Saturday, October 24, 2026

There are no bears in the sky: National Parks Trip, days 12 and 13

I woke up on the day we left Estes feeling nauseous as all get out. Derek packed the ar so I could stay in bed until the very last minute, but I felt super sick to my stomach. I downplayed it in the hopes I would start to believe I actually felt ok, but blerg. I felt yucky. 

Our drive to Kansas City was 9 hours of not a whole lot. I napped on and off, took Zofran to calm my tummy down, and basically minded my own business until we got close enough to Kansas City for me to order our ramen from KC Craft. The plan had been for Derek and I to have a nice sit down together, but we left later than intended because I didn't feel well, and I also forgot to include the time change when factoring our arrival time, so it was almost closing time by the time we got in. Derek picked up our order and we went to the hotel. 

We stayed at a Baymont this time, and this Baymont was like, a retrofitted old inn that looked like a ship got turned into an auditorium. We hadn't been in our room for fifteen minutes when the power went out at the hotel. Not just our room, the entire hotel went dark. Interesting. That's never happened before. It was maybe five minutes of the hotel being dark when the power came back on. It didn't bother Derek and I in the least, this sort of thing happens. Derek did make a joke about complaining to the desk to see if we could get a discount like we got at Grant Village for the lack of wifi (they gave us a 150 dollar refund), but I told him I bet they would, but I wasn't terribly pressed about it, and if the power went off AGAIN I would contact the hotel directly and just ask for a discount code for my next stay or something. The power remained on, and I begrudgingly ate my ramen and moaned about being too gross feeling to enjoy it. 

As pathetic as I felt. 

I was pretty tired of being awake, and as great as trips are, the end of them really calls attention to how busy you've been and how warn out you are. We had a wonderful time, but I was ready to be home. 

I woke up the next day feeling better, but only by about half. I still felt greasy and icky, but no longer like I was going to hurl, so an improvement is an improvement. I either caught a mild bug or I got mild food poisoning from my warm slop. 

I investigated the hotel room a little bit and commented that the decor looked like it was made from discarded bridesmaids dresses from David's Bridal circa 2007. 



The art on the walls wasn't exactly museum quality, either. 


Are they abstract? Impressionist? Just plain awful? Yes. Yes all of it. 

Now initially, Derek and I talked about driving a few hours out of our way to stop in St. Louis and go to Gateway Arch National Park, closing out our National Parks Trip with the worst national park on the registry. However, I still wasn't feeling well, Derek and I were both exhausted with aching backs, and we just wanted to be home and rested and no longer traveling. 

So home we went, jiggity jig. The drive is only about 3.5 hours, though driving through KC is a maddening exercise that feels like it adds years to your day. And that is it. We were home. 

Since it looks like we're stuck here through 2028, I am trying to plan two mini trips to strike another few National Parks trips off of our list. We're within short driving distance of Hot Springs National Park, Indiana Dunes (we've been there before, but gotta get those stamps, baby!), and Cuyahoga National Park. We're a little further, but not unbearably so, from the Great Smoky Mountains. We're also a two day drive from my dad, where we could knock out the Everglades, Key Biscayne, and Dry Tortugas if we're feeling extra saucy and feel like flying there. We were aggravatingly close to Wind Cave National Park, it's only two hours from Badlands, and we're currently discussing heading back out there for Derek's birthday so we can properly rockhound in Weta (and possibly Omaha). 

I'm angling to head up to St. Louis this upcoming Friday for my bi-weekly Costco run so I can finally get us our stamps from the Arch. Fingers crossed!

Anyway, that's it. That's the trip. The last entry I'm going to do for this trip is going to conglomerate every single day with its photos. Which are upsettingly bad. I had a wonderful time, and seeing everything was incredible, but I am disappointed in my photos. Yeesh. 

Wait wait! Edited to add!

I forgot to put pictures of our local boozes. 

That Absaroka Gin is so delicious. We bought four bottles. We haven't tried the Grand Teton Potato Vodka, but I'm sure it's...nice? 

Derek has mentioned several times that he's very curious about this rum, and every time he says that I tell him I am very NOT curious about this rum. He hasn't opened it yet, but I DO want to use those glasses. They're so cute!

There are no bears in the sky: National Parks Trip, day 11

This is probably our earliest morning of the entire trip. Sunrise was at 7:26, which meant we needed to be at our chosen locations by 6:45ish, and our timed Bear Lake Road ticket was for 5am - 7am and Sprague Lake was an hour and twenty minutes from the hotel, the walk to our spots was about twenty minutes meaning we had to leave the hotel no later than 5:15am, meaning we had to wake up no later than 4:45. NO LATER. I woke up at 4:30 super excited and raring to go. Derek was a little bit groggier, so I lazed about next to him while drinking my sugar free red bull. When he was ready to get up and get going, I sat up, stretched a full body stretch, and pulled a muscle in my shoulder blade and down my ribs. Like a crick in your neck, just in my shoulder and down my side. It was horrendous, I yelled out and told Derek what happened. He asked me if I would be fine to hike, I told him whether I was or not we were going to be hiking, and with that, I got ready while I listened to Derek wax annoyed about how stubborn I am. I'll rest my muscles when I'm dead. 

We drove the hour into RMNP in that super dark right before dawn, and were both a little surprised to see Sprague Lake was...full of other people. I did not expect that, I expected some photographers to be there, but not throngs of people. I was worried that I was in for another Schwabacher Landing experience. Thankfully I was not, but it was a little aggravating having to contend with the long reflections of headlamps on the lake, and the red of tail lights from cars driving away when they found the lot full. The lot was full. Again...shocked. Shocked AND dismayed. Derek and I grabbed our gear and hustled over to the side of the lake we had scoped out the day before. I listened and heard the rushing little waterfall, and was super excited to find my scouted sunrise spots, and then....never found them. Derek told me I had to go further and I was like, NO, this is where I was! I was very adamant that this is where I was. Derek moved further up the lake, and I stayed put, finding a little space that wasn't my chosen designation, but would (hopefully) work in a pinch. 

That remains to be seen.

I'm here to report that sunrise photos maybe aren't my thing. Like...maybe I'll get lucky one of these gos, but I find myself getting frustrated and impatient and it makes me more angry than pleased to be stretching my photography muscles. I have a lane, I like that lane, and I'm not sure I need another lane. Is this going to stop me from wanting to do sunrise photos? No. No it isn't. Not even the siren call of sleeping in because I'm 42 and I've earned it will keep me from sunrise photos. I'm just saying that while I take them, I am not really enjoying myself. This morning was no different, and to top it all off, I had to leave right before alpenglow REALLY popped off because I was in need of a trip to the bathroom for a surprise second morning poops. My body is a vile betrayer. Derek was texting me that alpenglow was starting, and I was more sad I missed seeing it fully (I caught a tiny little shred of it) than I was sad about not being able to photograph it. I'm sure whatever photos I got will reflect my lack of patience and follow through. Excited to show that off, honestly. 

Derek came back from his morning photos, and he must have been having a Drea type photo morning, because when I asked him if he was satisfied with the location he was at and the photos he grabbed, he made a face and said, "not really, no". Well alright. We packed up the vehicle, debated on changing out of our cold weather clothes (it was easily only 30 degrees out, so Derek and I were both in fleece lined leggings, jackets, mittens, hats, we looked bundled and toasty, though Derek did make me wear hand warmers in my cold weather running mittens so my hands didn't turn into corpse looking icicles. We didn't change...mistake....and just got in the car and headed to Bear Lake. We had stayed a little longer at the lake than I had wanted, Derek wanted to not make the same mistake we made at Grand Tetons so he stuck around for well after sunrise, and I was worried that the parking lot at Bear Lake would be full by the time we got there. The light on the drive sure was pretty, though. 

Bus after Bus was coming down the mountain, so I knew the trail would be full, I was just keeping my fingers crossed that the lot had at least ONE space open. When we arrived, the lot looked really full, and I was lamenting our lateness internally, but Derek pointed out that there were plenty of spots in the back, so we grabbed one. Huzzah!! Point one of twenty thousand points for the day down. 

I packed pretty light knowing we had quite the hike up the mountain, and I wouldn't really need my long lenses, but I WOULD need water and snacks. I think I only packed my 16-35 and my 24-70, three bottles of water, a bag of jerky, some of my homemade trail mix, and a couple of IQ Bars. I didn't bring my tripod, Derek was again gracious enough to let me use his, but this meant tacking on weight to Derek when he is very much a FOMO kind of photographer. I don't think he left a single fuckingl ens behind, he took all of it. His pack easily weighed 20-30 pounds. I think mine weighed maybe 15. We left our stamp books in the car because why would there be stamps at Bear Lake, she asked foreshadowingly. We walked the long walk from our car to the trail head, I took a picture of the bus stop where I famously (in my head it's famous, anyway) ripped my shirt off because I had a pine beetle crawling on me:

I'm turning left. 

then I took a photo of the corridor trails map:

You are somewhere around this general area.

and then I took a photo of the trail length...um...map? Just so Derek and I could keep track of distance.

This did turn out to be helpful, but mostly for other hikers who asked me how far the lakes were. And then I saw a ranger coming out of a teeny tiny little hut, and I ran up to him and asked him, "you wouldn't happen to have any special cancellation stamps, would you?" and he grinned at me and said, "why I sure do, young lady, come right this way!" I squealed for Derek to tell him the good news, and excitedly told the ranger we would be back to stamp our books when we finished the hike, but I was really looking forward to completing my stamps for RMNP. With that, we were off. 

We skipped Bear Lake because, as pretty as it is, it's kinda the least exciting lake of the lake loop. We decided against Lake Haiyaha, which is kind of a shame as I've never seen it, but it did end up being kind of a blessing in disguise that this was the decision we made. I was so bursting with glee over stamps and joy at finally being able to take Derek on my favorite trail in the world (so far) after almost thirteen years of waiting that I didn't notice just how badly my shoulder and side were aching under the weight of my camera bag. Once we really got going on the trail, every step was agony. The trail is pretty much all uphill without a break, but the trail isn't hard by any means:


Welcome to this for the next two miles!

And each step was already  kind of a nightmare. Derek offered to take my bag and carry it so I could rest my back, I said no, and we pressed on. The views are kind of a bummer until you get to Nymph Lake, and then it's amazing through Dream and up to Emerald, but I say that knowing full well that even the crappy views on this trail are beautiful.


Not only was my body uncomfortable from tweaking whatever muscle it is I pissed off that morning, it was also becoming unbearably hot. I asked Derek if he was warm, he was, and I said we should change at Nymph Lake. We had both dressed in layers, it's the smartest way to be out and about actively in cold weather, and I am so glad we did, because I was WARM and drenched in sweat by the time we got to Nymph Lake. But we got there!


I've only seen it the one time, and it was in the very early summer, when water levels of the lakes are much, much higher. 


In fact, there is a photo of me laying down on this exact log, well into the lake, taking a photo of the lake reflecting the trees, and the lake is littered with much more handsome lilypads. I took a several minutes long break to see if I could find the picture of me on this log...turns out I could!


I couldn't find a picture of the picture I took. Go figure. 

But wait, there's more!


I am not a fully functioning member of society. 


I have since massively and completely elevated my gear game. 

Those are all me circa June of 2013, enjoying various parts of this very same hike, having probably a way less good time because Kristen was always kind of a bummer to be around, and Derek is much more fun. Much more my speed. 


Much more willing to strip down in the forest with me on a chilly October morning to the amusement and confusion of overdressed onlookers. Check out that hot man piece taking off all of his outer layers LIKE A PERVERT!

Derek kept his jacket on, I did not. I was wearing a sleevess tank top with no back and almost none sides, and a pair of biker shorts, and I know almost everyone who passed by me looked at me like I was crazy, as they were all dressed in pants and jackets and mittens and hats. But I run crazy hot, it WAS crazy hot, I was carrying an extra fifteen pounds of gear at least, and even if it was only 40 out, I was sweltering. Back onto the trail we go!


What direction are we going?


Oh, good. Up. 


This false flat gave way to big natural lookout, and my bag was so uncomfortable on my shoulders that I was starting to have a panic attack. I climbed up on the rocks, put my bag down, and took a little bit of a "rest and cry" break. I know, I cry a lot. Perimenopause is heinous, but also there's no shame in crying. I'm going to cry right now, in fact, just because I can and I want to (I don't actually want to, so I won't, but I would if I did!). My bag was hurting my pulled muscle something awful, but I wasn't about to turn around, I just needed to have a bit of a snack, a bit of a cry, and I could get back to it. I did feel better putting my bag down, now it was just REGULAR amounts of pain without added weight. 


Also overrun with very bold chipmunks. STOP FEEDING WILDLIFE, YOU PRICKS.


It's Mount something or other!

I think I rested for about ten minutes, put my bag back on, and Derek tried to adjust it, which just made it worse. Seriously, I cannot stress enough that every step down hurt my pulled muscle, and felt like my pulled muscle was on fire because of how stupidly my bag was sitting on my back. Derek told me to stop being stubborn and just let him carry my bag, so very stubbornly I said FINE and gave him my bag, and Derek pack muled his way up the trail with me. It helped, though not as much as one (read: me) might have h oped, but it was a kind gesture. What I think Derek was after was everybody commenting on what a boss babe he was for carrying everything up the mountain. I told Derek everybody probably thought I was a hateful hag that forced him to carry my gear because I didn't want to, and he was like, who cares? 

ME CARES. Me. I'll never see these people again, so obviously their opinions mean the world to me. 


"Can't believe this racialized man's white bitch wife made him be a donkey," everyone's eyes said to me. 

It wasn't like it was exactly a breeze once Derek took over carrying my bag:


Stairs at 9,000 feet up!


More stairs at a different elevation!

I did find the very first few I wanted to try and get a photo of, though. I rooted myself in place, had Derek drop my bag off at my feet, thank you butler, and as aggravated as I was at the bright sunshine in the very corner of my photo, I spent about fifteen minutes with different lenses and filters and I'm hoping I got at least adjacent to what I was after. 


A beautiful place to make a valiant effort at trying for something nice, at the very least. I did notice a pair of tourists trying to take a similar photo to mine, which happens a relatively large amount, pretty  much every photo trip we take someone bites off mine or Derek's style. 

I took my bag back from Derek after this, we weren't far from Dream Lake, after all, and I had had enough time to rest my twinged muscles (a blatant falsehood). Taking my bag back really made the hike so much worse. I know I said this before, but every step hurt. The good news is, I wasn't even thinking about my terrible knees, but the bad news was every inch forward was agony. I kept telling Derek I remembered a waterfall from when Kristen and I were here 13 years ago, and when I heard rushing water, I was thrilled! I had attempted to take a waterfall photo the first time around, and as you might have noticed from the photos before, I wasn't exactly rocking the sturdiest tripod for that. The photo was blurry and terrible, and I wanted a second chance at a decent shot. I'm much better at waterfall shots now, even I'm not a qualified landscape photographer. I gently trotted up the trail to find the waterfall....and it was gone. Not like, gone gone, the water was still there, but I think there was a fire up here, too, and the landscape had changed during a mudslide or something. 


Isn't she trying her hardest?

We were really close to Dream Lake, though. Finally. It is pretty much flat from here until the last little stretch of Emerald, I could hack this easy. 


Destination Almost!

I don't have what scientists would qualify as a photographic memory, but this landscape had changed a bit from what I recalled. There was now a little pond on the right of the trail:


and a little stream to the left (presumably this used to feed into the waterfall that is no more):


and truly the good news is? It's not like it was uglier than I remember. It's just so pretty up here. And after a few more minutes of nice, flat, painful walking, we arrived at Dream Lake:


Second to last lake of the loop! There are two ways to go here, you can go forward to take pictures on a big jutting rock directly on the lake, or you can walk down to take pictures at the lake's edge. I went down to scope out something interesting. 


I have yet to see any of these, I haven't uploaded my images yet, and I'm already irritated because I don't think I was at the right vantage point for that log to be what I wanted it to be in my head. Drea strikes again, I am always getting in my own way. I know I switched lenses, but I don't think I moved locations. Which sucks. Next time?

I left my bag with Derek so I could explore a little bit easier, the lack of bag weight did help, but I was still having a pretty rough go of it any time I stepped down. Even worse, I was no longer sweating, I was actually pretty fucking cold. I climbed up onto some rocks to get a nice overview of the lake, mostly to do it, but also to see if it was worth bringing my gear up here and trying for an actual photo. 


I've seen better. 

I ran back down...gingerly...and grabbed my bag and headed to the lake's edge on the other side, finding a place to sit down that doubled as a beautiful spot to take some more photos. 




Here goes that silly bad photographer again!

The wind had really picked up, and since it was still 40 degrees, and I was no longer warm from working my body, the wind was making me miserable. But it was so pretty to look at and listen to. 


It was right about here that I decided I couldn't hack it anymore. I was cold, my whole body hurt, walking made me miserable, and I felt really guilty about Derek taking my gear when he had heavy enough gear of his own. I put on my jacket and took a few more photos to mull over the decision to head back down without going up to Emerald Lake. 

Yup. It was the right call for me. I packed my gear up and told Derek I was ready to go back to the car. He said ok, he was cold, and I was like, no no no, you go up to Emerald Lake, I've wanted you to see it, it is so gorgeous, please go and take some photos for me. He asked if I was sure, I said I was, I just needed to go to the car to sit down because my body really hurt. Whatever I hurt in my back....from days of sleeping on terrible, awful beds...had fucked me up good and terrible. I left Derek to enjoy Emerald Lake and made my way back down to the parking lot. The absolute delight of my life was catching a juggler on my way down to the car:


I have since tried to find this juggler online, but believe it or not, the internet is full of these weirdos. Without anything to really go off of, I just had to scroll through instagram, hashtag JUGGLER, hoping to spot Rocky Mountain's own loud jacketed juggler. Not a single whiff of luck. Juggler, whoever you are, I love that you are so passionate about your hobby, and your juggle pins...your...juggling bottles? If they're just called juggs I'll scream...anyway the things you throw up in the air are very gaudy and I think that's swell. I hope the tiktok or insta reel you were making turned out great. 

It only took me about 25 minutes to get down, and surprisingly it hurt less than going up so I could take it at a fairly quick clip. I got down the trail and went to the car and had an electrolye water, ate my snacks, and rested for about an hour. I figured Derek couldn't be long at this point, so I grabbed our stamp books and went to meet him at the trailhead. 


I did put my mask on, because this trail was crawling with people. I also had been nose drippy the whole day, so my allergies were on high alert. A mask was not just responsible for the community, but for my own post nasal drip. 

I waited for Derek. And waited. And waited. 

And waited. 

And waited some more. He took another hour and a half to make his way back down the trail. I thought about making my way to Alberta falls, I heard a few people say it was only a mile (I just checked, it was .8 miles) and I could likely knock that out pretty fast since it was all downhill (until the return, obviously), but I worried about getting word to Derek that I had gone to do a fast hike and I'd be back. I almost left a note at the car to tell him where I was going, but got anxious that maybe he was on his way down right this very moment, and I didn't want him to have to wait who knows how long for me. So I stayed and waited out the hour and half...I so could have done that hike in time...until I saw him coming down the trail. I caught up to him and told him I had brought our books so we could get our stamps. I asked him again if he was satisfied with the photos he took, and again he said, "not really". I scoffed a bit and asked him what he was doing for 2.5 hours if he wasn't happy with the photos he took, and he should have said, "I was taking bad photos", but he didn't. He just said he was trying to figure out what vantage to photograph from. But he did say the lake was beautiful. I'm so glad he got to see it. 

We got our stamps and went back to the car to make our way out of the park for the last time this trip. We went to the last visitor center to get our last stamps of the park, I bought myself a shirt (that I'm wearing right now!), bought Derek and I a puzzle, and cleaned out the car a bit. I threw away our precious timed entry permits:


and what would this trip blog entry be without saying yes, I cried on the way out of the park. 


I miss you already, Rocky Mountain National Park!

When we got back to the hotel, Derek couldn't figure out what he wanted for dinner. I knew I'd be having slop, but Derek struggled to figure out if he wanted burgers again, or something else.He opted for something else and got Thai food. 


His slop.


My slop.

And we watched Spiderman: Brand New Day and then went to bed. We didn't have to wake up SUPER early in the morning, but I did want to get on the road relatively early so we could have a nicely timed dinner at KC Craft Ramen. 

This is, technically, the last official day of our trip. I WILL blog about our day on the road, but I'm going to converge the last two days into one short blog, but really, this is all she wrote of this trip. It was an incredible, amazing trip that I want to say was once in a lifetime, but I seem to take all manner of once in a lifetime trips with my husband. Another one for the books, then. 



There are no bears in the sky: National Parks trip, day 10

It may be almost two weeks home from the trip, but I still recall how comfy the bed was at our La Quinta in Estes. I don't know if it was just average but our beds for the last week and a half had been so bad that it seemed heaven-sent by comparison? It doesn't even matter. That sleep was such a great sleep. We had to get up kind of early, we had to be at the park between 8-10am for our timed entry pass. We got up at 7, had breakfast, and headed out at 8. On our way through Estes, I was delighted by an elk that I initially thought was a statue.

Breakfast time at Estes Thai for elk!

We had a pretty light day on board, we figured today would be the best day to run around and gather all of our stamps for our books. I had only one demand of the visit to RMNP: we had to do the lakes loop. It is my favorite hike at Rocky Mountain National Park....by default, really. It's the only hike I've done in the park. I've told Derek several times that my biggest aggravation while living in Colorado was not really having people who wanted to go do Colorado stuff with me. I had friends here and there recommend things, like my girlfriend Anali wanted to do the incline together but I was far from interested in the incline. I talked Dan into going to RMNP with me once, but it was snowed over and we just ran around in the show for a couple of hours (admittedly a very fun time). Kristen was the first person to suggest a trip to Rocky Mountain National Park to do an actual trail, and while I recall that day as very fun (I fell in a river, I tore my shirt off in front of a bunch of strangers while screaming about a bug, I met a couple of geologists and learned about glacier movement AND geocaching...), Kristen and I were at very different fitness levels and I don't think I treated her very well about it. I wasn't derogatory to her or anything, I just left her behind to take the trail at MY pace, and then I would go bounding back to her to do some of it with her, and then I'd go rushing off again. Not very cool to leave my friend in the dust like that when she had suggested we do the trail together. I was able to do local hikes, my friend Ian and I would go up to Rainbow Falls and Garden of the Gods pretty constantly, though a lot of that was mostly about stealing the mayorship of these places on Foursquare from each other. The bathroom at Garden of the Gods was VERY hotly pursued...that and the main office of Focus on the Family (to be funny, not because we were fans of their policies or anything). Anyway, all of that to say I didn't get to do a lot of Colorado things when I lived in Colorado, and catching up each time I've visited since leaving has been a treat. 

Back on track. The Lake Loop at Rocky Mountain National Park was on the docket for our second full day, mostly because getting there early helps you beat the crowds. It is THE most popular hike in the park, and if you get there after like...8am, the lot is full for the day, and the trail is packed. I wisely put that on the plan for our sunrise day where our timed entry ticket was for 5am. 

Ok. So we get into the park, and we make our first stop at the first visitor's center. I was delighted to see mugolio being sold, made from all the different kinds of pine and firs at the park. I bought a bottle for my dad, Rhyann, and Derek's mom (even though I can make this shit myself), chatted with the lady behind the counter about it (she told me she had been eyeballing it and was very curious about it and she seemed to listen very happily when I told her I've made it, and how to make it), got our stamps, and headed off to our first actual stop: Sprague Lake. I wanted to do some of the easier hikes, just knock a bunch of RMNP hikes off of my list. Sprague Lake was a loop that was a little over a mile, and sadly it was the only really little hike in the park. I guess aside from the lookouts we check out later, but those don't really count. 

Obviously the drive from Moraine Visitor's Center to Sprague was delicious. I mean. It's the Colorado Rockies. Not much is prettier, even on its ugliest day. 

We said hello to some road turkey:



and continued winding our way through the Bear Lake corridor. Now, something I didn't really know about Rocky Mountain National Park, which is going to sound like it should be a given...it's fucking HUGE. Like, it isn't Yellowstone huge, but it's large. Derek and I didn't quite realize the task we had ahead of us in getting all of our stamps from all of the visitors centers, as they are spread out allllllllll across the park. Hitting up the first one was pretty easy, and we figured on the way to Sprague, we would hit up the second one at the other entrance to the park on the east side. Unfortunately when we got there, we discovered that it was outside of the park, meaning we'd have to leave and come back in. But even with timed entry, if you leave, you can't come back in until after 2pm. So we turned around and pushed off that visitor center stamp for later in the day. Back on track to Sprague Lake!

We could not have asked for better weather, honestly.


It was a wonderfully crisp Colorado fall day, no clouds, slight breeze, all views. We parked at Sprague and honestly, I cannot recall if Derek and I decided after the fact that we should use Sprague as our sunrise spot, or if we wanted to check out Sprague to see if it was viable for sunrise...I actually think it was me who pushed Sprague for sunrise. Derek wanted to do the hike up to Emerald for sunrise, but I didn't think that was necessarily a viable plan. I mean...yes, we could have done it, but even Derek later conceded that Sprague was the right call. Emerald Lake would have been beautiful, but it would have been a pain in the fucking tits to get everything up there in the dark. Even though Derek bought us great headlamps. 

Sprague was really, really pretty. Like, even the plain ol' beginning of the trail before you could see the lake was pretty.


And then you get to see the lake, and it's even prettier.


It was a really gentle loop around the lake, and when we got to the other side, I was inspecting the area like crazy, trying to find the perfect place for sunrise. I scoped out several little spaces for me to post up in the morning for sunrise photos, took pictures of each of them, and marked them in my memory. That was made quite a bit easier, because there was a rushing stream right behind the area where all of my spots were, and I figured that would make it so much easier for me to find in the dark. 


There's no way I could get lost with this as my north star, she said from the past, with future her knowing full well she super duper DID. 

Here were the places I had as my contenders for a sunrise spot:




Each spot had varying degrees of interesting foreground, but the lake and the peaks were present in all of them. I was going to winner winner chicken dinner this sunrise, fuck you Schwabacher Landing! I chatted with a couple of other visitors who were remarking on Derek's lenses (he brought all of his gear with him, I just scoped out with my cell phone and my eyeballs) and talked about sunrise photos, and we all joked about having too much executive dysfunction to be in charge of sunrise and sunset. Those older ladies were a treat. On the way back to the car, we got very involved in figuring out what kinds of trees we were looking at, I guessed Colorado Blue Spruce and Derek said I was wrong, but guess who was right? ME. It was me who was right. I showed him the little cones you can make mugolio out of and thought about yanking some, but decided not to.

We got back in the car after debating on whether or not to do the other little hike at Sprague (we did not do it) and kept ascending. It is quite a long drive to the alpine visitor center, and I don't think I had ever gone that far up into the park before. I think when Dan and I went, we took the alluvial trail route (closed to visitors this go around), when Kristen and I went we just did the lake loop, and when Derek and I went with my dad and Caryn, we drove back down after checking out Bear Lake. So Derek and I were traveling through a part of the park I have never, ever seen. I remarked on this to Derek, and he corrected me that actually, WE had done this drive together before. 

Oh no, he's right. We had. On one of our next stops, I did recall looking down into that exact part of the valley, just in winter, and it had been beautiful, but the road DID close and there was a point where we could go no further, so I still got to go with Derek into places of the park I hadn't ever seen, I was just wrong about the starting point of that section. Anyway, here's some views. 


I had gotten my junior ranger booklet at Beaver Meadow Visitor Center (which I forgot to mention us doing because it was largely inconsequential) and one of the things you have to do is take note of animal sign, like scat. So when Derek and I stopped to check out the beaver dam area, I was delighted to find two honkin' turds at the base of the dammed up creak. 


Bet you thought this was going to be poops.


There weren't any beavers present, sadly. But it was a very pretty little stop off, and it DID help me check off the section in my junior ranger booklet about spotting and identifying the shits of local fauna. Who knows whether I did it properly or not. 

Our next stop off was the highest I had previously been in the park. 


We got out to take some overlook photos, I sat on the wall, and about seven thousand chipmunks absolutely ran amok over my body. They were the boldest little varmints this side of anywhere, and I was annoyed because this means that people are feeding them. Derek told me he saw the guy next to us feeding the chipmunks his food, and I was irritated that Derek didn't point that out to me or say anything to this guy about it. The park states pretty clearly all over that you do not feed the animals, and that's as much for your safety as it is for theirs. They SHOULD be afraid of us, they are wild animals. I know they're cute, but don't fucking feed wild animals. They need a healthy dose of fear of us. Is it adorable to have them run all over my hands and my camera while I'm trying to take pictures? Yes. But it would be much cuter if they were allowed to stay wild. People are so fucking irresponsible. 

I tried in vain for about fifteen minutes to get a photo of a Stellar's Jay. Derek got a great set of them while I was grabbing my lens, and by the time I got back with my 100-400, the jay had fucked right off into oblivion, never to be seen again. I lost patience after about 15 minutes, so we hopped back in the car and continued the drive to Alpine visitor center. 

It gets VERY different when you get to the summit area of a mountain. You're not longer in an alpine forest, you're in a tundra. It's all bare and craggy and the wind is sharp and the air is thin and it is amazing. 


We stopped at one of the overlooks....I intended to get the map out and name every place we stopped, but you know what? I'm not gonna. Because I'm just not. We stopped at one of the overlooks before the alpine visitor center because you can see every single peak, and it is stunning. 



Do you see any tarns?

To make it clear, Derek and I were in very typical Colorado fall clothes for hiking in the mountains. We were wearing shorts and short sleeved tops. I had on the least amount of clothing, Derek at least had a jacket, and previously, we had been fine. It was maybe in the high 50s, the weather was really nice. But it gets nippy up in the higher elevations, and I made it about halfway to the lookout point before I had to turn around a find a jacket. Derek offered me his, but I said no because then HE'D be cold. So I wandered back to the car to find my jacket, which had eluded my earlier attempt to find it, but I knew it was in there somewhere. In the parking lot, I was reminded just how fucking differently Coloradans are built. There were several tour vans up here, and on the way out to the trail to the lookout, I had noticed one such leader of a tour group sitting with a much older man, coaching him on breathing. He (the older man) looked to me like he had been stricken with a bit of altitude sickness, which is no fun, and it put him out of commission while the rest of the tour walked to the lookout. On my way back to the car to find my jacket, I saw the same leader of the tour van sitting at the front of the van smoking a fucking cigarette. 

A cigarette. At almost 12,000 feet up. Coloradans are a singular breed, man. I haven't been a smoker in eleven years, and I remarked to Derek how it's wild to me in retrospect that I used to run five miles every day as a person who smoked 5-10 cigarettes a day on and off for the seven years I lived in Colorado. I was a non-smoker for four of those years, non-consecutively, but I was definitely a smoker when I was a runner. Running five miles a day at 6,035 feet elevation AND being a smoker is wild to me now. I hike three miles a day four days a week, cycle ten miles a day four days a week, and weightlift four days a week, and I was a little winded walking to that lookout at 11,000 some odd feet....and that dude was just smoking a cigarette, cool as you please. Man I fucking miss Colorado. 


You can't even see the lookout point from the parking lot.

It took me FOREVER to find my jacket. I may have mentioned our car was stuffed to the gills wth snacks and coolers and blankets in case we got stuck on the drive and needed to keep ourselves alive for a day or two (you never know at thise time of year!), so I had to dig around for about fifteen minutes to find my jacket. By the time I found it, I saw Derek was almost back to the car, so I opted to not head back out to the lookout and would instead have to live vicariously through his photos. Why, he asked me. Because I have to fucking pee. 

There were big ol' stripes of virga, one of my favorite things to see in the sky, and I wish I hadn't had to pee so badly so I could have taken a proper photo of it. 


Our next stop would be the alpine visitor center, we didn't pull off at the mud volcano side wall stop...I don't remember what exactly it was called, I think mud and volcano are both in the name, somehow, but I did snag a picture of the view down into the valley from that pull off.


I had to pee so badly that I forgot to get a picture of what the alpine visitor center looks like, but it is obviously the highest up of them all, and I say it's obvious because it's the vistor center with the least amount of pizazz, though I'm sure it took the most amount of logistics and work to accomplish. I appreciate you, NPS!

Winter season meant the indoor toilets were closed until late spring, so the line to potty at the outdoor facilities was long. We finally got to potty, I went back to the car and grabbed my junior ranger booklet to turn in, found a ranger inside, and got sworn in to the Rocky Mountain National Park Junior Rangers. They didn't have a badge available, but they did have a sticker, which I happily took and slapped onto my water bottle. 

Of course, our important reminder:


And of course, I would be remiss if I didn't mention how fucking disappointing these tribal and land acknowledgements are when these areas go out of their fucking way to exclude indigenous history from information centers. The "firsts" of colonizers are highlighted, but the idea that indigenous people beat them to the punch is mentioned nowhere. The history of their relationship with the land is erased. Land acknowledgements mean fuck all if you otherwise keep the people invisible from their own connections and roots and the barbaric pushouts and genocides that gives us access to places like national parks. Dirty work, NPS. 

Derek and I walked through the information section and read about all of the birds and animals that live this far up the mountain. At the end of the information area was a poll you could participate in (with marbles!) and then a white board that asked vistors a question: What is the cutest animal at Rocky Mountain National Park? I knew the answer, it wasn't even a contest.


Guess which one is my answer!


ME. I'M the cutest animal at RMNP.

The NPS gift shop was very small, and I wondered where the little coffee shop was that's reknowned for its cinammon rolls. 


It isn't over here!

Turns out it's in the building next door. Derek and I wandered over and found the little cafe tucked away into the gaudiest gift shop we've been in yet. I would say about 40% of the shit for sale was AI Slop products, and the rest of it was overpriced ali express overstock. There was a tiny corner hawking what the signs said were local artists, and I almost bought a whittled tree made out of local pine, but for 40 dollars, I turned my nose up at it and decided to make one myself. There was a winter where Derek and I carved out a bunch of animals from wood, I think my dad may still have the deer I did for him. I'm sure I can manage a tree. The cinnamon rolls were sold out, the place was packed to the gills, and I had a panic attack and had to leave. I will say my POTS was triggered so much more at elevation. I may miss Colorado, but I'm not sure my body would be all that happy with me if we moved back there. I went back to the car and waited for Derek, who was pretty much right behind me. It was a really gaudy gift shop, not much for him to gawk at after a quick stroll through. 

From there we had the loooooooong drive down to the furthest visitor center for our second to last stamp of the day. The weather looked it was starting to shift a bit from clear blue sky to maybe a rain shower or two, but the grey sky really made the aspens pop.


This side of the park was hit pretty hard by a fire in 2024, I think it was the Alexander Mountain fire but I can't be sure. We knew we were getting pretty close to the end of the park where the plains meets the mountains, because there was nothing to see but acres and acres of burnt trees.


It was several miles of driving through this before we reached the visitor's center, and it had started raining a bit when we got there. I had the pretty brilliant idea of asking the ranger at this visitor center if they could give me a badge because the alpine visitor center had been out. I don't know what it is about me that looks untrustworthy, but the ranger I asked gave me the most dubious look and said, "did you actually finish your booklet?" and I was like, yeah I can go grab it, they just didn't have the bages they only had stickers. He looked at me with even more distrust and said, "so you need to be sworn in?" and I got a little frustrated and I was like, "no, man, I got sworn in up there at the alpine visitor center, they just didn't have any badges available, they only had stickers." He rolled his eyes at me and was like, "Ok, I guess" and he handed me my badge. 


I was a little irritated, and I figured Derek had heard the exchange while he was getting his stamps because the stamp station was right next to the ranger station, but because the stamp station was kind of in its own little vestibule, he missed it. 

Back in the car we go, to go back up up up up so we can get back down down down down to Estes. We checked the driving directions from our location to Denver, maybe we would just drive from there to Jinya for dinner with my friend and his wife, but that was going to be a three hour drive versus a two hour drive going back the way we came. So we went back the way we came. 

We were driving behind this little like...open air jeep type vehicle taking a load of tourists through the trail ridge road tour, and I'm not going to lie, it made my thighs clench to look at it. 


Is it safe? Is it sexy? Is it OSHA compliant?

Obviously I had a different vantage on the way down, and I was legit crying over how pretty it was. Derek rubbed my leg and was like, "awww, nature makes you so emotional!" and I don't know if he meant that as just a statement of fact or something else entirely, but yes. Yes it does. How it doesn't make everybody else emotional is beyond me. 

Look at these views, how can you not want to cry?





We did not take the other gate out of the park to get our last stamp of the day. I can't even recall why, but we decided to save that for the next day after leaving the park when we finished our hike. Maybe it was to  have more than one date in the book, but it might have also been because of some other thing. The weather had gone back to gorgeous as we left, a proper send off for the day.


Dinner in Denver did not happen, sadly. Ian and his wife were so gracious about trying to fit us in at the very last of minutes, and I wish it had worked out (the same thing happened the next night. Again, no fault of theirs. I waited until literally the last minute to ask if they were available, I was just thrilled they tried to fit us in despite my thoughtlessness and weirdness for being nervous to ask sooner). This meant Derek and I had no dinner plans, and we didn't really feel like driving to Denver for Jinya if we weren't going to be eating with friends, so Derek stopped to get himself some In 'N' Out during the most gorgeous parking lot sunset.


We've been in national parks for nine fucking days, chasing light like this, and we find it in an Estes Park strip mall parking lot. Go fucking figure. 

I made myself hot slop at the hotel, and we crashed pretty early. We had to wake up at 4am for our last full day in RMNP.