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.