This year, things seemed dry.

We had lunch at an established campground, which we assumed to be the high point of the trail. Turns out, the high point was probably still to come, but we didn't have the CT app. At some point we reached mile 12.6, the high point of the trail (7,517 ft)., after which, we followed a ridge for several miles through a forest. Occasionally a window through the pines would open up.

Looking towards the Lost Creek Wilderness Area

A bonsai-ed ponderosa pine (Pinus ponderosa) somehow making a living growing out of a crack in metaphoric rock.

A view of the Southern Rockies

This view offers a preview of segment 2 of the Colorado Trail. Much of this segment burned in the human-induced 1996 wildfire.

One of the many Pike's Peak granite rock outcroppings along this section of the trail.

The picture below was taken right before the trail begins its descent to the South Platte River, and the end of Segment 1.

At some point the forest thinned and we had a view of the parking lot and Beth's car. We'll be down in no time, I mused. I was wrong. The 4.2 miles of switchbacks took longer than I remembered.

A few more early wildflowers appeared alongside the trail: There were clumps of pennycress (Noccaea fendleri) which looked like patches of persistent snow from a distance (left). The beloved pasqueflower (Anemone patens var. multifida) was also growing here and there.

Here's a photo looking up at where we were a few minutes ago. We were finally getting close to our destination.

At 4 p.m. we reached the Gudy Gaskill bridge (6,117 ft) and the end of segment 1. It dawned on me that it was Earth Day. What a perfect way to celebrate this beautiful planet that I call home. Hoping to do segments 2 and 3 in May, so stay tuned.