The first of three planned backpacking trips on our eighteen day western road trip, this one was the highlight of our vacation. It would be an easy four day loop in the Maroon Bells – Snowmass Wilderness, in central Colorado near Aspen. Sharing some terrain with the popular “Four Pass Loop,” I chose this route because it has less elevation gain (6200 ft) and less total mileage (23). This would be Sam’s first backpacking trip above 10,000 feet, so best not to push too hard. It would turn out to be a good choice for several reasons. We left from the Maroon/Snowmass trailhead at about 3pm on the 14th of July, hiking into the wilderness. Near the trailhead there was a bride-to-be with her photographer taking pictures before the wedding, in the beautiful sunlight among the aspens. Those will be some great photos, I’d bet.

We hiked south up the trail following Snowmass Creek, which we could only rarely see, but could always hear burbling in the distance. The lush valley kept our views of the mountains ahead to a minimum for the first few hours, but eventually the trees began to thin as we ascended. The fires out west hadn’t yet grown much, and so our views were unobstructed by smoke. We were passed by many trail runners with 15 liter packs, most likely doing our entire loop or longer in a single push. Nice. After coming to several promontories with great views up the valley, we decided to camp at a relatively flat spot just off the trail, just past the confluence with Bear Creek. We set up the tent in a small meadow, just off the trail to the east, one of few areas that would allow for a comfortably flat pitch on this section of trail. I scrambled down to the creek to fetch some water, and we went to sleep at about 9pm, tired from the long day. That morning we had woken up in Denver. 

The next morning we were up by 6 and on the trail by 7:30, pushing upward the remaining 7 miles and 2800 vertical feet toward Buckskin Pass, our second of three destinations for the day. The first would be Snowmass Lake, the archetypal alpine lake nestled in a gorgeous cirque just below 11,000 feet. As we ascended further up the valley toward the lake, we crossed the pond/creek on a hundred foot long “bridge” consisting of a jumbled pile of logs, which we weren’t sure was really the way. But we picked up the trail quickly again on the other side.

We climbed up through the trees until we reached Snowmass Lake, which is every bit as pretty as all the pictures make it look. We took a long lunch there, and then promptly got lost trying to find our way east, as there are a lot of camp sites and use trails in the area. A friendly Marmot let us get close to him, and eventually we found the trail we needed. It rained slightly on us for a short time as we crossed the area that the map shows as marshy. There was quite a lot of exposed dirt when we were there, like the marsh had receded recently. The path up to the pass is sinuous and winding, always trying to go around some kind of corner in order to serve up a new view. The views were increasingly great, as our legs became increasingly tired. We ran into a couple of backpackers heading the opposite direction who were from our state of Indiana. We talked for a short time and continued on.

We eventually topped out on Buckskin Pass (which is mislabeled on the USGS map) and sat down for maybe an hour to enjoy the view. It is amazing in both directions. As we headed down into the next valley, it began to rain, and the temperature dropped from mid seventies to mid sixties. It wasn’t a big deal for me, but I realized a little late that it was for Sam. She has diabetes, and terrible circulation in her extremities. We both stopped after about five minutes to put our rain gear on, but by that time she could no longer feel her hands or feet. Hiking quickly wasn’t helping her warm up at all. We needed to find a place to camp, quickly, so she could warm up. The rain was strong this time, and the ground around us was sloped enough that it would be difficult to make camp yet. We headed downhill, slightly off our route, to a little hillock between two drainages that has several good campsites on top of it. I quickly got the Stratospire II set up, and Sam hopped in. She was shivering by this time, so we covered her in both quilts, and I crawled under too, to share some body heat. After about five minutes I cooked a hot dinner for her. She didn’t really warm up until about an hour after she got into the tent. It didn’t stop raining that evening, so we both hung out in the tent together until we fell asleep. Sam didn’t sleep well with a lot of her gear wet.

 The next morning we packed up in the sunlight and headed back up the path we had descended, until we diverged going north, toward Willow Pass. As we climbed, Sam’s speed decreased until I needed to take almost all of her pack weight. She ended up with about 10 pounds of gear on her back, and we were still moving very slowly. When we topped out, she laid down and took a nap for a couple minutes. Later she would tell me that she didn’t even remember being on the top of the pass. As we descended toward the amazing Willow Lake area, she became increasingly nauseous. Then she knelt down and threw up. It was just water, but it’s never good when she can’t keep down food, as she needs to be able to eat in order to control her blood sugar. Luckily, after she vomited, she said that she felt 100% better. She was all smiles. As a precaution, we re-packed everything into my HMG Porter 4400, and strapped her little Arc Haul to the outside of my pack. She would be a day-hiker for the rest of the trip. We also decided to shorten the trip up by a day, if we could. Instead of camping in the lovely Willow Lake area, we would hike over the next pass before lunch and book it out of there. If we could, that is. Necessary though it was, high-tailing it out of this valley is my only regret of the trip, and I would love to come back to enjoy it more another time.

 With the weight off her back, and the vomit out of her stomach, she sped up by quite a bit and we made excellent time. My pack, including the mandated bear canister and the not-mandated bear spray, and all of Sam’s stuff weighed in at about 55 pounds, I would guess. Not bad for two people. But the Porter only weighs two and a half pounds, and its frame isn’t meant to carry that much weight. It was pretty uncomfortable on my shoulders, but the downhill nature of the rest of the hike made it easier. The red mountains to the west were unforgettable. We would continue to descend quickly down into the treeline, where we traded the expansive views for the more intimate green tunnel. We both felt that Snowmass Creek Valley was more beautiful than East Snowmass Creek Valley, mostly due to the more plentiful aspens in the former. We arrived at the car a day earlier than we had planned. Sam was in great shape after vomiting and descending, which was a relief to me. I always seem to somehow plan death marches for her without realizing it. We drove into town for some well deserved food and the continuation of our road trip.