Mountain Hiking

Sandbeach Lake & Mt. Orton — Wild Surroundings In Wild Basin

The trail begins at the Wild Basin entrance station in RMNP. At first, there is a steep ascent by switchback up the rocky and dusty north valley wall. There are pines and aspens with dancing leaves, fallen branches and trunks with corkscrew-twisted roots, lichen-covered boulders, and long views to the south and high Meadow Mt. at the SE edge of the park. 

Once I attained this initial elevation, I continued more gradually up and steadily west, high above N. St. Vrain Creek. In the bottom of the valley, the creek shone, and Copeland Lake and many lesser ponds and expansions lay blue under a blue sky. 

I passed a trail intersection: 3.2 miles to Meeker Park. I heard sandy foot falls behind me and stepped to the side. A hiker passed — “Thank you.” He strode forward and then broke into a trot up a slope and around a curve in the trail. I’m afraid I cannot do that. 

About two miles in, I came alongside Campers Creek, a gurgly, mossy, intimate little flow. There was a one-foot waterfall into a three-foot pool and, along the bank, soft ecru toadstools on a carpet of moss. 

A little later, I crossed Hunters Creek, a broader, cobbly stream with a no-fishing warning. The threatened Greenback cutthroat trout has been reintroduced here, and, sure enough, just upstream of the bridge, I saw one. The stream parted around a five-foot boulder and poured into a deep pool. At the downstream edge of the pool, the fish hovered, periodically bobbed to the surface, swerved to one side and under a branch, then left that shelter and breached the surface. I could see no prey, but it was about noon and therefore lunchtime. Downstream, another trout sat in an eddy, among stones on one side and drifts of organic debris on the other. The water was only a few inches deep, and the fish were only a few inches long, but it looked as though a population was establishing itself. 

I climbed a final ridge, walked through open forest, and emerged onto the shores of the aptly named Sandbeach Lake. I found a shady spot with a big log as a backrest. To the south and in the distance rose St. Vrain and Copeland Mts. I settled down to a sandwich and a tomato, fresh from the garden.

Mt. Orton was not visible from the beach, but the map assured me that the peak was close, right over there. This is one of my problems. I come upon an intersection or reach a destination, and I wonder what is down that way, around that corner, or up that slope. So I took a heading to the west and a little north and started up through trackless fir forest. I maybe didn’t have to go this way, because there were lots of social trails that seemed to wander around the lake and even up the slopes, but I have been lured off my track many a time by human and animal trails that had no intention of going my way. I climbed west-northwest by compass.

The trees were close and intertwined. I climbed over and under fallen logs. Forest gave way to fields of car- and shed-size boulders. I climbed into trees again and the hot smell of fir. I’d strayed a little too far to the north, so I adjusted and clambered among more rocks. To the north rose the imposing mass of Mt. Meeker, the distinctive flat top of Longs Peak, and the steep, sharp pyramid of Pagoda Mt. I reached the tree line and hollows full of low, almost impenetrable krummholz.

Mt. Orton in the distance

Pagoda Mt. and Longs Peak

There were boulder fields, talus slopes, and stretches of green tundra. About 3:30 p.m., I reached the final rock tower and climbed to the top. There was a pretty hogback ridge off to the northwest, reaching over to Chiefs Head Peak. Pagoda, Longs, and Meeker still dominated the northern skyline. 

From the top of Mt. Orton, looking northwest toward Chiefs Head. The contours in the high point at the upper right look like a fact in repose (from some vantage points).

An evening view to the northwest from the highway at the Allenspark fire station. The chief is lying on his back. At the left is his face, looking upward. To the right, is the rise of his belly (Mt. Meeker). (click for a larger view)

Sandbeach Lake is a satisfying destination, but just a little more heroic or maybe masochistic motivation can bring still more thrilling rewards.

Originally published in the
Daily Camera, p 8C, 10/5/2007.