Arriving at the parking lot, the choice this week seemed obvious:
Beartrap Fork. This hike is rather traditional at this time of
year when the snow is gone and there is still a fair amount of
sunlight. It is, however, one of the steeper, more strenuous
hikes
that we do during the season so we were wondering how Gary - who had
just returned from seeing his parents off at the airport and was
wearing flip-flops (or "thongs" as most of us older folks still catch
ourselves calling them) - would fare on this hike. Also, for the
second time this season (they
were on the June 9th hike
that was rained-out)
we were accompanied by Melissa and her husband
Andy: We figured that they either had poor memory, or
enjoyed the last hike
enough to brave another attempt.
Driving up-canyon we were surprised when we stopped at the nondescript
gate that marks the Beartrap Fork access road. Usually the
routine is this: "We should have seen the trailhead by
now...", followed by "Oops - that was Willow Fork so you'd better
turn
around..." and then, "Oh, there it was - STOP!!!"
Getting out, we started up the road, noticing that it had been graded
recently - but only for a few hundred feet. Diverting from the
road
to a less-traveled path we soon found ourselves walking along the
stream, making the occasional crossing.
Before too long, we reached the meadow which was its usual verdant self
-
complete with wildflowers in bloom and the occasional brush of stinging
nettle as noted by those of us that were wearing shorts.
Interestingly, while a fair quantity of water exists the meadow, the
flowing water itself quickly disappears - only to reappear on the other
side of the meadow where the canyon narrows again, a fact likely a
result of impermeable rock not too far below
the surface.
Beyond the meadow the trail steepens even more, passing intermittently
through tree and meadow giving the hiker a variety of blooming plants -
including a wide variety of Sticky Geranium, Mountain Paintbrush, and
the occasional Columbine. Eventually, the stream disappears once
again and the trail crosses, for the last time, over to the west side
of the drainage passing through a grove of quaking aspen and then
becomes less-distinct as it steepens still more before attaining the
ridge and crossing the Great Western trail.
Once on that portion of trail it is important that you keep an open ear
for the
mountain bikers that are whizzing along at fairly high speed and since
the trail is rather heavily warn these days, one must scramble
off to the side - preferably uphill - and let them go past as there is
simply no other way for them to pass you. Walking the distance
from the ridge at the top of Beartrap Fork we worked our way over to
the far end of the traverse at the top of "Red Lover's Leap" - a short
rocky section of steeply-ascending trail that bikers ride down only at
their peril! While we were making the traverse, Tim - who clearly
had more energy than I at that point - went to the top of the nearby
peak, later rejoining us.
In plenty of time for sunset, the rest of those who were planning to
reach the top had done so and we sat around munching our snacks, taking
the occasional picture and enjoying the scenery. Finally, as the
light warmed strongly marking the peak of the "golden" hour, Gary
rushed
off back toward in the direction of ridge to take a few more pictures
while the rest of us gradually gathered our things and started back in
that same direction.
Gordon, who chose to take it easy this week to assure that he'd be able
to hike another day, got a little ways past the meadow (about 2/3
of the way up) before deciding
to turn around. At this leisurely pace, he was able to look a bit
more carefully at the surroundings and take a few side-paths - no doubt
noticing things that the
rest of us had not spotted, including a Moose that required him to pick
an alternate route. Nearer the bottom (at approximately the point
where one encounters the survey marker that sticks up in the middle of
the trail) he decided to
follow an old road to see
where it went. Following this path, he came to a substantial and
nicely-culverted stream crossing at which the road went... nowhere -
and it had done so for some time... Hmmm...
Meanwhile, the rest of is were wandering back down the trail, reaching
the bottom in the dark. Contrary to our expectations, Gary in his
flip-flops, managed just fine and did not seem to have
bisected his feet with the abrading of their toe straps. At the
trailhead we took our obligatory group picture, headed down-canyon to
our
vehicles and went our separate ways.
