My Wild and Wonderful Summer Part II

Early July: I still had about two weeks left to enjoy the Denver area before my scheduled return to Michigan and I filled it with some great backpacking trips, first with my boys and then with my friends.

The boys and I went to a place called Buchanan Pass Trailhead, up above Camp Dick on the Peak-to-Peak highway north of Ward, near Peaceful Valley.  We had camped near there several times when they were little, and I had been back once to this exact spot with Brad P. the summer before I started teaching, which would have been 2008 (I can remember because Obama got elected the first Fall I was a teacher).  I had also been near here once with my boys and Dave S. and his boys 3 years after that (I remember because I had just gotten a job at a new school, Denver School of the Arts, having flunked out of my original assignment at Bruce Randolf, and I was going to have/get to teach chemistry for the first time (which I hadn't thought about it since I took it in high school myself, and never really got the hang of to begin with) so I spent most of the trip quizzing Dave and his oldest son, Zach, about chemistry since they both knew it better than I.

Anyway, the great thing about this place is that it's still in the National Forest, so it's a camping free-for-all (no reservations required, camp pretty much wherever you wish, first come first served) yet it's right on the border of the Indian Peaks Wilderness (where you do need backcountry permits, and to tell rangers what 'zone' you'll be camping in) so you get the laissez faire camping with the proximity to the Wilderness Area for day hikes.

There are a couple ways to get to the trailhead.  There is a hiking trail and a 4WD road from Camp Dick, which we've always used before (about 5 miles, with +1000 ft elevation gain, always a pretty difficult slog for me with a full pack and I'm sure it hasn't gotten any easier in the last 8 yrs) and another 4WD road (Coney Flats Road) from nearby Beaver Reservoir.  My original hope was to drive all our gear up one or the other 4WD roads in Owen's pickup truck but both roads were still closed by gates on the evening of July 3 when we got up there.  Consequently we camped overnight near Beaver Reservoir (because that road, while the same distance, has less elevation change) and paired down our equipment to what we could pack and set off the morning of July 4.

We got to our base camp, the same site I had used with Brad 11 years previously, a real beauty!, and set up camp.  On the way in we had been eyeing Sawtooth Mountain, a fairly distinct peak we had previously called the shark fin until we looked up its real name.  We decided to attempt to summit that as a day trip the following day.  It turned out to be a heck of an adventure as we did some bushwacking to create a shortcut and then the trail disappeared under snow drifts and we had to find our own way again and then it was pretty windy when we got out of the trees and then we had to ascend a glacier to get to the divide and then we still had to climb the peak.  Somehow we eventually made it to the summit, and then we still had to get down!  Descending the glacier was a bit dicey, with an uncontrolled slide onto rocks below a very real danger.  Returning to camp we found that we had been visited by a bear because I had somehow mistakenly thought I didn't have to hang the cans of soup in the tree with the rest of the food because how could a bear smell food through a can?  Well apparently they 'can', or else they've learned some other way that cans hold food.  S/he also ripped a hole in our tent and left muddy footprints on my Thermarest though amazingly without ripping it.

The second notable thing we found on our return to camp was that Owen's buddy Luke had actually found us, in accord with our prearranged plan.  He hadn't been able to go up with us initially but said he might come join us Friday night.  So we told him we'd start looking for him at 7:00 pm at a certain bridge over the nearby river and sure enough he showed up!  Remember, this is 5 miles west of the nearest road and about 10,000 ft in elevation and he had nothing but a knapsack with 6 avocados and two giant bags of Slim Jims (he's on a special diet) and a thin sleeping bag (no pad!) and a small water bottle, which he consistently refused to refill.  Somehow he had convinced his mother to let him off at the trailhead and told her he'd be back in a couple days.  Did we ever do crazy stuff like that when we were that age?  (Answer: I suppose so).

The next day (Saturday) we all took another day hike up the valley stretching to the northwest in an attempt to reach the lakes at the head of the valley.  Again we lost the trail in snow and this time we had to climb over some giant boulder fields so we eventually broke for lunch before reaching our goal even though we had found a pretty nice lake to picnic at.  Afterward we returned to camp.  We packed back out to Owen's truck the following day and returned to civilization.

Heading in.  I estimate my pack was about 40 lbs, Max's was about 60 lbs, and Owen's was about 80 lbs, due to his insistence on carrying our 6 person tent all by himself the whole way, as some sort of penance for a mysterious absence the previous night leaving Max and myself to set up camp and make dinner (it later turned out he was trying to get a phone signal to update Luke about our whereabouts and plans).

Still on the way in.  This place is known as Coney Flats.  Sawtooth Mtn (which looks like a shark fin), our destination for the following day, is right over Max's head.

Checking for ticks after bushwacking to nearby rock ledges.

Lunch break out of the wind during our ascent of Sawtooth Mtn.

Looking back down the valley we'd been coming up.  The lunch break spot in the previous photo was down in those trees in the center.

We made it to the divide!

And now we've made it to the peak!

It was kind of windy up there.  I think that's Mt. Audubon, or at least part of the ridge leading up to it, over my shoulder, south of us.

Descending the glacier we had sort of climbed up in other folks' tracks without really considering the need and difficulty of coming back down.

The red arrow is approximately where we were camped.

This is what a bear does to a soup can.  We had three cans of soup.  The bear only dented and punctured the other two, which the boys ate anyway.  Bears apparently prefer Chicken Noodle.

The miraculous and fortunate appearance of Luke.

The next day's day hike up the valley to the northwest.

The lake where we stopped and picnicked.

On the way back to camp.

Playing some hearts.  I shot the moon!  I just realized those look like IV bags in the background, but really it's the gravity driven water filtration system I had just gotten Max at REI (see previous post).  Either that or I was actually in critical condition in the hospital and hallucinating all this.

Final campfire.

Packing up the next morning prior to return.

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So I got back to Mom's house from this trip on Sunday afternoon and I left again the next morning to meet Dave and Brad (who had flown out for some Dead shows in Boulder) for another epic backpacking trip.  This time we did a loop Dave knew about in the Buffalo Peaks Wilderness Area in the mountains between South Park and the Arkansas River valley.  It was another taxing hike in with full packs (especially since we got a late start) but we camped two nights in a beautiful spot and took a day hike the second day and hiked back out again the third day.

At the trailhead.  Brad, I think you're going to need a bigger pack than that.

Ah, the wildflowers were in abundance throughout my 4 weeks in Colorado.

On the way in, early evening, only Dave knows how far (and high) we still have to go to make camp.

Ignorance = Bliss

Ignorant no longer!

Rest for the weary.  Camp at last.

The next morning, planning our day hike.

At our destination, or at least our revised destination.

Back at camp Dave retrieves the beers he'd left to cool in the river.

Enjoying said beers.

Taking a break in the shade on the way out the next day.

We made it!  My only mishap was when I stepped on a rock while checking Google Maps on my phone to see how much farther we had to go to get to the car and twisted my ankle and fell off the trail and would have rolled into the river if I hadn't been stopped by some logs and brush.  Moral: Don't hike distracted!

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Mid July through August: Returning to home base (Mom's house) on Wed evening I had about 1 day to get ready to head back to Michigan, needing to leave Fri morning to break up the drive a bit (with an overnight at a Nebraska rest stop) and get to the Schroeder family residence in Davenport by Sat afternoon.  We were scheduled to all drive up to Sylvan Beach Sunday evening, arriving at the cottage the same day our annual renters had left.  But first Reid had plans for me involving a quick and fun jaunt around the John Deere golf classic, to which he had a couple of tickets.

The Schroeder family visit kicked off a season (about 6 weeks) of hosting which ultimately included some or all of about 8 families, comprising at least 15 adults, 11 children, and two dogs, some more than once.  It was really fun to share the place with so many wonderful people, seeing it anew through their eyes, from kids playing in the sand to adults enjoying cocktail hour on the patio to everyone frolicking in the waves.  Other fun activities included picking blueberries, kayaking on the White River, eating at Pickadell's, and biking on the Hart-Montague bike trail.  Thanks to all who came and visited me this summer!  Unfortunately, for some of this time my camera/phone was in the shop getting the screen replaced so I have limited pictures of some of my guests other than what they shared with me.

I also made a quick trip back to Denver by air for a long weekend at the end of August for Alan's son Matt's wedding.  It was a fun series of events culminating in a beautiful outdoor ceremony on a lovely evening but I don't have any pictures (yet) of that, either.

Leaving Mom's house.  Max had visited the previous evening for dinner and stayed overnight.

My neighbors at the I-80 rest stop just west of Omaha.

Myself and Reid at the John Deere golf classic.

Darcy was in N. Muskegon when we arrived.  A happy coincidence for an unfortunate reason: her mother had just died about a week earlier and she stayed on to help organize the memorial.

Reid manning the grill.

And Darcy joined us for dinner.

After dinner I was starting a beach fire while Darcy took a picture of the Schroeders.  While I was taking this picture of all of them, the fire caught in the dried beach grass behind me and I only barely turned around in time to notice it and frantically work to put it out.

Reid and Samuel

Ah, the kids are finally in bed.  Time for parents to relax.

Yet another 'beach' fire, but on the cliff, because the water was up to the bottom of the cliff and there was no beach.  In addition to being wary of setting all the beach grass on fire I also liked to put these fires close to the edge of the cliff so that the next time more cliff fell in the remains of the beach fire would go with it, leaving no mess!

Dinner at Buzz's Lakeside Inn.

Brad was able to come up and join us at the end of the week.

We took the classic walk down to the channel and back.  Note how high the lake is against the piers!

Yet another beach fire.  Look like there's s'more action happening.  Probably not the first of the summer and definitely not the last!

MORE OF THESE PICS HERE!

Next (with my phone/camera in the shop) I enjoyed seeing three of my cousins on my Uncle Ned's side, along with many of their family members and significant others.  I only have a few pictures of that wacky weekend though because I was reliant on others.  The occasion was memorable, though, for the arrival of Party Bird (aka Pink Floyd, aka "Pinky") who, despite an anchor (clearly inadequate) did some touring up and down the coast and eventually suffered some disembowling and deflating as a result.  Ultimately I was forced to carve up Pinky and repurpose some of her delightfully supple, sturdy, and pink plastic.  I've been able to save her head and wings, however, as leftovers for another year.  BTW, I want my future nom de fete to be "Party Bird".

Includes cup holders and a built-in ice chest!

All but one of Sarah's and Maggie's boys.

Party Bird takes to the seas!

Party Bird roosting on shore.  Pinky also.

 JUST A FEW MORE OF THESE PICS HERE.

Next I recovered with a preliminary visit from the Pechter family.  They were scouting in advance of a three-family rendezvous planned for a couple weeks later.

No explanation needed.

No explanation possible.

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As the Pechters were leaving, Greg Bumpus and his son Kayvon were arriving as part of a midwest tour/college sightseeing week.

Another nice dinner at Buzz's.

Pinky a bit bedraggled.

One night Greg treated me to a personal concert, playing guitar and singing songs, many of which are originals and date all the way back to our summer at Stanford together (along with Brad and Larry H.), and even before.  We uploaded several of them to a YouTube channel you can access here.

Next up was the quasi-annual tri-family gathering of Pechters, Ciemens and Weiss.  Because of my last couple of years in S. Korea we hadn't done this in a while and it was fun to see how much older the kids had gotten.  Less fun to look in the mirror and see how much older the adults had gotten!

Helene, Vivian, and Brad were the first to arrive.

Hammock time for Etta and Kendra

Glenn, Vivian, and Helene (with the drinking problem)

The previous folks joined by Kendra, John, and Brad

Kids in the sand.  Does it get any better?

Glad to see you got that problem under control, Helene!  A rare shot of Glenn's face not occluded by a camera.

John adding a little music to the evening.

Evenings which just go on and on this time of year.

Vivian, Helene, and Nancy, the facilitators.  Or is that 'enablers'?

Welcome to Fantasy Beach!

One couldn't ask for a more perfect afternoon.

Brad and Etta

Noah and Helene.

MORE OF THESE PICS HERE!

Next was the wedding weekend I mentioned in Denver (no pics yet, unfortunately), and when I returned to GRR (the airport in Grand Rapids) I picked up my friend Greg S. (from Tucson.  Attentive followers will remember him from the place I crashed several times and helped build a fence last winter although originally we met in New York in about 1985.)

Greg had been here before, but not in 30 years.  Originally from Toledo, he was taking in the sights, sounds, and feel of the midwest - so different from Tucson!

We visited the World's Largest Weathervane in Montague (mainly because you can't avoid it when you go to the grocery store).

And checked out some local antique shops.  Look, the Mona Lisa!

We also canoed to the Old Channel Inn, my first and only time this season.  Had to portage around the first bridge because of the high water.

The Old Channel

On the return.

Time for another beach fire!  When possible, actually on the beach.

With all the driftwood washing up this year, not to mention the annual dead and pruned branch production of the property, it's difficult to keep up with burning it all.

At least I got a picture of a souvenir huggie from the wedding!

Greg and I lucked out and got treated to a major storm blowing in.

It was interesting because the squall line ran east-west, which was clearly visible on the weather radar, stretching all the way across the lake from mid-Wisconsin to mid-Michigan.  Occasionally it dipped down south far enough to spatter us with some drops.

MORE OF THESE PICS HERE.

This is actually the second day I've been working on this post and once again I'm pooped.  I will take a break because I want to be able to do justice to the next post which will be about my kayaking trip to the Keweenaw Penninsula.

Until then!