The Odessa-Fern Lake trail near Estes Park is a stunning destination for fall colors. (Joshua Berman, The Denver Post)
There is fall foliage. And then there's the Odessa-Fern Lake backpacking circuit in late September. Most years, this is the peak of Colorado's crispest, most spectacular, leaf-gasmic yellowness, and on this day, as I finished packing, cinching and preparing, the weather and the leaves were perfect.
This was a few years back, in our pre-children days. My wife and I were moving to Colorado after traveling abroad for nearly two years. In a last-ditch delay of reality (apartment, jobs, loans, kids — i.e., the opposite of traveling), my wife checked in to a yoga conference atthe YMCA of the Rockies near Estes Park, a stunning property surrounded on three sides byRocky Mountain National Park. We said goodbye, our first time parting since getting married. I walked out the cabin door, through a small herd of elk cows and calves, and into the wild.
Odessa and Fern Lakes are only two of many snowmelt basins connected by this loop trail, usually accessed at the Bear Lake Trailhead. The trip I chose was 18 miles long, a leisurely weekend walk between alpine trout ponds and diverse terrain.
In any given year, leaf color and duration depend on moisture, temperature and a host of other things, each of which changes constantly. On this trip, my "welcome home" backpacking gift to myself, all these factors combined in a perfect storm. For three days I witnessed an explosion of yellow that Vincent Van Gogh would have written home about. The days ranged from hot, blinding mountain sun to yak-wool cold in the mornings.
After so much hot, damp tropical air during our travels, the coolness of October's cusp cleaned me from the inside out. I walked up rocky ice ledges at 11,000 feet, then down to elk meadows, camping in whatever tamped-down nooks I found next to high-mountain lakes.
It was purifying and also affirming. The sheer beauty and possibility of that hike embodied all the reasons I'd decided to come here in the first place. Six years later, I don't have as much time to traipse around in the backcountry, but none of the reasons for being here have changed. The splashes of color outside my window this morning got me remembering my trip — and also wondering why my fellow Westerners love where they live. So I asked my friends for "one sentence, phrase, or word describing their favorite thing about living out West" and received a long list of reasons:
Authenticity...freedom...space...14,000 feet...big sky...stars at night, zero humidity, open spaces...more space than people, space!!!were the first responses that came in.
Mountains, added someone else.Weather. Pioneer spirit. Enlightened minds.
I haven't been back to Odessa and Fern Lakes, but I remember how perfect the temperature was, and how it was dry and clear each night. I didn't even bother with my tent fly.
Access. Natural beauty. Outdoor activities.
On my third morning, I crouched near a creek and watched a greenback cutthroat trout flit about under a perfect glass surface.
Stoked.
Back roads that end abruptly, suddenly turn from paved to dirt and back again; signs that read, "Watch for Cows."
I pointed my boots downhill, and as I hiked out, sun-colored aspen medallions rained from above and shone from below, a carpet underfoot and a golden tunnel all around.
Joshua Berman is the author of "Moon Nicaragua" and "Moon Belize." He can be found on the Web atJoshuaBerman.netand on Twitter at@tranquilotravel