Fred Elder, Bear Lake to Grand Lake, Another Ardith and Fred Adventure

A Dream Lake Overlook
B Hallets Peak
C Flattop Mountain summit
D Ptarmigan Point and Lake Helene
E Return to tree line
F  The Valley floor
G  Meadow Pond
H Upper Big Pond
I North Inlet Trailhead
J Grand Lake

For well over 20 years, Ardith and Fred annually crossed the Continental Divide, walking the 16.5 miles from Bear Lake to Grand Lake in Rocky Mountain National Park in a long, one-day hike listed as “challenging” in the Rocky Mountain hiking guides. In essence, this meant hiking up one side of a mountain and down the other side.  We always did the hike in early August to take advantage of the weather.  Each hike began with a flight to Denver, where we transitioned to a rental car bound for Estes Park, Colorado.  In latter years, we often did a relatively short hike before the day of our big hike.  Many of our pre- and post-hikes were themselves noteworthy for their terrain and vistas, including Thunder Pass, Lawn Lake, and Estes Lake.  This article, however, will focus on the hike over the Continental Divide.

Our stay in Estes Park the night preceding the hike usually found us at a motel near the Beaver Meadows entrance to the park. The day before the hike we had to go to the Ranger Station adjacent to Beaver Meadows Visitor Center in Estes Park to procure an over-night parking pass for the Bear Lake parking lot where we were also warned of any reported dangers (e.g., snow or ice fields; mountain lion sightings; bear sightings; washed-out trails).  After the Ranger Station, we strolled through town and purchased some last-minute supplies such as string cheese and apples.  It was with awe and a bit of disbelief that we gazed up to the distant summit of Flattop, where we would stand the next day. Once our evening meal was enjoyed, it was early to bed as we wanted our hiking boots to hit the trail by 6:30 the next morning. This meant getting up at 5:00 a.m. so we had time to imbibe in sustenance for the day ahead. We then packed up and geared up, and set off for the Bear Lake trailhead, a 20–30 minute winding drive through dense trees, starting in the dark and seeing the sun rise as we approached the trailhead parking lot.

Once at the parking lot, it was show time!  Was it a feeling of excitement or just the high altitude that took one’s breath away? We slipped on our back packs, stopped at the last ‘real’ toilet and began with a short-lived flat stretch at the edge of Bear Lake before the trail turned a corner; it was all uphill from there to the top of Flattop.  We started at an elevation of 9,475 ft and in the next 4.5 miles (about 2.5 hours) we would ascend almost 3,000 ft to Flattop Mountain.  The last leg up to Flattop proceeds from steep to steeper as one emerges above the tree line.  

 

 

While still in the trees, there was always the chance of seeing (and hearing) drumming ptarmigan – quite an unusual sight, but we saw them on more than one occasion.   About 1.7 mi from the trailhead, we reached Dream Lake Overlook and later enjoyed magnificent views of Longs Peak (the highest peak in the park).  A little over a mile further, we left the trees behind us and continued walking on rock and hard pack, necessitating giant steps upward, as we became exposed to sun and wind.   

From this point, all the way to top, we usually enjoyed watching pika scurrying over rocks and/or furry marmot lumbering along. Three miles from the starting point, we arrived at the Emerald Lake Overlook and the surroundings became increasingly barren and rocky as the trail moved into the open tundra.  Finally, after much huffing and puffing and wondering if we would ever arrive at the top, we reached the hitching rack (for horses), a sign that we were near the summit and had accomplished 4 difficult miles.   A feeling of relief was experienced here each year, but it was premature as a significant upwards scramble over boulders still remained before we would actually reach the summit.  In addition, there was usually snow to traverse, sometimes a little, sometimes a lot, between the hitching post and Flattop itself.  The summit (where one stands directly on the Continental Divide) offers spectacular views in every direction. Many hikers turn around here and descend the same way we came, but our day was just beginning since our ultimate destination still involved a long trek of 12-13 miles down the western side of the mountain.  From this point on we rarely saw other humans until we got closer to Grand Lake.

Once on top, a cold, strong mountain wind sometimes required the donning of a warm jacket and gloves.  Other years we simply enjoyed the sun. One never knew what one might encounter, so one’s backpack had to contain a jacket as well as suntan lotion and always plenty of water.  A rather short walk further on the top, brought us to a metaphorical fork in the road; that is, one had to decide which of two trails to take down the mountain: the North Inlet Trail or the Tonahutu Trail.  Both lead down to Grand Lake.

The North Inlet Trail is steeper and involves a series of switchbacks (sometimes muddy, once icy) that get one down to tree line more quickly.  (This is the best when one encounters rain, snow, fog, or strong winds.)  The Tonahutu Trail, in contrast, keeps one on top longer and offers an extended time of spectacular views, which often included sightings of an elk herd. 

The North Inlet Trail

We will continue this story in two parts.  The next part will describe the walk down the North Inlet Trail and the final installment will describe the walk down the Tonahutu Trail.

The North Inlet Trail follows (more or less) the North Inlet Creek.  As we came down the major series of switchbacks (before quite coming alongside the creek) we often encountered a solitary and stately bull elk.  He neither hides nor makes it easy to be seen. We were clearly the foreigners in his environs.

The point about 6.5 miles from the Flattop Mountain summit is called North Inlet Junction. Here one crosses the creek and enters a totally forested area.  We often stopped in this area for lunch, a well-chosen rock serving as our dining table.  Each year it seemed that lunch became less elaborate. Peanut butter on bagels became a thing of the past.  In fact, the last couple of years, we simply munched an apple, string cheese and peanuts as we walked. It was here that the battle with mosquitoes also often began.  It did not take more than one year of doing this hike to learn that a long-sleeved mosquito repellent shirt was requisite gear. Afternoon rains were to be expected, but we also learned that they came and went quickly, and by the time we got out our rain ponchos and put them on, the shower was over. We thus gave up on the rain ponchos.
And, the temperatures were usually such that, if we got wet, we dried quickly (if, at that point we even cared).

Farther down the trail we saw areas of what had been majestic green conifers now transformed into barren, brown areas of dead trees, victims of the bark beetle infestation.  (The beetle infestation began in 1996.)  It was rather sad to walk through such areas and see nothing but remnants of what had been; an eerie silence was also noticed as there was also almost no wildlife (e.g., birds, squirrels).

About 8.5 miles below the summit, we encountered Cascade Falls, a welcome reprieve from what had become a monotonous plodding through the forest. The falls provided a refreshing sound and feel, and the water rushing down two stages of falls was a beautiful sight.  This offered a good place to rest for a bit as we enjoyed the view and gave our exceedingly tired, aching feet a break.

Upon proceeding another mile, we encountered Big Pool, a tranquil section of North Inlet Creek, where we often saw one or two people fishing.  This always felt like a sign that civilization was in reach; however, the feeling that the end was near was something akin to a mirage.

North Inlet Meadows was our next landmark, situated at an elevation of 9,800 ft about 11.5 miles from the Flattop Mountain summit.  This large grassy area again provided a welcome change of scenery and sometimes a moose could be espied near the trail.  It also inspired one with hope that our destination was attainable.  We just needed to keep going and we would finally get there.

After another mile and a half, we were in the area of the North Inlet Campsite, which offers several spots for hikers to camp as well as a primitive toilet of sorts (no roof). One more mile, with feet protesting ever more loudly, we finally reached the end of the trail; we were at the North Inlet trail head, 14 miles from the summit!  Here one finds an even better toilet facility and not far away, the water pumping station for the town of Grand Lake.  Grand Lake itself is perhaps still another ¾ of a mile away on gravel roads and some paved roadways.  One’s walking stupor now gave way to visions of a hot shower, clean clothes, and a celebratory meal.

 

 

The Tonahutu Trail

This trail keeps one near the mountain top for quite some time as one walks across tundra to reach the Alpine Ridge (about 1 mile from the top of Flattop Mountain).  Here we were often in awe as we watched a herd of elk herd traversing the top, sometimes finding ourselves almost in the midst of the herd.  The views here are simply spectacular in all directions as snow-capped peaks surround one as far as the eye can see; we were at the top of the world, or so it seemed. ( Note: It is said this trail was used by the native inhabitants to cross the mountain in spring and fall.)

After a further descent of about 3 miles, we came to Big Meadows at an elevation of 10,800 ft, where one gradually moves below tree line. In the first years of our hikes, it was green and lush.  However, this area also fell victim to the bark beetle, leaving behind a forest of dry brown-needled trees. 

We continued our plodding along until we found ourselves walking alongside Tonahutu Meadows, still at an elevation of 10,400 ft. Here we often saw moose, as the environs offered the latter an inviting large green expanse of grass to graze upon with a creek slowly running through it.

After another four miles and only a 200 ft drop in elevation (rather discouraging as the trail leads back uphill for awhile ☹), we encountered the North Inlet Junction, where the Tonahutu Trail and the North Inlet Trail merge.  This Tonahutu Trail always seemed to go on without end until, about 13.5 miles from the top of Flattop at 9,500 ft elevation, we finally reached the end of the trail!  This engendered a feeling of great satisfaction, as well as relief, eagerly anticipating freeing one’s feet from the hiking boots. 

As one might surmise, this hike was no walk in the park, so to speak, especially when we were in our 60s and 70s. One pushed one’s endurance amidst the elements of varied weather and less than optimal terrain.  Most of the time, every footstep had to be watched amidst rocks and tree roots.  Narrow log bridges in various repair had to be traversed across rapidly moving streams.  Stepping stones were sometimes the path through areas of shallow slow-moving water that was sometimes partially frozen. Our feet ached and blisters were not uncommon.  One place on the Tonahutu Trail contained a scary stretch (at least to Ardith) where the narrow path at the edge of a steep drop-off was not flat but part of the hill on the other side that had eroded into loose sand.  The precariousness of this stretch was exacerbated one year when we here met a man astride a horse. We all survived but it was neither an easy nor a pleasant maneuver to get past each other.  The altitude too was a challenge, especially the first years of this hike, when we flew out one day, hiked the next, and flew back to the Midwest two days after the hike. One year, smoke from fires in the Rockies made it even more difficult to breathe. Another year, a fire had actually gone through the area of our hiking trail leaving spongy ashen ground amidst blackened and barren toothpick tree trunks (the Ranger Station warning that year included falling trees).  

As the years went by, we found we arrived in Grand Lake later and later in the afternoon, but at least we never approached darkness, which would have been very bad indeed.  Arriving in Grand Lake was always accompanied by a feeling of utter exhaustion, but also of accomplishment.  Not all parts of the hike were enjoyable, but it was a challenge met and the views at the top were stupendous, something not to be experienced except on one’s own two feet up the mountain. Grand Lake itself, a charming, non-touristy Western town, offered a beautiful setting (lake surrounded by mountains) in which to lick our hiking wounds and spend time with good friends summering in a cabin there.