Hiking in Wild Basin recently, I was asked the question that always puzzles me. Before starting out, I had noticed more cars than usual in the parking lot, many from out of state—Texas, Florida, Nebraska. And then I realized that it was Christmas break, the time when visitors come to Rocky Mountain National Park for their vacations.
It was a windy day with temperatures around 40, with some snow on the road and empty patches where the wind had blown the snow off. But once I got a mile up the trail, the landscape became more dramatic. Here in the deeper woods, the snow had piled up, outlining the boulders in white, forming large mounds along the trail and on the creek.
Enclosed in the ponderosas, which were swaying in the wind, and the deep snow, I felt like I had entered another world and left behind the slightly dirty and worn one. At Copeland Falls (above), the waterfall was smothered in snow, although the pool at the bottom was still open, forming a dark blue slit, like a glimpse of a hidden universe below the snow and ice.
Coming back, I encountered a large group, and one man asked how far was Copeland Falls, a popular and short destination for most tourists. Not far, I told him, maybe about a half mile. How long would it take, he wanted to know. I guessed a half hour at most. His final question: Was it worth it?
I never know how to answer that question, one I’ve been frequently asked on my hikes in Rocky Mountain National Park. When I told him the falls were covered in snow, he looked surprised and crestfallen, as if he hadn’t expected snow in the mountains in winter. It turned out he and his group were from Florida. Maybe they had never seen snow and didn’t know how it transformed the landscape.
Yes, I wanted to say, it’s worth it, because up ahead on this trail is a landscape you’ll never see in Florida. All the snow on the river has disguised the boulders as something soft and fluffy; some look like Hershey’s kisses, but you can use your imagination to find other shapes. In some places the water has broken through the snow and ice and formed into an eye. If you’re lucky you might see an otter pop out of the creek, like I did one winter. Or if you look across the river, you might see a moose in the woods, almost disguised among the trees.
But is it worth the hike up the trail? Maybe they should turn around and head to the main part of the park, where the rugged line of tall mountains can take your breath away. In fact, I’m often questioned by tourists, who took the wrong road or were led astray by Google maps, where this trail leads. Because I know they’re looking for the spectacular views, I don’t argue. Instead I point the way back to the road, tell them to turn left and look for the sign that leads to the main entrance of the park.
Here in this side area of the park, it’s just a walk through the woods along the river, a hike many would regard as boring, but for me it’s always worth it. Although I love the high peaks and the alpine lakes in the main part of the park, I’m just as happy to walk along the river and observe the different ice formations, while surrounded by the conifers and boulders that line the trail and creek. If I somehow get bored with that, I can turn my head up to the sky and see the clouds skimming east; or listen for the occasional bird song in winter, like the Townsend’s solitaire making its lonely cry; or hear the creak of the trees rubbing against each other in the wind.
Yes, it’s worth it, but only if you open your eyes –and heart.