snow-capped peaks
one cloudy day we planned to drive to grand lake. grand lake can be reached a couple of ways. you can drive through the park across the mountains on trail ridge road, which takes about an hour and a half. or you can go down around the south of the mountains, which looks like it'd take about three days. we chose to drive through the park.
near its highest point, trail ridge road crosses tundra. it's above the treeline, so what you see are these fields filled with short grass and stubborn little flowers, strewn with lots and lots of small rocks. the rocks are amazingly well distributed — no large clumps or empty spaces, just a rather uniform scatter. if you squint you can imagine you see a pattern to the distribution of the rocks, left behind as the glaciers receded. (i admit you have to imagine pretty hard.)
you can get out and walk to an overlook at gore range. the elevation there is between 11,000 and 11,500 feet, so walking out to the viewing area is more of a chore than you'd initially think. by the time we got there mom and i were both panting. i assume my eyes were closed to avoid being blinded by the beauty of the mountains.
julie on the tundra
back in the car, we headed up the mountain once again. but as we approached the alpine visitors' center, betty noticed something unusual. "that car has snow on its windshield!" she said. sure enough, an oncoming car was dusted with snow. and the next one. and the next.
elsewhere in colorado, people were experiencing thunderstorms. but thunderstorms + high altitudes = snow and hail, as we found out directly. soon enough we hit the snowstorm ourselves. driving was pretty dicey; we saw a car that had spun out. you'd think that we'd put an experienced winter driver to work, right?
well, no. the lady from new orleans was at the helm. see, i have a problem: if i'm driving as we ascend the mountain, with nothing but a precipice at the roadside, i start to worry that maybe i'll go crazy and drive the car over the edge. i don't doubt my skill; i doubt my sanity. it's an irrational fear, as most fears are. add snow and hail to the mix and, well, it just wasn't a good idea for me to drive.
we eventually made it to the visitors' center, surprising us all, and sat in the snack bar enjoying the view of the snow on the mountainside. ponder this: where do the elk go when it's snowing? also ponder this: why didn't i think to wear socks? it was 36°, for crying out loud.
they don't look that cold...
wait. maybe they do, after all.
as to our plan of continuing over the mountain to grand lake, the ranger counseled, "the weather's either going to stay the same or get worse...it won't get any better." though the weather was bound to improve on the way down, we weren't sure trail ridge road would stay open — and what if we'd gotten to grand lake and found we had to take the long way home? we decided cowardice was the better part of valor and started down the mountain the way we'd come.
the whole reason for going to grand lake to begin with was to eat nachos and try out a segway. not a great disappointment, really: the drive down the mountain, riding the brakes and trying not to slide into the car in front of us, was thrill enough, thank you very much.
in fact, as we headed down, we saw that the rangers were closing the road to upward-bound cars because of the weather. we'd gotten out just in time, i figured, visions of the donner party dancing meatily in my head. it was a relief to sit down to a more conventional supper of pasta and broccoli in our snug little cabin (and to put on toasty socks at last).