One week after the hike to Chasm Lake with me being in a better shape and state my husband and I went hiking to the Rocky Mountain National Park again. As the sign says there are a number of lakes there. We chose to go to Ouzel Lake.
We were at the trailhead at 6.30 am. There was plenty of parking and too early for the entrance gate to be manned. Everyone just drove through without paying the fee. We had an annual pass to all national parks in the US, but there was no anyone at the entrance station to show it to.
The trail crosses several spectacular mountain streams with even more spectacular waterfalls. It provides good views on Longs Peak and Mt. Meeker. Most of the hike to Ouzel Lake is under the canopy of trees. The lake too is surrounded by mature firs.
The area is green and perfect for camping or a picnic. Understandably it is a popular trail. Expect to see plenty of people there. Mushroom abundance this year is unbelievable. Most of the mushrooms that we saw along the trail are edible and some are even tastier than the varieties available in supermarkets. Picking mushrooms in Rocky Mountain National Park is not legal, but the same mushrooms can be found in the surrounding areas.
These mushrooms called Amanita muscaria are ones of the deadliest in the world (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Amanita_muscaria). Their common name is fly agaric because of their ability to kill insects. For centuries Amanita muscaria was used as a natural insecticide before chemical ones were invented. Pieces of these mushrooms were placed into a saucer filled with water. The mushrooms attracted flies and other bugs that drank the poisoned water and fell asleep forever.
The site http://www.rockymountainhikingtrails.com/ouzel-lake.htm rates the hike as strenuous. For me it was an easier hike than to Chasm Lake because the elevation was only 10,000’ (3 km). The round trip took 6 hours with a short rest at the lake.
The walk through the forest brought back childhood memories when I spent summers in young pioneer camps in Russia. These camps were usually located in the woods. One summer the forests around the camp were full of wild blueberries. Our supervisors took us kids on foraging trips. We ate the berries right off the bushes and gathered them into baskets and jars. Excess berries were taken to the kitchen and the cook baked us blueberry pies.
During one of those trips I strayed away from my teammates and I did not notice that until it was too late. They were gone. I tried to retrace my steps. The area around me looked unfamiliar. I did not remember going through it. I came across some trail and followed it. The trail only took me deeper into the forest and disappeared. I returned and tried another trail with the same luck. Soon I found myself in the thicket with no trails and no idea where to go. I was 10 years old, a little unexperienced girl, and I did an irrational thing. I yelled ‘Help, help!’ as if I was expecting people to be nearby and to come to my rescue. We went to that forest many times and never met a single person there.
Miraculously, a male voice responded. He sounded like he was close to me. I peered through the branches of fir trees and did not see anyone. The man spoke again and told me to keep walking forward. Apparently he could see me and knew which way I was facing. That was intriguing. I looked up and there he was – the man in a camouflage uniform standing on an observation tower. After a few steps I came to a mesh wire fence barely visible between the dense trees. On the other side of the fence there were several more military men who looked at me with astonishment. I realized that I came to an army base hidden in that forest.
‘What are you doing here, girl?’ the men asked.
‘I am lost. I am from the pioneer camp called ‘The Lighthouse”. How do I get back?’
The man from the observation tower got down on the ground and took charge of the situation. He explained that I should walk along the fence to the gates. I did that and shortly was at the metal green gates with two large red starts on them. The gates opened and a military truck showed up. The driver told me to get in. He drove me to a village where he asked the locals if someone could help. A young man with a motorcycle volunteered to take me to the camp. It was a delightful ride, too short to enjoy it thoroughly. Oddly, nobody at the camp noticed that I was missing and was looking for me.