Pic: Shiras moose bulls. Big Meadows, Rocky Mountain NP, CO
After consulting the ranger station in Granby, I found camping in an area popular with OHVs. Between the ranger I spoke with and signage at the National Forest boundary, I came away with two heretofore unrecognized fears:
- With the mountain pine beetle infestation there were tons of dead or dying trees that could fall over at any moment and crush me (or my car with all my possessions).
- The ground was saturated after the spring melt, so the slightest breeze could knock over a tree at any moment and crush me (or my car with all my possessions).
Meanwhile, I was in A FOREST so unless I wanted to camp in the road or a parking lot[1], I would have to camp near some trees. I ended up pitching the tent in a bit of a clearing next to an established fire pit. The surrounding trees all looked… alive and upright?
A spur-of-the-moment alternative return route ended up including passage through a steep ravine on a sketchy, washed-out section of road, but Isa kept her footing and soon I was back in Rocky. I picked the Green Mountain-Onahu Creek loop (7.5 miles, 1300′) mostly for its low elevation and proximity to the Grand Lake entrance. I would head to Wyoming this afternoon and there were a few hours of nothing between me and the oases of fast food and cheap motels on the I-80 corridor.
The highlight of the hike came early, when I arrived at Big Meadows and found a couple of young bull moose eating brunch thirty yards from the trail. I enjoyed them for quite a while, but reminded myself to have an escape route since moose give zero fucks. Up close, you can tell from their demeanor.
My bench for lunch, an old fallen pine next to a rushing creek, turned out to be sappier than expected. I got resin on my pants, my sandwich bag, and my apple (and subsequently on my hands, my backpack, my beard…). Though I rinsed the apple in the stream, a little of that fragrant pitch remained, lending the aroma of the forests to every bite of Granny Smith. I don’t know if eating sap is good for you or not, but I’m tempted to recreate the concoction. I call it: the pine-apple.
[1] Neither of these options is legal, fun, or particularly popular with other forest visitors, by the way.
Danger Beyond This Point 