National Museum of WWII Aviation

Posted on September 7, 2026 by Dave

Friday, September 4

I’m a sucker for a nice airplane museum.

I’ve been meaning to visit this one for years. I finally found an excuse to do it. I had to go down to Colorado Springs for some Lotus club business, and once that was done, I grabbed some lunch and a beer at Wackadoo Brewing Company (pepperoni pizza and a pint of Pucker Up Sour – a pineapple mango sour), then headed over to the museum.

I took photos of all the planes, but I won’t bore you with them here. If you’re interested in aircraft, particularly American planes that saw service in the Second World War, you should just visit yourself.

What fascinated me most was that all the aircraft in the collection (or almost all of them) are operational. Every one of these planes has an oil pan underneath its engines, collecting any drips. Warbirds of this era are rare. I had the impression that the ones still airworthy had survived not only combat, but the scrapheap. Today, I learned that my impression was incorrect.

I’ve been fascinated by YouTube videos of automobile restorations. I’m also addicted to a YouTube channel that features restorations of World War II tanks. Airplane restorations are a thing, too. But there are a few differences. For cars, unless it’s a very rare car, people can find parts at junkyards or even purchase “new old stock” parts (parts manufactured when the cars were made, but sat in warehouses since then). It’s harder to get parts for your vintage tanks. Who has parts for World War II German tanks? You probably can’t find that Maybach V-12 engine for the Tiger tank, but does it matter if you replace it with a Caterpillar diesel?

But aircraft restorations? Not really the same. First of all, if you’re going to fly your plane, it has to pass FAA inspections. This is a non-trivial thing. And, considering the source material for many of these planes, it borders on miraculous that they get restored.

One of the planes (a Grumman F3F-2) was crashed into a mountain on Maui in June of 1941, recovered from the crash site in the 1980s, and restored to flyable condition. An SB2C Helldiver was recovered from Lake Washington. They have a P-47D that was buried on Papua New Guinea in 1945 and recovered in 1990 that’s slated for restoration soon. Seeing the current state of the P-47, I have a hard time imagining it flying.

The museum doesn’t do their own restoration or service work. In a hangar next door is an outfit called Westpac. They perform restoration work, including some highly specialized tasks. The old propellers are precision devices with moving internal parts. Nobody makes them any longer, and parts can’t be found, so Westpac has their own propeller shop.

Of course, they also do all sorts of metalwork. They can’t just pop down to the Republic dealer and find a new cowling for their P-47 restoration. They need to fabricate all the parts themselves. They have managed to obtain many of the original plans for these craft, and their machine shop has all the equipment: English wheels, brakes, anvils, and so on. And it’s not just any such equipment, but of the same vintage as the planes being restored. They sourced their equipment from the old factories in Southern California.

During these extreme restorations, they often cannot use the original material. But nothing gets wasted here. They have volunteers who work in their “Alchemy Department”. Here, artisans take the scraps not destined for FAA-certified airships and make trinkets that are sold in the gift shop. You can find clocks made with the skin of an old bomber, tables that feature cylinders from old radial airplane engines, and odd devices that dispense potent potables (sorry, I didn’t snap any pics in the gift shop).

Last but not least, they have a number of simulators guests can try out. One of them is a biplane flight simulator. No, you don’t sit down at a desk with a toy joystick; you sit in the cockpit of a biplane and work the real controls. Push the joystick to the left and watch the ailerons on the wings move. Kick the rudder pedals, and the rudder moves. Yes, there are computer monitors as well, and the gauges on screen match the layout of the gauges in the cockpit. You won’t find this simulator anywhere else!

Oil pan under B-25 engine
P-47 D pending restoration
Damaged propellers that aren’t junk!
Wings pending restoration
Original plans, enlarge to actual size
Fuselage under reconstruction
Westpac metal shop

Timber Lake

Posted on September 1, 2026 by Dave

Monday, August 31

For this week’s hike, I managed to overcome my compulsion to visit a lake I’ve never been to before and returned to Timber Lake.

Timber Lake, with a surface area of about seven acres, sits in the morning’s shadow of Mt. Ida at a little over 11,000′ elevation. I was last here back in 2015. I gave a pretty good description of the trail then, so won’t repeat it.

The trail is your basic forest trail. Signs along the trail say the lake is 4.4 miles from the trailhead, but Caltopo maps reckons it at 5 miles. There aren’t any outstanding views on the way to the lake. My wife would probably describe it as “just another trail to just another lake.”

There is one outstanding feature of this trail, though. That’s the landslide area. The landslide happened during the 2013 floods. Locals will recall that just about every road into the mountains between I-70 and the Wyoming border was washed out. At the same time, there was a massive landslide on Twin Sisters.

When I hiked here in 2015, the landslide area was closed off – signs and orange tape directing hikers to detour above the slide. Now, there’s just a warning sign on each side of the slide area. The detour is still obvious on the west side of the slide, but I didn’t spot it on the east side. Judging from the state of the trail (not grown over at all, and with fresh boot prints), I’d guess very few people take the detour. The warning signs urge caution whether you cross the slide area or detour above it.

The slide area isn’t as big as I thought it was when I was here before. I counted 135 paces between the two signs, and only about two-thirds of that distance is the slide itself. The slide on Twin Sisters is an order of magnitude larger.

Erosion isn’t a topic I discuss very often with other folks. I suspect most people think of it as how rivers and streams wear away mountains. That’s true to a point, but it takes the normal flow of water (and wind) a very long time to effect change. That sort of erosion is ubiquitous, inexorable, and slow. Floods, like those in this area in 2013, or those like the failure of the Lawn Lake dam, or the slide in Chaos Canyon that turned the water of Lake Haiyaha turquoise, make the big changes. A flood can move a 50-ton boulder downstream a mile, or shift a mountainside. It is these catastrophic events that change the landscape.

My brother-in-law gave me a little emergency kit ages ago. I’ve carried it with me on day hikes and backpacking trips ever since. I’ve never used it until today. It fits in an Altoids tin. One might ask how much you can get in such a small package. My question is how Greg managed to fit everything into the tin. (It includes bandages, antibiotic ointment, matches, a razor blade, a compass, a length of cord, one of those Mylar thermal blankets, and a bunch more.)

I met a couple of hikers at the landslide area. One had slipped and bloodied a finger. He asked if I had a Band-Aid. As a matter of fact, I do! I dug to the bottom of my pack, retrieved the Altoids tin, and opened it. Naturally, the Band-Aids were at the bottom, so I had to take everything out to get to them. And, naturally, I was unable to repack the tin. It was like the tin was Dr. Who’s TARDIS – bigger inside than outside – until I tried to refill it. Evidently, Greg found the only way to pack this real-life 3-D Tetris game.

It took me a bit less than three hours to reach the lake. The weather was cool – I wore my jacket nearly all day – and the forecast was for rain starting mid-afternoon. In the end, it never did rain, and it warmed up enough in the afternoon for me to finally pack my jacket.

The two hikers I met in the landslide never did make it to the lake. I met another pair of hikers before I reached the lake. They asked if I’d seen any moose. They said they encountered a cow and calf on their hike in. I had seen the tracks, but not the animals that made them. I saw no big game all day.

One other hiker did arrive at the lake while I was there, and the only other hikers I ran into were on their way to check out the landslide area. I didn’t realize it was well enough known to be an attraction on its own.

Kawuneeche Valley mists
Mt Nimbus
“Active Landslide Area”
The center of the landslide area
Today’s Beer
North Timber Pond
South Timber Pond
What is it with rodents and my beer?
Timber Lake

A few yards Southwest of Timber Lake are two unnamed ponds, which I’m calling North Timber Pond and South Timber Pond. They’re scenic in their own right, and if you’ve made the effort to visit Timber Lake, they’re worth the extra few minutes. I suspect they see very many visitors, as I didn’t spot any social trails leading to them.

On the hike out, I made a stop at one of the campsites on the trail. There are four. From closest to the trailhead to closest to the lake, they are Timber Creek, Jackstraw, Rockslide, and Showbird. I checked out Rockslide. It’s a very nice camp. It’s only about a ten-minute hike to the lake, and ten or twelve minutes the other way there’s a privy (close to Jackstraw campsite). If I were ever to want to camp in the area, I’d stay here.

Timber Lake is worth a visit. It’s not a difficult hike, it affords some solitude, and the landslide area may be of interest.

Location	Time
Trailhead	8:54 am
Timber Creek campsite	10:36 am
Jackstraw campsite	11:15 am
Rockslide campsite	11:30 am
Snowbird campsite	11:35 am
Timber Lake	11:41 am

Back On The Streets

Posted on August 27, 2026 by Dave

The Elise has been out of commission since October, but as of a few weeks ago, thanks to Michael, with an assist from Dan, we are up and running.

It’s throwing occasional misfire codes. We have a new set of plugs but haven’t put them in yet. Perhaps it’s as simple as that. We’ll probably change the coil packs, too. In any event, it throws a misfire code periodically. I’ve driven it around town and on round trips to Grand Lake, Estes Park, and Livermore. I’ve gone through a couple of tanks of fuel.

I’m due for new license plates, and I had to get an emissions test. I went early, and there wasn’t a line. The last several times I’ve done this, they don’t have me get out of the car. They have me plug the OBD cable in, and I drive the car through the garage. This time, though, the guy told me to go to the waiting booth. I started to tell him how to start the car, but halfway through, I said, “Normally, you guys let me plug it in.” He said, “Oh, okay,” and that was that.

Until I went to pay. I didn’t have to pay because I got an “Incomplete”. I didn’t fail, I didn’t pass. “The vehicle’s OBD system has one or more supported readiness monitors in a ‘Not Ready’ status.” I didn’t realize that after you clear your misfire code, you have to run the car for ten minutes at a constant speed to reset the OBD status for that code. Once I figured that out, I drove the car up and down I-70 for a few minutes and went back and retook the test. I passed.

That was on the 17th. On the 25th, I took a drive with the club. We had lunch at the Three Rivers Smokehouse in Almont. That wasn’t the original plan, but an improvisation that improved on the plan. The original plan was to cross Cottonwood Pass westbound and Monarch Pass eastbound. Instead, we went both ways over Cottonwood. Monarch Pass is three lanes wide, which means it’s not as twisty. Not as fun. This was fun. One of the guys, Chris, made a nice video of it here.

On the way back, I stopped at the summit again. It was a beautiful day, so I took the top off. That was the last time I was out of the car until I stopped in Fairplay. Cottonwood Pass is old-school – still two lanes, with several hairpin turns. The speed limit is sometimes 35, sometimes 30. It’s a twisty road.

I made a potty stop in Fairplay. When I got out of the car, I immediately saw a metal bracket sitting on the rear clam. I didn’t know where it came from or how it was still on the car. It wasn’t there at the summit of Cottonwood. When could it have come off? Certainly not on Cottonwood. Not on Trout Creek Pass. And South Park is a series of fast straights. Frankly, I was surprised it didn’t fly off when I pulled into the gas station.

I eventually found where the bracket belongs. I found it on the driver’s side, but it came from the passenger side. It seems to serve no purpose. I suspect it’s leftover from the quick clam removal kit conversion.

As for the misfire, I get codes, but I never notice any misfires. But on the run up Crow Hill, a steep uphill pull at full throttle, I felt it misfire.

I’ll change the oil and swap the plugs before I head to Utah in late September.

It is great to be back on the road again!

Cottonwood Pass summit
Cottonwood Pass summit
The mystery bracket
About where I found the mystery bracket

Blue Lake-ish

Posted on August 26, 2026 by Dave

Often, when I mention to people that I’ve visited more than 150 named lakes in Colorado, I’ll get asked which is my favorite. It’s both an easy and a difficult question. I don’t have a “Top Ten” list. Today I could give you a list of ten fantastic lakes to visit, but if you ask me tomorrow, you’ll probably get a slightly different list, depending on my mood.

That said, there’s one place that I keep returning to: Glacier Gorge. It’s the valley that runs north/south immediately west of Longs Peak, anchored by Mills Lake at its northern end. Within Glacier Gorge, there are eight named lakes: Mills, Jewel, Black, Blue, Green, Frozen, Shelf, and Solitude. I’ve been to all of them multiple times. I could probably name a few lakes that are more dramatic or scenic or awesome than any of these eight.

But the southern end of Glacier Gorge keeps drawing me back for more visits. Black Lake is the launching pad. Climb the trail for four hundred feet beside the inlet stream on the east shore of the lake to be surrounded by greatness. Storm Peak, Longs Peak, Pagoda Mountain, Chiefs Head Peak, Spearhead, McHenrys Peak, Arrowhead, and Thatchtop rise around you, chiseled near-vertical slabs of granite.

It is not the most visited place in the Park, but Mills Lake and Black Lake are relatively easy to get to, so they see a lot of traffic. Taking the Fire Trail shortcut, Black Lake is four miles from the trailhead. The Fire Trail isn’t on maps distributed by the Park, and both ends of it are obscured so as to limit traffic, but it does get a fair amount of use by experienced and knowledgeable hikers.

I haven’t visited Glacier Gorge yet this year, so it was time for a trip.

The trailhead is on Bear Lake Road, so a timed entry pass is required. They go up for sale at 7:00 pm the night before. They release more than a hundred passes each day. And, no matter how early I arrive, I park at the Park-N-Ride and take the shuttle bus to the trailhead.

August 18, 2026

I decided to go back to Blue Lake. Having been there before, I didn’t bother taking a map with me. I know where it is, and although there’s no trail (that I know of), it’s not a difficult navigational problem. (He said with confidence!)

I put boots on the trail a couple of minutes after eight and arrived at Black Lake a few minutes after ten. The climb up the inlet, although fairly steep, doesn’t take long. It flattens out as you get to the top, and I got off the trail pretty quickly. Up here, it’s islands of granite slabs separated by seas of willow and krummholz. Regular readers know my dislike of willow and krummholz.

It’s just a matter of finding a route that maximizes travel over granite and avoiding the willow. This is often easier said than done. Forty minutes after leaving Black Lake, I found myself standing over a small pond that’s not on the map. I reckoned that Blue Lake was that way a short distance and surveyed my surroundings for an easy route.

Then I decided I’d just stop here and enjoy my surroundings. It’s easy to get caught up in goals: my goal was Blue Lake. But I’ve been there before. I’d never been to this little puddle; it has fundamentally the same view as Blue Lake, and the chances that anybody else will come here today are close to zero. Why not have my picnic here? So I did.

It turns out I was just 650′ more or less due west of Blue Lake. This little puddle is snow-fed and has no inlet or outlet. The water today was about a foot and a half below the high-water mark. I found some fairly fresh elk tracks, but didn’t spot any big game.

From here, if one had a decent pair of binoculars or a camera with a telephoto lens, it’s possible to spot hikers on Longs Peak making their way up the Trough, or hardcore climbers working up one of the sheer faces of Spearhead. Lacking any serious optical aids, I shot a couple of photos of these areas on the phone using maximum magnification, but no humans appear in these photos.

Mills Lake
McHenrys and Arrowhead
Ypsilon and Fairchild
Today’s beer
Mills Lake and beyond

I sat there for about an hour watching the world go by. The weather to the north looked to be turning nasty – rain showers were moving over the Mummy range. Even at 11,000′, my view to the west is blocked by the high peaks, and you don’t get much advance notice of storms rolling in. I figured chances were good I’d get rained on soon, so I packed up and headed down. In the end, the weather remained nice. I returned to the trailhead by a quarter to three.

Just another beautiful day in the Park.

Stone Lake and Upper Lake

Posted on August 13, 2026 by Dave

In north-central Indian Peaks Wilderness, in a high mountain valley bounded by Hiamovi Mountain, Cooper Peak, and the improbably named Ooh La La!, lie two lakes: Stone Lake and Upper Lake. I’m mildly amused by the name of the latter. My brain glitches a bit; it wants to add a word. Upper what lake? I’ve recently been to Upper Storm Lake, and I’ve visited Upper Crater Lake. Upper Storm Lake is above Storm Lake, and Upper Crater Lake is above two other Crater Lakes. Shouldn’t this one follow the pattern and be “Upper Stone Lake”?

I put this hike on my “possibles” list some time ago, but waffled back and forth between thinking it was a day hike and a backpacking trip. It’s only about 6.2 miles to Upper Lake, and I often make longer day hikes. But this one had me doubting myself. Typically, my destination lake is the high point of the hike. For this one, the trail passes over a saddle from one drainage to another. The trail climbs to 11,200′, then descends 700′ before a gentle climb to the lakes. By the time the hiker reaches the high point of the hike on the way back to the trailhead, this works out to nearly 4,000′ of total elevation gain in about 8 miles. So it’s a steep one.

Friday, August 7

The Watanga Lake trailhead (I’ve also seen it listed as the Roaring Fork trailhead) is at Arapaho Bay in Lake Granby. It’s about ten miles from US 34, and nine miles of that is dirt road. But the road is very well maintained, has no ruts, and isn’t a washboard road. I’ve driven the Lotus on it a couple of times before. The parking lot has room for maybe two dozen vehicles. On this August weekday morning, there were only four cars there when I arrived at 7:30 am.

Within a few minutes of hitting the trail, we are on the first steep section of the hike, climbing five hundred feet in a bit more than a third of a mile. In contrast, the next thousand feet of elevation gain takes nearly two miles, to the junction with the Roaring Fork trail. (I may be using the incorrect names; I’m assuming we’re on the Watanga Lake trail until that junction. And note that there seem to be many trails called the “Roaring Fork Trail”.) To this point, the trail was alongside Arapaho Creek.

At the trail junction, we make a right turn. After a few minutes, we reach the second steep lift of the hike, gaining another five hundred feet in four-tenths of a mile. The map shows a stream not far from the trail and crossing it at least once. This summer has been quite dry. From the junction until nearly as far as Stone Lake, there isn’t any water. I had plenty of water to get me to the lakes, but I always like to keep track of my water sources.

At the top of the climb, still more than a mile and a half from Stone Lake, the trail passes through a large meadow with expansive views to the south and east, and the dramatic peaks in the heart of Indian Peaks Wilderness are on glorious display. Well, that was mostly true today. The sky was cloudless, but not the deep blue I’m accustomed to when hiking above 11,000′. Today, everything is hazy due to distant wildfires.

After taking in the views from the meadow, the trail descends into Hell Canyon. Here, we come to the third steep section. On the way to Stone Lake, we’re going down this steep bit. We’ll have to go back up it on the return to the trailhead. The footing here is sometimes less than ideal. Trek poles definitely help. Again, we see a five hundred foot elevation change in about four-tenths of a mile.

From the trailhead to the meadow at the top of the hike, the trail moves through moderately dense forest. In Hell Canyon, the forest thins out considerably. In late morning, the sun felt pretty good, but on the return trip, in the heat of early afternoon, the sun was oppressive. I didn’t see any clouds until nearly 3 pm.

There isn’t much traffic on this trail. I met an older couple at the trail junction, and a group of eight backpackers passed me in the meadow. I met two more backpackers about a mile short of Stone Lake. I didn’t see anybody else until I returned to the trailhead. Because there’s not much traffic, the trail becomes less obvious. It’s never difficult to follow, but in the places where it goes through grassy fields, I imagine it would only take a few weeks without hikers for the trail to disappear.

Both Stone Lake and Upper Lake are gorgeous. They are not situated above treeline in a stark cirque, nor in forest with trees lining the shore. There is forest, but it’s sparse and set back from the grassy shore. Hiamovi Tower stands majestically above Upper Lake. There are many small ponds scattered about.

The trail from Stone Lake to Upper Lake isn’t obvious, but that doesn’t matter. I followed the wrong trail and ended up at a campsite. I just headed cross-country toward Upper Lake and was there in a few minutes. The campsite I stumbled upon was the only one I saw, but no doubt there are a few others that are just as nice.

I’ll come back here for a backpacking trip someday. There are two named lakes a short distance down Stone Lake’s outlet. These shouldn’t be too difficult to reach. I’d also like to head north from Upper Lake (toward the saddle just above the beer can in my “Today’s beer” photo) to visit an unnamed lake in the extreme southern part of Rocky Mountain National Park. I’d guess that lake gets very few visitors.

Grouse
Marten Peak
First sight of Stone Lake
Stone Lake
Upper Lake
Today’s beer
Upper Lake and Hiamovi Tower
The heart of Indian Peaks Wilderness

Segment	Distance	Elev Change	Time	Speed
Trailhead to Watanga Jct	2.5 mi	608’/mi	1:41	1.5 mph
Watanga Jct to Stone Lake	3.2 mi	254’/mi¹	2:39	1.2 mph
Stone Lake to Upper Lake	0.4 mi	245’/mi	0:20	1.2 mph
Trailhead to Upper Lake	6.1 mi	399’/mi¹	4:40	1.3 mph

Net elevation change, not gross ↩︎

New Host Running

Posted on August 5, 2026 by Dave

It looks like we’re up and running on the new host. If you have any bookmarks, you’ll need to update them. Hopefully this change didn’t cause too much trouble for my readers.

New Host

Posted on August 2, 2026 by Dave

My blog has been hosted by GoDaddy for the entire run. They’ve gotten a bit expensive for a personal blog, so I’m moving.

I don’t know when the move will be complete, but hopefully it’ll be done soon and will be smooth.

All that’s moving is the blog, any other content on my site will be gone. The new url for the blog, I think, will be http://grunschev.com.

See you on the other side.

Upper Storm Lake

Posted on July 30, 2026 by Dave

Jasper Creek drains the valley east of the Continental Divide, bounded by Mount Jasper on the north and Skyscraper Peak on the south. In this valley are found Jasper Lake, Devil’s Thumb Lake, Storm Lake, and Upper Storm Lake, as well as half a dozen or so unnamed lakes and ponds. Upper Storm Lake sits at 11,946′ above sea level, about a furlong from the Divide, and is the only named lake here that I haven’t visited yet. No, I won’t make you look that up: it’s an eighth of a mile.

Chad and I hiked to Storm Lake a couple of years ago, when I managed to lose one of my GoPro cameras. Before that trip, I thought it might be possible to reach the upper lake on a day hike, but once I got a good look at the terrain, I decided I’d need to spend a night camping at Jasper Lake in order to have a chance.

Sunday, July 26

As is usual, I struggled with how early we needed to get to the trailhead. There is limited parking at the trailhead. On weekends, this isn’t a big problem as they run a shuttle bus from Nederland High School to the Hessie trailhead. Since we won’t be back at the trailhead until Monday, the shuttle isn’t an option for us.

So it was a bad sign when we rolled up to the high school at seven to see the parking lot nearly full and a sign saying parking at both Hessie and Fourth of July trailheads is full. I told the volunteer we have a backcountry pass, and he got on the radio to a colleague. We were in luck: they had saved one parking spot at Hessie. Does that mean our timing was perfect?

It’s about five miles from the trailhead to Jasper Lake, but we were parked another quarter mile down the road. We arrived at our campsite just after eleven, so I was pretty slow. Carrying the backpack really slows me down. There are seven campsites at the lake. We camped on the west side, so I don’t know if any of the sites on the other side were occupied. One on the west had a tent on it when we got there, but it was gone by evening.

After setting up camp and eating lunch, we set forth for Upper Storm Lake. The climb up Jasper Creek is spectacular. You pass a series of cascades and falls surrounded by an abundance of wildflowers. We’re not above treeline yet, but the views are open. The trail peters out now and then, but navigation is fairly obvious until you get very close to Storm Lake and encounter some willow and krumholz.

Standing near the outlet of Storm Lake, the view of the terrain ahead is a bit discouraging. The north shore looks to be impassable due to a surplus of willow, and the south shore has a large rock outcropping we would have to go above. It looked like we’d have to climb a couple hundred feet to find a clear path.

Once above the south shore, things didn’t look much better. We’re standing in front of a large bowl. The two obvious routes are to head northwest and descend to the bottom of the bowl, and from there climb to Upper Storm Lake’s eastern shore. Alternatively, we could circle the bowl, heading west and curving north, climbing slightly the whole way. Neither looked particularly appealing. The lower route would mean dealing with vast fields of willow, while the upper meant crossing quite a bit of talus. We were hoping to find some grassy ramps to cross, but these were in short supply. We opted for the upper route.

Gordon led the way. He’s a faster hiker than me, and he has a knack for finding the easy path. Initially, he found some game trails to follow, but these disappeared fairly quickly. Our route, in the end, was about a mile long, with most of that being talus. It took us about two hours to reach Upper Storm Lake.

It started raining fifteen or twenty minutes before we reached the upper lake. Gordon put his raincoat on first. I was hoping he had the magic raincoat – the one that, as soon as you put it on, makes the rain stop. His coat was not magic. My coat did the trick last week, but I must have used all the magic, as today the rain continued. Oh well.

Any lake at or above 12,000′ is going to be stark. Upper Storm Lake is no exception. Dark, rain-laden clouds are coming over the Divide from the west, but the rain that falls is blowing in from the east. At the Divide, I’m accustomed to seeing layers of clouds that move in different directions. Now, the clouds all move in one direction, but the raindrops are going the wrong way. How does this work? The clouds aren’t very far above us; it didn’t seem possible for this to be happening. Just another of the wonders of weather along the Continental Divide.

We didn’t linger very long. The clouds grew more threatening every minute. Two things in particular were on my mind. First, the possibility of lightning. Above treeline, there’s nowhere to hide. Second, the rocks tend to get slippery when wet, and we had to cross the better part of a mile of talus. I mentioned the second to Gordon, but neither of us wanted to mention lightning for fear of tempting the godz. I never did see any lightning, but we did hear one peal of thunder.

The route down is typically easier to find than the route up. I often find an easier route. After surveying the options, we chose to return the way we came. Better the devil you know – the big patches of willow didn’t look any better from here. Gordon did a great job of route finding, minimizing the talus and maximizing the few grassy ramps. His balance amazes me; never a false step, never had to use his hands. I, on the other hand, managed to slip on wet rocks twice, landing unceremoniously on my ass. No harm, no foul.

Falls and Flowers
Jasper Lake
What’s with the orange needles?
Mossy
Storm Lake
Upper Storm Lake
Threatening clouds at Upper Storm Lake
Parry’s Primrose
Descending to Storm Lake

I made it back to camp a bit after five. I didn’t see anybody else at the lake, which surprised me. I was expecting all the campsites to be taken, but it very much looked like we were the only campers here.

The skies never did clear up. We had light rain off and on all night.

Monday, July 27

In the morning, I spent some time investigating the shoreline of Lake Jasper. It’s a reservoir, and with the drought conditions we’re having, the lake is at perhaps its lowest level, maybe twelve feet below its full capacity. It’s hard for me to judge when the water level went down. Some of this liminal space between the current shoreline and the usual one is dried and cracked, while in other areas it’s still muddy. Some plants are just starting to grow here, perhaps not more than a week old. Moose tracks are all over the place.

Years ago, I seldom saw moose. When I did see them, it was only on the western slope. Now, east or west of the Divide, I see moose on almost every hike. While exploring, I heard a distant splash. It took me a few minutes to spot him. He was swimming across the lake about a hundred yards away. When he got to the opposite shore, he shook himself like a dog, then began to frolic: jumping back and forth, splashing in the water. He was too far away to get a decent picture. We ran into him later, on the trail when we were hiking out.

It took me a bit longer to hike out than it did to get in. You’d think I’d have an easier time going downhill, but that’s seldom the case for me. Today I struggled. I think my age is catching up to me. I do just fine on day hikes, but the 35lb backpack kicks my ass. I have a permit for next month, but I’m wondering whether I’ll cancel it or not.

Moose frolic
Who are you looking at?

Despite my growing reluctance to carry a heavy backpack, the poor weather, and the difficult hike from Storm Lake to Upper Storm Lake, I had a good time. My irrational desire to always “bag” new lakes compels me to visit places that may not be worth the trip. I can’t recommend that hikers go to Upper Storm Lake, as “the juice isn’t worth the squeeze”, but I gained a warm sense of accomplishment by going there.

Pawnee Lake

Posted on July 29, 2026 by Dave

Pawnee Lake sits a stone’s throw west of the Continental Divide, in the heart of Indian Peaks Wilderness, surrounded by Blackfoot, Paiute Peak, Mount Toll, Pawnee Peak, and Shoshoni Peak. It can be reached from trailheads at Brainard Lake, east of the Divide. Taking that seven-mile route involves a 2000′ climb to Pawnee Pass, followed by a sketchy 1700′ descent to the lake, making for a total of 3700′ of climbing for the round trip.

Not being a big fan of sketchy steep descents and going uphill both ways to school, I chose to get there from the Monarch Lake trailhead. It’s eight miles and climbs about 2500′. The only negative to this option for me is the extra hour’s drive each way.

Friday, July 17

The hike to Pawnee Lake shares much of the route to Crater Lake. Instead of hiking the last mile to Crater Lake, make a left turn on the Pawnee Pass trail and hike about 1.7 miles to Pawnee Lake. On my trip to Crater Lake, I wasn’t sure about my park pass. I later learned that if you have an annual pass or lifetime pass, just leave it visible on the dash of your car.

The trail to Crater Lake gets a fair amount of traffic. Crater Lake is gorgeous, and there are a few nice falls and cascades along the trail. If the hike to Crater Lake was shorter, I think there’d be many more visitors. I encountered quite a few backpackers hiking out from a night or two at Crater Lake, but I didn’t meet anybody who had been to Pawnee Lake.

Shortly after passing the Buchanan Pass trail, I met a couple of moose. Some hikers I’d passed a few minutes before warned me they were up ahead. Still, I came up on them abruptly. As I came around a corner, one was on the trail about fifteen feet in front of me. I was expecting to see him, but he wasn’t expecting to see me. He took a couple of steps toward me before he left the trail. I took a few more steps before I saw the second guy. He, too, was startled, and his first steps were in my direction. Moose have a reputation for being unpredictable, but in my dozens of encounters with them, this is the first time I thought I might have to put a tree between us.

After hiking 6.3 miles of trail that’s shared with Crater Lake, there’s a final trail junction. Go to the left and hike a further 1.7 miles to Pawnee Lake, climbing about 800′. The trail affords some nice views of steep and jagged terrain of Cherokee, Lone Eagle Peak, and Mount George.

Not long after diverging from the Crater Lake trail, I met two women backpacking out. They had come over the Divide from Long Lake. I asked them about the descent from Pawnee Pass. They both shook their heads. They didn’t like it. I’m sure it’s easier with a day pack than a full backpack, but their few words supported my decision to avoid crossing the pass.

I sat by the lake for nearly an hour, and for half of that, it rained lightly, just enough to warrant the rain jacket. Before I left the lake, the clouds were breaking up, and I could see my shadow more often than not. By mid-afternoon, a quick, cool shower would have been welcomed.

On my hike out, at one of the falls that has a nice pool, I ran into four backpackers from Minnesota. They had just cooled off with a dip in the pool and suggested I do the same. They were doing a big loop: Brainard Lake north to Buchanan Pass trail, then on to Pawnee Lake and Pawnee Pass and back to Brainard Lake. The research they’d done recommended this counter-clockwise route rather than clockwise, as it’s better to go up the west side of Pawnee Pass than to go down it. More confirmation that I made the correct choice.

One other hiker I encountered deserves mention. We had a rather long conversation. He had a bit of an accent, but just a bit. Parting, I asked if he was Australian. He laughed and said I was one of the few who noticed. I said I wasn’t sure, as I can’t really discern the difference between Aussie and Kiwi accents. He told me he’s been in the US for more than a decade and spent some time in Britain. Then he gave me a perfect demonstration of the differences between Aussie, Kiwi, and South African accents.

I have no time-lapse video today. Even if I hadn’t forgotten it at home, the weather would have made for a boring video.

Moose action shot
Apache Peak and Lone Eagle Peak
Pawnee Lake
Today’s beer
Pawnee Lake pano
Pawnee Lake

Timetable

Segment	Distance	Elev Change	Time	Speed
Trailhead to Crater Lake Trail	1.6 mi	16’/mi	0:30	3.2 mph
Crater Lake Trail to Buchanan Pass Jct	1.7 mi	245’/mi	0:47	2.2 mph
Buchanan Pass Jct to Pawnee Pass Jct	3.0 mi	417’/mi	2:18	1.3 mph
Pawnee Pass Jct to Pawnee Lake	1.7 mi	482’/mi	1:10	1.5 mph
Trailhead to Pawnee Lake	8.0 mi	315’/mi	4:45	1.7 mph

Normandy Trip 10

Posted on July 28, 2026 by Dave

Tuesday, July 7

Today was a test of our tolerance for crowds.

Our reservations were for 10:30, and we expected it to take about an hour to get there, so we left at about 9:00. The Metro was packed with morning rush-hour traffic. Our route had us change from the Metro to the RER at Invalides station. At that station, there are gates on the platform such that both the train’s doors and the platform gates have to open. Unfortunately, the platform gates at our door were out of order, so we couldn’t debark, and the train wasn’t stopped long enough for us to push our way to a different door. So we had to go one stop further, then backtrack.

Our next task was to find our way to the RER train. We must have looked confused, as very quickly a young Parisienne asked if we needed help. More support for my belief that the French get a bad rap in the rudeness department.

Naturally, the RER train (a double-decker much like one I rode in Chicago) was packed, with almost all passengers staying on until the end of the line at Versailles. From the train to the palace, navigation was trivial – just follow the crowd.

Even being half an hour early, the line for 10:30 entry was quite long. We have to wait on a cobblestone plaza with no shade. We were still a few hours before the hottest time of day, but it was already getting uncomfortable. There are three lines here: one for the 10:00, our 10:30 line, and one for 11:00. You really must want to be at the head of the line if you’re willing to stand in the sun for an hour.

Once we were let inside, it was simply a matter of following the tide of the sea of humanity. But that’s the wrong metaphor. It’s more a river than a sea. We are swept along from room to room, covering more than half a mile, by my guess. After touring only a small part of the interior of the Palace, we went out into the gardens. The scale of the place is difficult to grasp.

I was somewhat prepared for what I saw. When I was in high school, I went on a trip to the Soviet Union with my Russian language teacher. There, we visited the Hermitage Museum, which is the second-largest art museum behind the Louvre. The Hermitage used to be the Tsar’s Winter Palace and was patterned after Versailles. We were told that if we looked at a work of art for 30 seconds, it would take 117 years to make it through. It may not have been 30 seconds or 117 years, but those numbers are close enough to give the scale.

One of the first rooms we visited was the Chapel. The King worshipped there every day he was in residence. The organ is still used today for special events and masses. I didn’t know until we left that there’s also a church on the site. It’s not as big as Notre Dame or the other medieval churches I’ve visited, but I guess when you’re King, having both a chapel and a church at your house is de rigueur.

The most famous room in the palace is the Gallery of Mirrors. It may be the most famous room in any palace. It’s not quite the length of a football field, but it’s narrower. The ceiling is decorated with thirty large panels depicting the important events in the Sun King’s reign. It is perhaps also best known for a few important political events. The Armistice of Versailles was signed here, ending the Franco-Prussian War of 1871. This document should not be confused with the Treaty of Versailles, which ended World War I. That wasn’t signed in the Gallery of Mirrors, but in a rail car, the Compiègne Wagon. What might Hitler have done to the Gallery of Mirrors had the treaty been signed there?

I can’t say if the Palace of Versailles has as much art in it as the Hermitage, but from what I can tell, the Hermitage is slightly larger. So, if you could access the entire palace and view each piece of art for a few seconds, you’d be done sometime around the start of the next century.

Royal Chapel ceiling
Royal Chapel altar and organ
Modern benefactors
Art isn’t just painting and sculpture. It’s furniture and floors, too.
The Hall of Mercury
Entering the Mirror Gallery
Mirror Gallery
The Queen’s Bedroom
“Siege of Yorktown” in the Gallery of Battles. Note that Washington isn’t the center of attention.

The best word I can think of to describe the place is “obscene”. This place, the building and the grounds, are built on the slavery of an entire nation. Each room is a work of art, filled with dozens of works of art. The ceilings are murals, the walls covered with paintings, the spaces filled with statues and ornate furnishings. Each object of art is the result of hundreds or thousands of hours of effort. It is mind-boggling. What sort of ego would one have to have to employ an entire nation to build, furnish, and maintain his house? Keep in mind, this wasn’t his only palace. The Louvre was one of his homes – it’s bigger than the Winter Palace, bigger than Versailles – and he had at least half a dozen others. Clearly, it’s good to be King.

The gardens are quite lovely, but we didn’t get to see them at their best. I don’t know if it has to do with the heat or if there are water conservation measures in effect, but none of the fountains were operating, and there weren’t many flowers in bloom. There was an abundance of gardeners at work, and the Chestnut Grove is undergoing restoration.

We ate lunch at one of the restaurants in the garden. We were a captive audience and paid prices worthy of an F1 race or an NFL game.

The Orangery
Note the palm trees
Fountain of the Fight of the Animals
Saturn Fountain (no, he’s not wearing a wrist watch – it’s a light)
Apollo’s Grotto

We left the grounds a bit before 2:00 and were back on the crowded RER train, followed by the crowded Metro. When I say “crowded”, I find it hard to avoid the cliché of “packed in like sardines”. It was bad enough that Genae said, “Never again!” and so we’ll be taking a taxi to the airport tomorrow rather than taking another ride on the RER, dragging our luggage.

Back at the hotel, I took a nap before we ventured out for dinner. At the restaurant we chose, our waiter had only a few words of English, but he was friendly and cheerful, and we had little difficulty communicating. Is this an advantage or disadvantage to picking a hotel that’s not in tourist central?

As I was writing my notes of the day, it was 10:00 pm and not yet sunset. We still haven’t gotten accustomed to climbing into bed before dark. We’re both ready to go home. It’s been a long trip, with most of our days packed with activities. I’d say we’re looking forward to some well-deserved relaxation, but Genae is already anticipating several loads of laundry and some grocery shopping because we have no produce in the house.

In any event, we’re off to the airport in the morning for a long airplane ride home.

Wednesday, July 8

Everything on the return trip went according to plan. The taxi, although much more expensive than mass transit, was quick and comfortable. We bought some sandwiches and snacks for the flight, anticipating we’d have service much like our flight over. They darken the cabin, even though it’s a daylight flight the entire way, and I don’t want to be “that guy” who has his reading light on, disturbing the other passengers, so I watched three movies (one good one, one bad one that was funny, and one that was just bad).

I wasn’t sure whether I’d like the guided tour of Normandy. If we hadn’t used our “free day” to go back to the invasion beaches, I would have been disappointed. But I enjoyed the places we visited that I’d never have come up with. We both enjoyed it enough that we’re considering going on another one in a year or two. Perhaps one that is more focused on scenic beauty than on churches and museums.

As to our self-guided visit to Paris, I enjoyed it, too. Having no (or few) specific plans and making it up as you go may not be the best way to see the world, but it works for me. There’s no direct correlation between this and hiking off trail, but I think both stimulate the same part of my brain. I seem to enjoy answering the questions “Where do I want to go next?” and “How do I get there?”

So, how thorough a job of seeing France did we do? Of the 20 most visited attractions (according to tripsavvy.com) in France, we managed to hit 5 of them:

3 – Eiffel Tower
4 – Château de Versailles
8 – National Museum of Natural History
11 – Omaha Beach American Cemetery
17 – Mont St-Michel

Not bad for a 10-day trip, I think.

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