Vandercamp

I wrote this post quite a long time ago, but hesitated to post it. In honor of Father's Day, here it is. On Thursday, January 28th 2016, Nick and I received the news that Nick's father, Edward Vandercar, had died while snowshoeing in Schroon Lake, his home for the last 13 years.

I am writing this post to not only honor my late father-in-law, but to thank him for bringing Nick into this world. Without Eddie's lust for adventure and love of nature, Nick's and my own life would not be what it is today. I can't think of a more appropriate person to write about in my hiking blog.

My relationship with Eddie was limited, due to Nick and I moving to Colorado after only 4 months of dating, but the times I spent with him were always memorable.

Eddie lived in Schroon Lake, NY, a town of about 1600 year-round residents. His house was a modest little summer home, with a fire pit in the back, and a front yard with overgrown grass and wildflowers he refused to cut down. On our first trip there, Nick took me down the road to show me the "dump" he had collected dozens of beautiful antique glass bottles from, the phone numbers, names and addresses written all over the walls, and trinkets everywhere from Nick's childhood.

Nick being silly at the cabin.

Eddie's front yard.

That first trip, summer of 2011, Eddie led me, Nick and the dogs kayaking. Just a short walk down the street, and there we launched our boats. There was nothing particular captivating or exciting about this day, but even before Eddie's passing, I always remember this day as one of my favorite times with Nick. While Eddie was waves ahead of us, Nick would be cussing at Rowdy and Carat as they jumped on and off his kayak a thousand times. Eddie would slow down enough for us to catch up, and off he'd go again. I remember the strain in my arms from paddling so hard to try to keep pace with Nick and his dad, and then the relief when flowing back down the outlet we had conquered going up-stream. That night we drank beers around the fire, Nick and I drinking our cool craft beers, and Eddie drinking Keystone Light because he couldn't taste the difference, so why not?

Nick, Eddie, my mom and dad at the boat launch.

That summer we took another kayaking trip, this time my parents tagged along. This one was more slow paced, but I was very excited for my parents to visit and meet Nick's dad before we left for Colorado. Over the years, our dads tried to organize hiking trips together, but unfortunately never made it happen.

One of my favorite memories, was one that I wasn't even a part of. In August of 2013, we came home for a visit to Albany. I spent the day with friends while Nick drove up to Schroon by himself. Nick and his dad decided it was too windy to kayak, so Eddie suggested a short hike. A short hike turned into Pharoh Mountain, 8.5 miles round-trip, in which Nick hiked in steel-toed boots and tight jeans trying to keep up with his dad. Nick told me that once they reached the top, he had to undress down to his boxers while his soaking wet clothes dried on the rocks, and Eddie didn't break a sweat.

Our last hike with Eddie, was in October 2014, when Nick and I were in town to visit our wedding venue in Warrensburg, not far from Schroon. It was already getting pretty chilly up there in late October, and I remember being annoyed, though not surprised, that 25 degrees was not cold enough for Eddie to turn on the wood burning stove, the only source of heat he used in the house. In the winters, instead of turning on the heat upstairs, he would move his bedroom down into the living room where the wood burning stove was. I got dressed, drank my coffee and ate my oatmeal, all with a comforter wrapped around me until it was time to get in the car. We met up with one of Eddie's hiking friends, Sheri, and started up French Mountain. Long story short, we got lost and ended up climbing a steep service road for most of the hike (hence his nickname, "Lost Eddie"). Eddie and Sheri were way ahead of us, of course. All of that Colorado-hiking-above-elevation did us little good when trying to keep with Eddie! We eventually found our way to the top, taking some interesting detours back to the trail, and eventually finding where we went wrong.

Nick and Eddie on the trail.

Top of French Mountain.

Obviously, Nick has hundreds more memories of adventures with his dad, like biking across England when he was 12 and cross-country skiing at Lapland Lake, but I feel so fortunate to have had some of my own experiences with him. After meeting Eddie, you understand where Nick got his whacky tendencies from, as well as his natural ability to thrive outdoors.

Sitting in a cubicle on a gorgeous Wednesday afternoon is depressing, so I am going to recount my amazing weekend, and pretend I am still in the mountains.

For our wedding present, my uncle gifted Nick and I a weekend stay at his timeshare in Breckenridge, Colorado. An extremely generous gift, considering this past weekend was peek timing to see the autumn aspens in bloom. We took full advantage of this opportunity, and left for the mountains on early Friday afternoon. We did our usual tourist activities: window shopped, ate burgers, drank beer. We stopped in the local fly shop and chatted about where we planned to fish and what to use. The town of Breckenridge was lively and cheery this time of year. I highly suggest a visit, if only for the day, as it is only about an hour and a half from Denver.

We took it easy on Friday night because we wanted to get an early start on our hike Saturday morning. For once, we actually did. The Mohawk Lake trail was only a ten minute drive from our condo and very easy to find. There are two trailheads, one at the bottom of the hike, and one that can be driven to up a dirt road, knocking about two miles off your total climb. We opted for the longer route, as we wanted to get as much hiking in as possible. The beginning of the hike was a pleasant, easy trail under the cover of the trees (unfortunately, no aspens).

Once we made it to the second parking area, the hike took a steep turn, and requires a little bit of rock climbing. Luckily, there are plenty of stops along the way to take breaks and explore the abandoned mining cabins and equipment, as well as a beautiful waterfall.

Nick making our mark.

Huge mining structure makes Nick look teeny tiny.

Checking out the waterfall.

We finally made it to the lower Mohawk Lake, but decided to keep trucking to the upper lake to do some fishing a little further away from the crowds. However, the trail was not completely obvious, and we veered off the trail quite a bit. If you want to follow the trail the correct (and easier) way, go to the LEFT of the lower lake! Nick and I, went the opposite way, to the right. Since we were above the tree line at this point,  a lot of rock scrambling and climbing were required. I started to lose hope that we were headed the completely wrong way, when we saw another couple headed in the same direction. We trudged on, and eventually came to some mini-waterfalls and shallow pools, filled with cutthroats. We tried doing some fishing here, but they were spooked little fish, so we continued on to find the rest of the lakes we heard about. On our way up, we noticed a great deal of mountain goat poop and I was positive I would not see one. I love being wrong! We ran into a herd and saw approximately 12 throughout the day!

One of those is a little baby!

We made our way to the last lake. Overwhelming, amazing and 100% worth the journey up. Nick had a better fishing day than me (as usual), but I still had a fantastic time.

The only downside to the trip was that we only had a couple of hours to fish since we took our time making detours along the way. With the sun setting a lot earlier now, we decided to start packing up around 3:30.

We found the trail we should have taken up, and followed that down and down, until we came to the upper lake. It was so clear you could see fish swimming in it from 100 feet above. We will absolutely be coming back to fish that lake. I think next time will be a backpacking trip so we can take our time.

Being a champion above the upper Mohawk Lake.

Attempting to use our self-timer.

The next day, we packed up and headed to Blue River, which flows through the town of Silverthorne on our way home. No luck fishing, but too beautiful to care.

Perfect weekend!

September in Denver is an odd time of year. It can be unseasonably sweltering during the day, and at night, drop down to the 40s. These colder temperatures are more extreme in the mountains, which unfortunately means that camping season is over for us (until we buy better sleeping bags). So, we resort to day hikes and adventures closer to home.

I am fortunate enough to work for a company that operates Monday through Thursday, so I try to take advantage of my Fridays off. Sometimes these days are spent catching up on sleep, running errands. and other boring, adult stuff I don't have time for during the week. This Friday was not one of those days.

My sister, Marcy, also has a very flexible schedule and lives in Boulder, Colorado. Boulder is only about 45 minutes from my house, depending on traffic, so I woke up early and headed to her fairy cabin in the mountains. Marcy lives right at the base of Chautauqua Park in a cozy cabin surrounded by hummingbirds, wild flowers, sometimes bears and mountain lions! We ate breakfast made mostly out of vegetables from her garden, and walked the dogs over to Chautauqua.

Magical fairy cabin.

View of the Flatirons and Hazel, Marcy's dog.

Even though I have hiked trails at Chautauqua, numerous times, I had never climbed up to the Royal Arch. Marcy had done it before, but not in a long time, so we decided to try it out.

Marcy and Carat taking in the view of Boulder.

Rowdy and Carat lovin' the Arch.

The dogs certainly enjoyed themselves, as most of Chautauqua is a sight-and-sound area for dogs to run off-leash with a permit. A short but steep hike, 3.2 miles with 1,417' elevation gain, the Royal Arch is great hike to do if you don't have a lot of time but still want a good work out with a rewarding view.

Saturday was devoted to sleep and Sunday was devoted to fishing.

We had a family get together on Sunday morning, so we wanted to fish somewhere relatively close. Bear Creek is located in Morrison, Colorado, just past Red Rocks Park and Amphitheater. On the weekends, this area can be quite crowded with families enjoying the short nature trails. Nick and I were able to find a fairly secluded area and spent the day on the water. Not much luck, other than this little cutie Nick caught.

He was so small he fell through the holes in the net!

After slowly recovering from the adventures of the weekend, it's time to write about it!

This past weekend was spent at State Bridge in Bond, Colorado. State Bridge is an outdoor music venue in the middle of nowhere, right along the Colorado River. This was my third outing there, and it did not disappoint.

Nick and I headed out of Denver around noon on Saturday. The car ride was a little lonely, as we left the pups with my sister for the night. Dogs are not allowed in the venue, and my boys do not deal well with being left alone anywhere other than their house. The route to State Bridge is fairly easy, and the fun starts when you turn on the long dirt road that takes you to camping and the venue.

Nick being a road warrior.

Dirt road rule #1, open a road soda.

There are generally two camping areas for State Bridge. Rancho Del Rio, which is alongside the river with a beachy area and places to put in rafts and boats. This area has more of a festival vibe to it, with tents and sites right next to each other. That kind of camping isn't really my scene, but it is a nice place to relax during the day. The other camping option is the BLM sites up the road from the venue. There are more trees and private campsites at this location, which is where I have set up camp at the last two times I've come. A shuttle bus will pick you up and drop you off at the venue from both sites, as they do not want anyone walking on the windy road here.

This weekend, however, we stayed at a new *secret* campsite right on the water that my (other) sister's friends found. It was secluded and beautiful with plenty of space for the large group of campers. When Nick and I arrived, everyone else was on a rafting adventure down the river, so we took the opportunity to do some fishing. There were countless rafts and boats passing us, fishing and relaxing along the way. Neither of us had any luck that day, other than one big guy that came off my hook before I could nab him. I would definitely come here again to fish. It was still a very pleasant way to spend the evening.

Fishing along the Colorado River.

Bob's Easy Rocker = Home base.

That night, we all headed down to the venue for Jeff Austin Band and David Grisman Bluegrass Experience. Show was great, and being so far out in the middle of nowhere, the stars were unbelievable (our camera couldn't capture them though).

The next morning, we packed up and headed to the Pumphouse Recreation area up the road, back toward civilization. There were not as many boats passing here, and Nick was able to hook a couple rainbow trout, while I napped on the shore with my sister.

It’s Wednesday. Wishing the weekends were longer. Especially this past weekend, as we found an amazing backpacking/fishing spot just as summer is coming to an end, and it will be too cold to camp soon. Nick and I are not expert backpackers by any means, so our equipment is fairly limited to the summer season. But alas, we got one more backpacking trip in before it gets too cold for our 20 degree sleeping bags.

I found out about Grouse Lake from a friend who did a day hike there. After some research, I decided it sounded like the perfect overnight backpacking trip. Located in the Holy Cross Wilderness area, the Grouse Creek trail is only about 2 hours from Denver, and the trailhead is conveniently right off the I-70 exit.

Nick and I got quite a late start on Saturday (2 p.m.!!) due to us drinking the night before (whoops). But we rallied and started on the trail. The hike itself was pretty straightforward, despite what the ProTrails description led us to believe. What the online trail description failed to mention was the lack of maintenance on the trail. Fallen trees blocked our path numerous times on the way, and from the looks of the worn trails leading around the fallen trees, no trail maintenance has been done in quite some time. These obstructions required us to either walk all the way around the tree, climb over them, or clumsily crawl under them with our packs getting stuck along the way.

It was not the most aesthetically appealing hike we have been on, and it was fairly steep (3010’ elevation gain in 4.7 miles). However, we discovered there were wild raspberry bushes all along the trail, which made for some tasty trail snacks. We made the trip in about 3 hours and 15 minutes, which I am proud of, considering our heavy packs and the lack of energy from our post-hangovers.

But boy, the trek was worth it! We reached the “lake” at around 5:15 p.m. I say “lake” because it is really a large pond, about 2 feet deep, but absolutely breathtaking. As we arrived, fish were rising out of the water like crazy! We took this opportunity to start fishing immediately. Nick fished while I set up camp and hung out with dogs, and then we switched. We only brought one rod because Nick’s tenkara is broken at the moment. It was fun taking turns, one fished while the other took pictures and kept an eye out for hungry fishies. Nick didn’t have much luck that evening, but I caught my second fish ever! And what a beauty!

The next day, we woke up early and completed our usual morning camp routine: feeding the dogs, drinking hot cocoa mixed with coffee and lounging in the hammock. We took a short walk past the campsite, until the train ended. Nick and I then waded out into the middle of the pond and continued fishing into the early afternoon. I sunk into the mud, waste deep, in the surprisingly warm water, but I called it quits when the sun went behind the clouds.

Total fish caught: Nick - 7, Emily - 2. Most fun I’ve had fishing yet!

Did I mention we were the only people at the lake? There were several established campsites, but we were the only souls there. It was an incredibly peaceful and beautiful end to the summer.

Every time I go hiking, I say to myself "I should really start a hiking journal!" And then I do the hike, and completely forget. A blog is just more realistic, as I can do it on breaks at work, put up my pictures, and, although it is not as cool as journaling; typing is way faster than writing.

I wish I had started this years ago, as I have gone on countless, beautiful hikes in the past few years, usually accompanied by my favorite hiking partners; my husband, Nick, and our two dogs, Rowdy and Carat. My hope is that I can look back on these adventures, and also have recommendations for anyone looking for new hiking and camping spots.

I grew up hiking and camping in the Adirondacks and Catskill mountains in upstate New York, but never pursued the activity as often as I would have liked, until I met Nick. Once we left Albany, New York for Denver, Colorado, hiking and camping became our main source of fun. I am very fortunate to have Nick and my trusty canines to enjoy and explore the expansive landscapes of Colorado and beyond with.

As summer is winding down, I may try to backtrack and recount some memorable hikes while I wait for the impending doom of winter, and our outdoor activities become less frequent. Luckily, I live in Colorado, where winter can either be unbearably cold, or 70 degrees and sunny. So who knows what the next few months will bring!