Trip Report - Maroon Bells, White River National Forest

Despite the fact it’s been several days since my plane touched down in Orange County, and I left the Rocky Mountains behind, I’m still recovering from last week’s hiking excursion in the Maroon Bells, a breathtaking wilderness area outside of Aspen.  My calves are still cramped from the steep ascents.  My back is still contorted from carrying a 50-pound pack for four days.  My feet are just plain scary.  And my stomach still churns at the mere thought of ingesting any sort of backcountry food; I hope and pray I do not even have look at another Cliff bar, freeze-dried meal, or bag of trail mix for a very long time.  (Seriously, after living off that stuff for four days, even the thought of it makes me queasy.)

All complaining aside, it was an incredible trip.  Yes – it was tough.  We all pushed ourselves beyond our usual physical limits, and often questioned if we would even be able to make it any further.  (The 2,000 feet elevation gain on Day 3 was just a teensy more than we were bargaining for!)  But we did, and were rewarded with the privilege of finding ourselves in a remote, unspoiled paradise of almost indescribable magnificence. 

We saw lakes in shades of blue and turquoise that I didn’t know existed outside of paintings.  We walked through fields of wildflowers so vast, I could have sworn we had inadvertently stumbled upon the Elysian Fields.  Bursts of yellow, purple, and red stretched as far as the eye could see, juxtaposed against the steely gray of the distant mountains.  Everywhere we looked, we were in awe of the splendor before us.

We drank from babbling brooks. (Properly filtering the water, of course.)  We marveled at the stars.  We even hung out with a few hawks, deer, and pika.  At the risk of sounding overly hippy-dippy, we truly were able to commune with nature; it was inspiring and comforting at the same time.  (Before I lose you to thoughts of dreadlocks and drum circles, trust me; it wasn’t like that.)

So, I guess I’ll take my twisted back and newfound aversion to GORP in stride.  Every ache and pain was worth it.  I got my mountain fix for the summer.  I spent some quality time with friends, both new and old.  And I proved to myself that I am tough enough to make it four days in the unforgiving wilderness, with an incredibly heavy pack in tow.  I guess my only question is… what’s next?