In our last trip to the Indian Peaks Wilderness, Ty and I trekked alongside the roaring Cascade Creek to find the remote Mirror Lake and Crater Lake, two bodies of water nestled at the foot of the Continental Divide’s western flank. The trail had started near Lake Granby, a hotspot for recreation, and the third-largest body of water in Colorado. I returned to Lake Granby this last weekend with my friend Jesse, both of us keen for an adventure. Jesse and I drove beyond the trailhead I’d started from before, continuing along to the Roaring Fork trailhead at the terminus of the road.

Hitting the trail, we were immediately welcomed to the wilderness by steep switchbacks that guided us high above Lake Granby.

The trail gradually leveled out after a mile of struggle, where a small wooden bridge lead us to the northern side of the Roaring Fork River.

We continued northeast through the forest, paralleling the flowing water, which seemed more to murmur peacefully rather than roar.

Wildflowers increasingly peppered the forest floor, a colorful promise of sights to come.

Passing through some meadows, we navigated past two more footbridges and found ourselves at a fork in the trail.

Turning east, we abandoned the river, the trail now sharply rising up an onerous slope. We clambered along, painfully ascending over one thousand feet of elevation in the span of a mile.

In this uphill limbo, canopy-cover obscured all surrounding scenery. The punishing incline quickly leveled out as we reached the gates of hell: Mt. Irving Hale Pass. The surreal scenery did not bring Hades or infernos to mind; rather, we’d shortly be continuing our adventure by descending into Hell Canyon.

The precipitous mountains along the Continental Divide soared high above the ominously named canyon. We strolled through some meadows as we crossed the pass, all embellished with hundreds of wildflowers.

We slowed down to take in the scenery, astounded by the chromatic chaos.

Agreeing to sally forth after our pause, Jesse and I began our descent into Hell Canyon.

The downhill was a relief on our calves, and we eventually found ourselves on the northernmost boundary of the canyon.

Here, we rambled through a few more meadows, continuing northeast. One last uphill effort guarded the secluded Stone Lake.

The water was still and serene, but it wasn’t time for leisure quite yet; we additionally wanted to reach the upper lake. A small social trail lead us around the western shores of the water, and we bushwhacked uphill to continue to the next lake.

Though close in proximity, the day’s wear took a toll on every step we took. Finally reaching our objective for the day, I rushed around the upper lake’s southern banks, eager to capture the sublime lighting. Amidst my hurry, I found an incredible view of the lake, Hiamovi Mountain rising high to the water’s northwest, and the peak’s reflected counterpart on the lake’s surface. Rejoicing in the perfect scenery, we finally enjoyed a well-earned respite.

After our breather, we circled around the upper lake and returned to the lower lake.

Though storm clouds were rolling in, it was still warm enough to warrant a dip in the crisp water. The lake was rejuvenating and we spent a pleasant interim enjoying the soak.

As the clouds overhead darkened, we knew it was time to head back. As they say, it’s easier to get to hell than to escape it.

We began the five hundred foot uphill slog back to Mt. Irving Hale Pass. Having already gained over four thousand feet of elevation, the remaining acclivity demanded strife and effort. The fires of Hell burned at our legs, and my whole being felt sore. Nearing the pass, we encountered this purgatory’s final demon: a large moose.

She guarded the trail ahead, and with no way to circumvent her perch, we carefully approached her while monitoring for signs of aggression. As we inched closer, she would scurry further along the trail. This slowed our advance, but I was content with the additional caesuras in our uphill struggle. Eventually, the moose vamoosed up the steep canyon-side, and we carried onward to the pass.

Rain trickled down from the cumulonimbus clouds overhead, but the showers abated promptly as we worked our way down to the trail fork. The remaining five miles back to the car were a blur of dolor. We crossed back over the wooden bridges, and further down, my red Subaru signaled the end of our journey. It’d been a day of wonder and rewarding endeavor in the Indian Peaks Wilderness, and I look forward to a return to this beautiful area of Colorado.

Until next time my friends, stay adventurous!