Unprompted excursions often give way to the most sincere adventure. Beset with staggering senioritis, I decided to trade a Saturday of homework on campus for a Saturday amidst the peaking fall colors in the Gunnison area. Despite only being two days into autumn, snow had already fallen in areas above 8,000 feet. Kebler Pass, a high mountain pass near Crested Butte internationally renowned for its stunning autumn scenery, seemed like a worthy destination. Instead of taking the highway to Crested Butte to access Kebler, I opted to take Ohio Pass, another high mountain pass, which would shortcut me to the summit of Kebler.

Once on the dirt road that leads to the summit of Ohio Pass, I found myself frequently pulling over to capture the displays of autumnal aspen. Graced by fall’s first snow, it felt as if the seasons were colliding, the fiery aspen leaves grappling with the monochromatic wintry flurries.

The higher in elevation I drove, the muddier the dirt road became. By the time I reached the summit of Ohio Pass, the dirt road was no longer recognizable under the blanket of snow and slush. Ohio Pass overlooked a sea of aspen that crowded the lower parts of West Elk Wilderness. The Anthracite Range loomed directly overhead and a geologic feature named the Castles stood guard to the west.

The Anthracite Range and the Castles were partly obscured by bleak stratus clouds, imbuing the distant landscape with a contrasting austerity.

It took little time to reach Kebler Pass from the summit of Ohio Pass, and I headed west on Kebler. The early juxtaposition of the seasons drew tourists and photographers in like alcoholics to nature’s happy hour.

Roughly ten miles down the pass, I noticed signage that indicated a turn to the Lost Lake Campground. Intrigued, I followed this new and very narrow road beyond the campground and found parking for a trail. Perfect, I thought. “Three Lakes Trail No. 843”, a small sign displayed. With no other information and no idea where I was, I set off up the trail. The low-level stratus clouds still cramped the sky, making for a dreary way forward. Snow covered the ground all around, but lines of footprints offered a way forward in the maze of trees.

I assumed if I walked far enough, I’d encounter three lakes. Not bad detective work, if you ask me. Ascending gentle uphill, I quickly encountered the first body of water, Lost Lake. East Beckwith Mountain and its sub-summits reflected off the crystalline still water. Beneath the surface, muted scarlet-hued logs and rocks mingled with the reflections above. Sparkling yellow aspen peppered the tableau with dazzling intermittent color.

Stunned by this discovery, I circled most of the lake before continuing down the trail. It was a short jaunt before I reached a signed turnoff and noticed a short detour to an audible waterfall. Taking the detour, I paused at the falls for more pictures, allowing my feet to get wet in the cold water as I snapped away.

I reconnected with the trail and continued uphill toward the next lake. The trail was slick and required some caution, as it traversed the side of a steep slope. I reached another trail junction, only a quarter-mile shy of the second lake, and as I made my way up, the clouds grew thicker. By the time the second lake became visible, my surroundings were engulfed in fog. I had reached Dollar Lake, the furthest point in the small hike. I greeted the gloomy shores.

As the fog subtly thickened, an overwhelming silence enveloped my surroundings. Beheld by an eldritch stillness, I was utterly alone in the presence of the voiceless lake. Snow began to fall as I prepared to continue the journey. I could hear the patter of snow hitting the ground. Back on the main trail with the snow slowly subsiding, I hiked down several switchbacks to reach the largest of the three lakes, Lost Lake Slough.

On my way down, I could occasionally see Lost Lake Slough’s clear waters crowned by the topography to the north.Through aspen groves I trotted until I reached the shores of Lost Lake Slough. Instead of following the beaten path around the lake’s east side, I decided to trailblaze the lake’s western shores, which untouched snow indicated I was the first to recently explore. Thicket after wearisome thicket led me to the campground that was advertised on the Kebler Pass road.

The same peaks I could see from Lost Lake, littered now in sections with beautiful golden aspen, reflected off the waters of Lost Lake Slough.

Several photographers could be seen running around the shore trying to capture the spectacle. It had been a short excursion, but I felt immense satisfaction with the outcome as I took my last couple of pictures. I walked along the road to my car, bidding the Three Lakes Trail adieu.

The ease of the trail and the reward of the short hike make this an adventure I can recommend to just about anyone, outdoorsy or not.

Until next time, stay adventurous!