In the quiet corner of Colorado where Skyler and I attended college, early fall is an exciting time of year. That’s because this region, the high-altitude Gunnison Valley, is home to vast forests of aspen trees, which change to a golden-leafed glory in the first few weeks of autumn. With weather still warm enough for hiking, we decided to return to part of the West Elk Wilderness which had been a popular haunt of ours during our studies, yet which hasn’t previously featured on this blog. Our hike started just after sunrise on a Saturday.

The hike, an 8-plus mile jaunt up to the ominously named Storm Pass, started off a dirt lot near a pitted dirt road somewhere north-west of Gunnison and somewhere south-west of Crested Butte. The surrounding valley — a jagged, craggy weathering of fossilized ash and debris from an ancient volcano — has no official name on Forest Service maps. Instead, the area is more typically referenced to via the name of the waterway running through it: Mill Creek. Popular among locals and visitors alike for hiking and hunting, Mill Creek had first been introduced to us on a class field trip.

Storm Pass, on a ridge at the far end of the valley, would provide us not only with good views of the aspen groves on our ascent and descent, but also with an eye-level vista of The Castles, another nearby formation of that primordial volcanic ash.

We had a full day of clear (albeit cold) skies to work with. A gentle breeze brushed the aspen leaves to their trademark rustling… That said, I’ve professed my love for aspen leaves on this blog previously, and won’t belabor the point. The photography can speak for itself.

Following the first few miles, the trail took on a steep ascent.  Storm Pass was above treeline, after all, and we had to get above the foliage eventually. It was here that the transition from deciduous to evergreen started. What had been green-speckled-yellow changed to yellow-speckled-green as we ventured into more generic Colorado pine forest. Nonetheless, the altitude gain afforded us ample panoramas of the metamorphosis of hues.

Of course, even the pines began to fade out as we climbed higher. Upon reaching the end of the valley, there was a brief stint of shouldering through densely grown willows where the trail had nearly disappeared. After that it was switchbacks up the valley side for what felt like hours, especially as it was against freezing gusts coming off of the mountain tops.

The view from Storm Pass was as expected. That is, in a word, glorious. The Castles were the obvious spectacle, but the Anthracites made for a fine backdrop as well, and even some of Colorado’s most iconic peaks (The Maroon Bells, Snowmass, Pyramid) were visible in the distance. Though gorgeous, we did not take in the sights at Storm Pass for long. The wind had become such that we couldn’t even talk without our teeth being in pain from the cold. Sufficient pictures having been taken, we turned back to start our long return to the car.

Despite being downhill the whole way, the return hike was somehow more arduous than the uphill had been. At that degree of exhaustion, the passing trees and the regular steps became part of a zen-like stupefaction that cleared the mind of thoughts. There was just sleepiness and hunger.

Mostly hunger.

We travel light on day hikes.

Brown went back to green which then went back to gold. At the end of the day (the sun was beginning to set when we finally returned to the car) we had done a cool 16.3 miles. Our feet were numb, our heads aching, and our lungs in pain — and we were already planning our next hike.

Until next time…

~Sky & Ty

(Words courtesy of Tyler; Pictures by Skyler)