Mountain Hiking

Long Lake 

In July and August, the high country just west of Boulder hasn’t long been free of snow, and the “spring” wildflowers are as abundant as in any garden.  My mother and I recently crossed the footbridge at the outlet of the lake and slowly walked along the Jean Lunnings Trail.  We didn’t stride out; we couldn’t hurry.  Right away, we began to cross meadows of bright white Bistort, Yarrow with softer white petals and a yellow center, and a wonderful variety of Indian Paintbrush that ranged from salmon through peach and coral, all the way to magenta.  We found a little cluster of Arctic Gentian, each bloom an upward-facing five-lobed bell of pale green with dark speckles sprinkled down its throat. 

Then we came to the Elephanthead, surely one of the most whimsical flowers of all creation.  The bloom stalk is columnar and a soft lavender, but look closely.  That stalk is carrying 20 or 30 blossoms, and each looks for all the world like an elephant’s head.  The rounded forehead is there, with its triangle of purple, much like the little drape that a circus elephant might wear.  There is the hint of two dark eyes, and soft floppy ears hang at the sides.  A long trunk curls down from that face with an extra curl at the tip, as though he has just picked up a peanut.  It couldn’t be a better replica—the plant kingdom making a little fun of the animal.

The trip to Long Lake is not a hard one.  We drove up Left Hand Canyon to the town of Ward.  In a way, this Saturday morning drive was as colorful as the flower walk, as we wove among dozens of bike riders in their bright Spiderman costumes.  We turned north on the Peak-to-Peak and then west into the Brainard Lake Recreation Area and up to the Long Lake Trailhead.  The walk to Long Lake is only 1/4 mile through fragrant fir forest, and the stroll along the southern shore into the gardens of flowers is only 1/4 mile more.  The trails are mostly wide and level, and smooth boardwalk had been laid down over damp or marshy areas.

If we had had more time, the Pawnee Pass Trail would have taken us up to Lake Isabelle, or an unmarked side trail would have taken us onto Niwot Ridge to the south.  At these higher elevations, the season will be less advanced, and still-earlier blooms will be at their peak.

Of course, the flowers were not the only wonders.  The lake was blue and a soft breeze rippled its surface.  Jays, robins, and juncos called or chirped and darted from bush to tree.  The mountains reached up with a rugged power, and soft white clouds drifted over the blue sky.  The air was 10º cooler than in Boulder.  And whenever we thought that a little rest and contemplation was in order, there would be a convenient log or a hassock-size rounded rock to sit upon. 

One couple asked me to take their picture, as they knelt together in the midst of hundreds of blossoms.  Mom commented that everyone was unusually relaxed and friendly as they passed on the trails.  They smiled, said good morning, and commented on the views in every direction and on the beauty of the day.  Clearly, we all were feeling pleased to be away from our usual obligations and rush.

Originally published in the
50 Plus Marketplace News, 12:4, 9/2006.