Trip report: Yurt trip 2017

Welcome back. We just returned from a pre-Christmas trip to a yurt in the Colorado backcountry. There are many huts and yurts throughout the mountain west that can be booked for overnight stays, and this one, high in the Never Summer mountains, was inaccessible in winter except by ski and snowshoe.

We got off to a slow start on our departure day. Not only did packing take longer than anticipated, but one of our chickens had died in the night, and so we conducted a little burial ceremony before heading to the mountains. Three hours later we stopped at the visitor's center to get a daily car pass and use the restroom, and I put my contacts in so I could wear my ski goggles (which I have only previously used for chopping onions). Then we headed into the park.

While we'd originally meant to be here by 11, it was already 3pm. But once we'd gotten a couple of miles into the park, I realized I didn't have my glasses with me. We searched the car, but they must have been left at the visitor's center, 3 miles back down the slow, snowy road.

After retrieving them, we returned to the park and found the trailhead. I set up the camera on timer for a setting-off shot  and jogged into the picture as A. said, "It's going off... wait... I thought I saw a light. Okay, I see a light! Get ready. Wait, it went off. Did it go off? I don't see anything." And again. Eventually I realized I'd set the timer for 3 seconds instead of 10. So I have about 6 shots that look like this:



Final success:

The great thing about getting there late was that the light was really beautiful.

A.'s bag was very heavy and she soon tired of carrying it. Thankfully, we had brought a sled.

Rest break. It felt like we were in utter wilderness, but toward the end, I felt a familiar vibration -- my phone was getting a text. (I declined to check it.) The yurt was 3 miles from the parking lot, which doesn't sound like much but is exhausting in snow. The final third, steeply uphill, was a real challenge and we encouraged each other onward, taking turns pulling the sled, until we were totally depleted. Finally we made it to the yurt around 5:30, with the last light fading from the sky.

Melting snow for water

The yurts come with firewood, a propane stove and kitchen necessities. We lit a fire and began to unpack. I wanted to check that text I'd gotten earlier, but couldn't find my phone anywhere. We searched my pack and the bunk it was on. Uh oh. Had it been in my pocket, had it come out when I'd pulled my camera out to take a picture? It was supposed to start snowing during the night. Our only interval in which to search the trail was right now.

We looked around in the snow outside the yurt, then a bit farther. I'd received the text in the final section somewhere, but couldn't remember exactly where, so we went a little farther down the steep hill that had nearly killed us on way up. And then a little farther. A. said, "It was definitely somewhere after the turnoff; we should just go all the way down there and back." So we continued down through the frigid darkness, the trees motionless on either side of us. We held hands and told stories to take the edge off the spookiness. We stopped to investigate every spot of black on the trail, but they were only pine cones. After half an hour we saw the reflective paint on the gate glowing in our headlamps, and turned to climb back up. There was no phone (though we did see a mouse, which tunneled under the snow when we approached).

We made dinner and snuggled into bed. By morning the fire was long dead and it was freezing.

Making toast

It snowed all day on Saturday, perhaps a foot. We had quiet time reading or napping in our bunks, the only sound the snapping of the fire. It's impossible to properly describe the sense of peace and quiet up there.

After lunch, we went exploring.

Sled ride!

We went sledding on the steep final 1/2 mile of path up to the yurt. It was definitely the longest sled ride of my life. A. had a turn:

And we SHREDDED it! Literally -- the $10 Target sled was not made for 15 degree temps. 

One full pot of packed snow yielded about 1/4 pot of water.

While firewood was provided, it had to be split in order to make kindling, or even just to fit into the stove. This was a struggle for us but we managed to stay warm.

Taking a few minutes to enjoy the peaceful snowfall

That night A. got up a couple times in order to try to keep the fire going, but each time it was gone out and she had to start it anew. In the morning it was still freezing. However, the sun had come out and it was very beautiful.

Zero degrees!

We didn't have time for much the final morning besides breakfast, cleaning the yurt and replenishing the firewood. While A. was outside splitting wood, I heard a vibration. I was getting another text. When A. came in we searched the pack and bunk again and finally found my phone, in the hydration bladder sleeve of my pack. Yeah, right where it belongs. It still had 3/4 of its battery charge. Go little dumb-phone. I turned it off.

I had taped the sled up enough that it was functional to carry a light load, and we headed downhill through the glittering forest.

 Even downhill, snowshoeing is hard work

Unfortunately, the cracks in the sled acted like a cheese grater on the snow, and it kept filling all on its own from the bottom and I kept having to empty it

We had a final scare at the parking lot when A. pulled out her keys... and the car key wasn't on them. A little digging produced it, though. It had come off the ring. Glasses, phone, car key... hopefully that'll be the last of our lost objects for some time.

Merry Christmoose!

We made a final stop at the visitor's center, which has a lovely barbed-wire sculpture outside, and headed home to a warm and cozy Christmas Eve night.

To the yurt

A couple weeks ago I got to go on a snowshoeing trip to a yurt. It was pretty warm in Denver, but we were assured that there was plenty of snow up in the mountains. It was a looooong drive. But here we are, ready to start out.

Click on any picture for a larger version.

Hiking up the trail:

Cheeto break:

While there had only been maybe 4 inches of snow around the parking lot, there were a couple feet up at the yurt, which was just 2 miles uphill. Amazing. A yurt, by the way, is a circular-frame tent. Here is the inside of the yurt:

With a very small cooking area:

And bunks... my camera decided to make this photo super-saturated, and I left it that way:

We are eating pumpkin pancakes.

It was good to have six people there, because there was more work to do than on a typical camping trip... shoveling, feeding the woodstove, constantly gathering snow to melt for water... firewood was provided, but had to be split to smaller pieces. And since a two-burner propane stove with a full complement of dishes was provided, we had real meals, which meant lots of cooking and dish washing.

I have never needed to drink snowmelt before, and I have to say... snow looks pristine, but it is actually full of tiny bits of tree and dust and elk hairs.

Here are some photos of the surroundings, and of us having winter fun:

There was a rustic outhouse, which I took lots of pictures of, because it seemed like something out of a coffee-table book. About outhouses.

Here is my snow creation, and below it, Mike's:

Before hiking out.

As we started our hike out, we came upon a party with an injured skier. The skier was unable to walk and they were trying to tow her on a sled made out of skis, which wasn't working very well. We tried to help them reinforce the sled. Below, see the injured skier in background, her leg splinted with sticks, sleeping pad, and ace bandage, and "sled" with sticks and some small bits of twine in foreground. We had maybe a foot of duct tape amongst us. I don't usually bring duct tape if I'm only going to be 2 miles from the car... that's not too far to walk with a broken pack strap, right? (And come on, how often do you have to forge a sled out of three skis? I bet you've never even done it once.) We returned to the yurt to check the first aid box for tape, but it was filled with playing cards.

Tim and Mike carried out the packs of the injured skier and the person towing her. One member of our party, who was a nurse, stayed behind with the skiing party and I hiked down with Tim and Mike.

Our walk out was very beautiful. We hadn't gotten to see any scenery on the way in, the snow was so thick. Now the sun was out. Sort of.

As we were walking, some snowmobiles with a rescue sled came up. They brought the injured skier down and soon we were in the parking lot. However, in our tremendous foresight, we had left the keys for the vehicles with the people who had been onerously pulling the skier and were still a mile back. So we stood in the cold a while and waited for them to come down. The poor skier shivered and shivered in her rescue sled.

On the drive back down, we passed three cars that had skidded off the road. The first two were already being helped by emergency personnel. The last we found after dark, and first saw it as bright reflectors beaming back at us from the river, 20 feet below the road. We stopped near another a truck that had pulled over and asked if we should call 911. But another 45 minutes later, we still had no cell phone service, and pulled into a bar to ask to use their phone. We were told that 911 had already been called and that the two women who had been in the car were having a beer in the bar. This made me wonder what the poor person waiting by the river was doing. Or whether, perhaps, there was yet a fourth car off the road somewhere that we had missed.

We shall never know. The rest of the drive back to Denver was uneventful. I leave you with a photo taken on the drive out of the mountains, before the sun set...