Elk Meadow Park

Danelle had triathlon training this morning, so I dragged the kids out with me for this weekend's hike. A little online research led me to Elk Meadow Park in Evergreen as a good option -- fairly close, fairly flat and fairly short.
Some of the trails were poorly marked, or we hiked on things that weren't actually trails. Not exactly sure which.
The wind blowing through the tall grass looked like waves on a "green ocean," as Taryn put it.
Some wild iris.
Zak tried to cross a little seasonal stream on this log bridge. Well, by "tried to cross" I mean "got this far and jumped back off."
Taryn took a turn. This picture immediately preceded her spinning upside down and hanging from the log like a monkey until I helped her off. I didn't think taking a picture of that moment was the best use of my time, though it was pretty funny.
Biggest bummer -- we never lost sight of the highway, which kind of shatters the whole feeling of being out in the wilderness.
Taryn thought this dead tree had been cut down to make paper towels.

The only way to get them to take pictures like this any more is to promise that we'll take a "silly one" afterward.

So here you go.

No idea what this little bird is, but he sat still long enough for me to get a decent picture.
UPDATE: Rebecca Kosten and DiAnne Weston of the Colorado Birding Society to the rescue!
It is a Vesper Sparrow. The well defined cheek pattern, white outer tail feathers, white eye ring and especially rufous feather on the upper wing all indicate a Vesper Sparrow. It is rather a large sparrow that nests in the Colorado mountains and on the eastern plains.

All hikes should end with a stop for ice cream, though the service at The Blue Cow Eatery in Morrison was terrible. We spent nearly an hour there just to get a cup of vanilla ice cream with sprinkles, a root beer float and a chocolate malt.

Since we apparently didn't really walk on trails the whole time, I'm not exactly sure how far we went. I'm guessing about 2.5 miles in about an hour and a half, so "leisurely" would be a good way to describe our pace.

The Pros and Cons of Trekking Poles

I tried out a bunch of new gear on my Beaver Brook hike last Saturday, including new boots, a camelback and a pair of trekking poles. Yes, trekking poles. The guy at REI said all the employees had gotten some as a Christmas gift, and after he tried them once he loved them. So I figured I'd give them a shot.

Pros:

1. They definitely provided extra stability on uneven areas, like having four feet.
   
2. They spread the workout to my upper body. I'd never felt a hike in my shoulders before.
3. Building on that last one, they definitely reduced the impact on my knees, especially in some of the stretches where I was doing more downhill climbing.
4. They let me test rocks that could have been unstable with something other than my foot.

Cons:

1. The grips irritated the skin between my thumbs and index fingers. Not to the point that they blistered, but it was still annoying.
2. It was awkward trying to do anything else with my hands -- eat a Clif bar, take a picture, etc.
3. I found myself looking down at where I was putting the poles way too much instead of enjoying the scenery.
4. And of course, I felt like a dork.

So after one use I'd say the jury is still out. Some of the cons may go away as I get more comfortable with them. Stay tuned.

Beaver Brook Trail

My first big hike of the new year seemed like a good excuse to update my poor neglected blog. After reading about Beaver Brook, I figured it would be a nice place to start.

Nice view to the northwest down to US 6.

I like scree. It always makes me feel like I'm doing something more than just going for a country stroll.

The view back to the east.

This could be the inspiration for a painting. I would call it "Four Colors of Lichen on a Rock," and would tell anyone who didn't like it that they just didn't understand art.

I strayed from the trail a couple of times, but fortunately managed to avoid the patrols.

The trees in this area all grew bent over, almost like they were pulled by a mysterious unseen force.

A bridge of sorts that wobbled more than I would have liked.


I turned around here rather than try to do the loop.


Ants. Still cool, and still working way harder than anybody I know.


And all of a sudden, there was the trailhead again.

Just over three and a half hours and 9.6 miles in all. No beavers and four brooks. Seriously, who names these things?