The Sky Pond Adventure
It was not long before were were again in Estes Park, meandering through the mountains town almost on muscle-memory. The sun welcomed us to Starbucks in all its caffeine-saturated glory. We were quite satisfied, to say the least.
Today was the day. Sky Pond was in our future!
Fellow hikers greeted us kindly. Passing by Nymph lake, laden in the lily pads that come only with late summer, we began to recognize the details of our hikes in previous years. Upended trees, spontaneous streams, even the odd outcroppings welcomed us like old friends.
Perhaps we simply did not see the sign, but the trail dwindled rather suddenly. We were alone amidst a bare, rocky outcropping that rose treacherously out of a small pond. What to do?
Obviously, this would be a good time to look at a map. However, if you've been following the general thread of our tales, you'll be less-than-surprised to discover that these things are not always implemented according to plan. We spend much more time cackling and enjoying the view than thinking logically.
Now that the obvious has been clearly stated, we can move along.
Taking a short water break, we stumbled along the terrain only to stop, mouths agape, and stare in wonder.
And so it was that, mostly by accident, we came across Lake Haiyaha.
[**Please, say that five times fast. I dare you.**]
This lake is particularly rocky. There is no shore, per say, but rather a series of rocks that dip suddenly beneath the glaze of the lake. Navigating the edge is more like playing an especially dangerous game of leap-frog than it is walking a sandy beach.Out time there was spent in awe of the placid waters and unbelievably blue sky. The breeze was slight-- even the air was still cool in the morning sun. Snapping a few photos, the world was a canvas.
Of course, a willing model was never far away. All I need do was point and smile, and and my dear friend would be climbing a ledge or making ridiculous leaps above and around the rocky shore of Lake Haiyaha. Kindly, Jesus modeled location after location. His kindness, unfortunately, would cost him dearly.
After our brief detour, we headed back to the main trail and traversed through the Glacier Gorge cut and onto the trail headed for Sky Pond. This, again, was something inescapably familiar. The switchbacks were somehow manageable, the terrain not nearly the burden we recalled from our initial visit. The forest was damp and green, thick with foliage and the tread of boots on gravel.
Passing meadows and streams rich with memories now faded, Jesus and I finally came upon The Loch.
This is a vision for which I have no words to describe. Its vibrant landscape is etched forever in my heart. The Loch is home to memorable adventures and surprises-- it is a place of birdsong and laughter.
Here, Jesus and I exchanged joking glances.
"Wasn't that harder last time?"
"I thought so.. was that the end of the switchbacks?"
"Maybe? I was sure that should have taken longer..."
No. In our three-year journey, we've come to grips with the mountain. This trail was no less scenic and more than enough to fill our hearts, but our bodies were clearly ready for more of a challenge. And so we set off again.
Now, our family is a friendly one. We have made many of friends along these trails. Today, we would make friends of an entirely different species.Coming along the trail, we see from a distance a gentle doe grazing on the flora at her feet. If not for Suzie, I may have spent all day as a witness to her gentle spirit.
Wild is wild, though, and we let her eat in peace.
And finally, friends, we come to The Lake of Glass.
From her body springs a beautiful cascade, at her feet a small glacier. These falls are a wonder-- the waters comes to life as it tumbles over the dark rocks jutting out from the belly of the peak, trickling over a sea of stones before jettisoning once more over the peak into the wilderness below.
After a brief moment with the glacier it was decided that clambering along a snowy ridge is much more fun in July than it would be in December. The view of the valley below yielded a plethora of photographs deep in color and rich in heartsong. Only here, only at the foot of Sky Pond can we lose our breath to a vast swath of unadulterated blue sky.
The Lake of Glass is a marvel that has left us without words. Just laughter.
Here, in a bout of laughter, I begged Jesus for the perfect photo opportunity. With ideal lighting and a magnificent frame, I was sure to yield a picture worthy of the effort...right? I pleaded with him until he, ever so gracefully, made his way onto a particularly large rock that had freed itself from the surface of the lake. The first steps were full of confidence until my beautiful friend took a bit of a fall into the Lake of Glass.
Oh, the shame.
Smiling all the while, Jesus rescued his phone and himself from the waters. Just so grateful for his cosciousness, we laughed. Aside from the gashes he received as war wounds, the only injury suffered was a bruised ego.
Who needs pride on the mountain, right? Hopefully...not Jesus.
Sky Pond, our final destination, was worth the wait. Unlike the rest of the trail, we had never laid eyes on it before-- our initial adventure had left us too winded to manage it all the way.With a much-deserved rest for lunch and life, Jesus and I scrambled over the rocks and laid ourselves out in the sun, as if to soak in the magic of the moment, the mountain. We laughed and reminisced in the hour that passed. Serene.
Sky Pond was such a gift to us.
Positively magical.
We wandered down the train, meeting what we later labeled a Marmot. Yellow-bellied, to be precise. There are not the friendliest creatures-- though the look cuddly, the one we faced down seemed to have the disposition of a raccoon. That is to say...these are not especially pet-able. Don't be fooled by the soft-looking fur or the big brown eyes. Please.
At the end of our day, our hearts were rested. These mountains have brought us such joy. There are no words for the heartsong in this wild land. The purple mountains, in all their forested Majesty, welcomed us. Home, you know, is where the heart is. There is no place on earth that feels more like home than our mountains trail. The mountains rise in the west, old friends ushering us into its sacred heart.
Perhaps it was Mary Oliver who put is best;
"Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?"
Until we meet again, friends.
