An Abundance of Vastness

For the first time in three years, we did not go to the Pacific Northwest for the 4th of July. Instead, we went to Gunnison to see Nicole’s family. Jason had never been to Gunnison for on-season, and he found the crowds rather surprising.

On the morning of the 4th of July, we (Nicole, Jason, and Maia) got up at 6:30 and drove to Schofield Pass. Britt (Nicole’s Dad) informed us on Friday night that there’s an annual 1/3 marathon run from Gothic to Crested Butte, which is why we left so early. When we got up to Gothic at 7:30, the race organizers let us know that the road would shortly be closed until 9, so we had excellent timing.

From Gothic, we drove over the very narrow and dramatic Schofield Pass. We took Maia’s Toyota Highlander for the higher clearance, which was a good choice. The dirt road was sometimes fine, but sometimes very rough. We reached the summit at 10,707 feet and stopped to look at the two sticker-covered summit signs. From there, we dropped down into a meadow and parked at the West Maroon trailhead.

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One of the signs marking Schofield Pass (Photo/Jason Rafal)

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Starting off on the trail (Photo/Jason Rafal)

I had decided that we were going to hike Hasley Pass, which starts on the same trail as the West Maroon trail to Aspen. Part way up the trail, we took a fork to the left toward Hasley Pass.

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We hiked along a very full creek for the first part of the trail (Photo/Jason Rafal)

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There were lots of flowering plants (Photo/Jason Rafal)

There’s something truly remarkable about being surrounded by mountains and completely alone. After walking past a couple of people camping near the trailhead, we saw no one. When Jason and Maia split up from me so we could all hunt for the trail, it started reminding me of the epic landscape scenes in the Lord of the Rings. Just a couple of tiny dots of people against the massive mountains and the blue sky. I have never experienced that kind of vastness, and it was sublime, humbling, and completely gorgeous.

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Snow near the top of the pass (Photo/Rafal)

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Vastness (Photo/Jason Rafal)

Despite our best efforts, we did not find the return loop trail. We thought we had at one point, but it abruptly went off a cliff. Not sure what else to do, we picked our way down through the rocks and the skunk cabbage until we reached the lower trail we had come in on. As started back to the car, we started seeing groups of people just heading out for a hike. Getting up at 6 had been worth it for the solitude.

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Starting down the steep mountainside (Photo/Jason Rafal)

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Nicole and Maia pick their way through the skunk cabbage (Photo/Jason Rafal)

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Columbine flowers against a skyline of mountains (Photo/Nicole Harrison)

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Emerald Lake below Schofield Pass (Photo/Jason Rafal)

We spent the rest of the day eating, walking the dogs, and discussing Maia’s final cake decorating submission for the county competition. She was making a three-tiered cake, wedding style, with flowers and other intricacies. Inspired by our hike, we all decided that she should try to make columbines out of royal icing and put them on the cake. It’s a testament to her talent that this was possible (after searching google, we only found one other person who had done it).

Our other afternoon activity was making challah. Surprisingly, the final loaf was huge. Less surprising was that it was delicious.

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Maia provides scale for the giant challah loaf (Photo/Jason Rafal)

Instead of going to the fireworks, we stayed inside and watched the Fellowship of the Ring (we still had the music stuck in our heads).

On Sunday morning, we went up Taylor Canyon for one more hike. This was a heavily forested trail along a very full creek. The dogs were very excited to get out and run.

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The dogs enjoy freedom (Photo/Jason Rafal)

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A fallen tree reflected in a beaver pond (Photo/Jason Rafal)

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Tilly drinks water as if she was trying to catch fish in her mouth (Photo/Jason Rafal)

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The forrested trail (Photo/Nicole Harrison)

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A heart left behind by a beaver (Photo/Jason Rafal)

The trip was great, but the drive home was pretty rough. Maybe we shouldn’t drive to the mountains for 4th of July weekend.