Last weekend was incredible! I did something new and went on one of the most spectacular hikes I’ve ever undertaken. Colorado is scenic to begin with, therefore it can be difficult really to rate hikes or excursions…but when it is the San Juan Mountains you visit, their scenery is (to employ a cliché) ABSOLUTELY STUNNING. But let me start from the beginning.
River Float
I drove out to Grand Junction, my old haunt, to meet up with some friends in a hiking group, Hike with Purpose. Our hike was scheduled Sunday morning, so I arrived last Saturday afternoon. That same day we went floating down the Colorado River: my first ever river float. They were four of us ladies—Jamie, Yoli, Cate, and I— from our awesome hiking group and we all linked our floaties together. We set off from Corn Lake in Clifton (just east of Grand Junction) and floated three miles till we disembarked at 29 Road.
The original plan was to float all the way down to Edgewater Brewery, but the two additional miles from 29 Road would’ve made our float time total at five hours! We were all long exhausted by then and therefore elected to end the float earlier. The main reason for this is that the mighty Colorado is dangerously low in many places. The first 1.5 miles we floated along, albeit very slowly (.8 mph!), were fine. For this first stretch we had the river to ourselves; only a few folks, via kayaks or paddle boards, passed us by. The water was deep enough for us river seekers to cruise easily along. We were all surprised to find the river pretty warm; I’d been anticipating cold mountain water. Such was not the case, but in the near 100 degree desert heat, the river was still refreshing. Many times we stalled on the water, and had to kick and paddle to get going again.
Yet the literal slow going was truly relaxing. The day was dry and flawless. At such a crawl pace you soaked in the surroundings: the lush trees bordering the river, the herons and ospreys soaring above, the chirp of crickets on shore. Mt. Garfield and the Grand Mesa, though receding as we drifted away from them, still dominated the eastern horizon. To my surprise and everyone’s relief, there was a noted absence of bugs, particularly mosquitos (my worst enemy).
As we floated not even at one mph, we could see sandbars, swifter currents, and shallower areas from a distance, so we all did our best to dodge and steer around any obstacles. At one point the river sped up so fast we were thrown along the bank, where a stick deflated one of our floaties! Luckily Yoli was able to jump on Cate’s float, and we continued to cruise. But eventually we began to encounter areas where the water was so low you risked scraping up your bottom on the rocks: I referred to these areas as the “cheese grater” which merited chuckles from my companions. “Uh oh!” was the exclamation that signaled such portions of the river.
As we felt our feet, then the floaties, start to drag, we’d stand up and then painfully pick our way over the rocks. By this time we’d caught up to a number of kayakers, paddle boarders and other floaties, all us resorting to walking and dragging our toys along. If you didn’t have water shoes (which I didn’t), making your way over slimy, slippery rocks was all the more difficult. It’s all too easy to twist or snap a bone in your foot with one misstep, so going slow was key. After walking one particularly long stretch, I might have thrown a few curse words, I’ll admit.
At this point we’d been on the river for nearly three hours, way much longer than we’d anticipated. Hot and exhausted, we sighed in relief once we saw the 29 Road bridge spanning the river; thus concluded our day on the water. No doubt in my mind I’ll float again, especially once the river runs high. It was super relaxing and such a different experience. 🙂
Blue Lakes
After a well earned meal at Edgewater Brewery and a hot shower to scour off the river gunk, we all went to bed, our hiking gear prepped. Up before sunrise, all hikers—20 total!— met just outside town to carpool. We left approximately at 6:40 am, heading south on Highway 50, destination Blue Lakes. Located in what is quite arguably Colorado’s most stunning mountain range, the San Juans, Blue Lakes is located near 14er Mt. Sneffels, within the Mt. Sneffels Wilderness. The are three lakes total, each on a different tier within a glacial basin. From GJ to the trailhead, the drive was over 2 hours, with a bathroom break/ coffee run in Montrose.
As the overwhelming majority of the area for our hiking excursion is so isolated—Hwy 50 to being up in the San Juans—there is scarce cell service. Jamie had planned ahead and so ensured we’d all be able to communicate via walkie talkies. Last time I used a walkie talkie I was a kid, so it was fun communicating back and forth with everyone. This mode of communication would prove invaluable once up in the mountains, especially with such a huge group to account for.
The first portion of Hwy 50 to Montrose is extremely arid, desolate, the land far reaching: it is Colorado’s “Badlands.” Initially the San Juans are a faint image against the southern horizon, but once in Montrose they become suddenly clear: imposing, jagged, impossible to ignore. Mt. Sneffels commands attention with it near perfect symmetrical rocky, northern face; it’s not uncommon for the peak to be featured on covers of CO mountaineering/ 14er books. South of Montrose the land gains in elevation, vegetation increases, and the endless space of the “Badlands” portion transforms into rocky bluffs and rolling hills.
At the tiny town of Ridgway we stopped briefly to regroup. The town itself and much of the surrounding area was the location for the 1969 western True Grit, starring none other than John Wayne. Today one can take “True Grit” tours of the various film settings. A truly charming town set amongst beautiful scenery, a proper exploration of Ridgway is on my list.
From Ridgway we turned onto Highway 62 for a few miles before heading south on County Road 7, where we wound our way up via the dusty dirt route toward the peaks. The trailhead itself is located in a lush pine forest. Plenty of other hikers and backpackers were already there, but we had arrived early enough to still park. After doing a head count, we headed out. The trail was steep and fast in a series of switchbacks for rapid elevation gain.
With such a large number of hikers, inevitably we began to separate into groups based on trekking speed. This is where the walkies talkies were handy, as we could alert each other as to our various locations on the trail. After winding though more forest, a meadow and several stream crossings, I was part of the first group of eight or so to reach lower Blue Lake, elevation 11,000 ft., three miles from the trail head.
And wow. Just WOW. The moment the forest opened up into the glacial basin, we were immediately rewarded by the vibrant blue waters of the lake. Pictures cannot truly capture just how pure a turquoise-teal the first lake is; the colors are too surreal to be true. We all babbled on just how beautiful the area was, with the peaks rising up like a fortress to protect the waters.
After having lunch by the shore, I radioed the others to tell them we were going to trek up to the middle Blue Lake. Entailing a steep climb right over the first lake, the trail continues through cool forest and flower laden meadows. As the trail gained elevation, the blue waters seemed only to intensify from a distance.
With a direct view over the first lake, I could see the others in our group had just arrived at the shore. Instructing the other hikers with me to pause and start waving, I radioed Jamie and told her to look up. She immediately spotted us and they all began to wave back, both of us having a good laugh over the walkie talkie before our little group resumed the trek.
After the short but steep climb, middle Blue Lake was…not blue at all. A much smaller body of water, it was a rather anti-climatic sight after the first lake. But the wildflowers surrounding the jagged mountain sides and absolute solitude more than made up for it. We were above tree line now, and the peaks looked even more rugged. With the last Blue Lake less than half a mile away, I and a few others continued on our way.
Upper Blue Lake didn’t match for blueness either, but at this point no one cared; the views alone were eye candy, elevation now 11,800 ft.
Just barely visible on the left hand side of the above picture, the Blue Lakes Pass trail zig zags up and over the mountain. Follow this route and on the other side the trail continues to Mt. Sneffels. I wanted to hike on, but that will be an adventure for another day. After spending about 15 minutes at the last lake, it was time to start heading down.
I communicated with the others to let them know we were now descending. The climb down from the upper lake to the lower lake was fast, but the rest of the trek down to the trailhead seemed longer than the ascent…hmm. Fatigue, perhaps? Or maybe just “hangry,” most likely a combination of both. Regarding route distance, the hike was 8.2 miles (round trip) for Upper Blue Lake, and 6.3 miles (round trip) for lower Blue Lake.
Once back at the trailhead, everyone was decidedly hungry. The original plan had been to go to Ouray Hot Springs, but it was already toasty outside, so we skipped the hot soak (this just gives me an excuse to visit the San Juans and Ouray again). We drove back to Ridgway and made our way south into the striking box canyon where Ouray is situated. After a delicious meal at Ouray Brewery (really good food and super fast service), it was time to head back home. We all arrived back in GJ in the evening, exhausted and dusty but proud of the amazing adventure we had. Such a trip with these folks makes me all the more grateful I am part of such a fantastic group. If you hiked with me this trip and you’re reading this: THANK YOU! For the wonderful experience and amazing memories, this mini trip is certainly a gem in my heart. I’m already anxious as to when I’ll visit the San Juans again…and finally be able to soak in those hot springs 🙂 Until my next outdoor adventure,
~LMC