A month in the life: Our secret spot

Arapaho National Forest, Colorado //

We didn’t sleep well.  Partially because the wind was relentless.  The roar through the pines was so ferocious that it caused us both anxiety.  The other factor at hand was fire danger.  Three new wildfires were sparked by dry lighting over the weekend and have quickly grown to several thousand acres.  They aren’t nearby, though we can see the smoke, but they are a reminder of how dry Colorado is this summer.  Mark and I agree that this is a location that offers us too few options to flee if a fire were to start anywhere between us and the highway at the base of the mountain.  There’s only one way out.  It’s through the forest and via a rugged road that can only be traversed at about five miles per hour.  With that, we decide to pack up and move elsewhere.

When we return to Highway 9, we once again scan our mental catalog for campsite options.  We could cross the highway and camp in the national forest opposite the mountain from where we just came.  But camping at 11,000’ isn’t my first choice.  We could go north to the expansive public lands surrounding Gore Pass and Rabbit Ears Pass.  But that means getting closer to the thick wildfire smoke.  Or we could head east to the Williams Fork Valley; a place we’ve spent many nights camping over the last five years that we’ve been full-time nomads.  The valley’s proximity to our work in Summit County keeps us coming back.  The fact that many of the camping options are below 9,000’ is an added bonus.  So back to Williams Fork we go.

We set our sights on a spot along the river that we’ve come to love.  When we first discovered it, it felt so wild and remote.  But over the years we’ve come to realize that it’s known by far more people than I would have guessed.  I can’t help but wonder if everyone who’s ever been there considers it their “secret spot” for when you’re there, it feels like there’s no one else around for miles.  That is until someone else shows up, startles you upon their arrival, and you think “wait, you know about this place too?”.  

Access to the shoreline is via a tunnel of shrubbery barely the width of a vehicle.  On the other side is one small place to park along the water’s edge.  However, on the other side of another, harder-to-see tunnel is a hidden gem of a campsite.  The second tunnel of shrubs feels like a secret passageway.  It’s the reward you get for looking a little deeper beyond what you see at face value.  

Getting to park right along the river’s edge feels vastly different from anywhere else we’ve camped in Colorado this summer.  All the trees, flowers, and shrubs along the water look healthy and hydrated.  The water itself offers a sense of life and vitality.  I realize that this is what I’ve been craving.  The heat, dust, and dried-out vegetation we’ve seen so much of this summer leaves one feeling on edge.  The landscape looks ripe for fire.  I know we’re not clear of fire danger here, but we’re in a far better position than we were on top of Williams Peak this morning.

After sunset, a shift in the wind brings smoke from the Elk, Grease, and Lee fires flooding into the valley.  The mountainside that stands a mile away in the distance fades in detail and becomes a grey outline of trees.  The smell of fire fills the air.  I’m grateful to feel out of harm’s way.  At the same time, my heart aches for all those whose homes and lives lie in the path of destruction.  

It’s time for rain.  Here’s hoping August monsoons find their way back to Colorado soon.