Windswept at Andrews Tarn in Rocky Mountain National Park

Yesterday was Winter Solstice. Over the last 48 hours or so, on the last day of Fall, we have been experiencing a winter wind storm with steady nonstop high winds and incredibly forceful gusts. The kind of wind that if you were a pica up in the tundra, you would want to be deep in your little cozy hole, far below the surface, surrounded by lots of dry flowers and grasses, curled up in a tight ball, fast sleep with visions of sugar-plums dancing in your head, while the wind ravaged those poor little tundra plants at the surface. It’s the kind of wind that sculptures bristlecone pine trees into marvelous twisted living art. The kind of wind that is so forceful it inspires awe.  

​Having completed our shakedown trek to Sky Pond two weeks earlier, my brother and I felt ready to take on winter as it is on the east side of the Divide. So, late in the week last week we decided to head to Andrews Glacier, one of the eight named glaciers in Rocky Mountain National Park. Andrews Glacier sits between Taylor Peak to the south and Otis Peak to the north. Andrews Tarn is nestled at the base of the Andrews Glacier which, over the centuries, carved out a very high hanging valley that sits on the other side of The Sharkstooth Ridge from Sky Pond.

We were perhaps a little casual getting to the Glacier Gorge parking lot that had nearly filled up. I had picked Thursday for our trek because the weather report I had seen several days earlier showed wide isobars indicating to me lower wind speeds, but I had not checked the weather map as we approached our day and as we stepped out the car in the parking lot, the wind was strong and steady, I had to push my door open against the strong winds. We quickly shouldered our packs and headed for the trail. Once in the trees, the constant sound of the wind stayed above us.

With just 7 days before the winter solstice, the sun was low, casting long shadows through the trees. We had not received any substantial snowfall but instead a series of light snow days had accumulated into the start of a decent snowpack. The snow on the trail was soft and I left my trail spikes in my pack.  

Heading back up into the Loch Vale, we saw a group of snowshoers making a first trek up Icy Brook. We passed a number of people already heading down. "Get ready to be sand blasted," someone said on their way by. That was to be expected and indeed, once at the lake, we had to lean into our forward motion. I quickly realized the wind wasn't going to let me across the icy Loch without spikes on my feet.

Once across the lake and back in the trees, however, the snow became too difficult for walking without the use of snowshoes. The air temperature was cold, but not bitter. We both wore mitten style gloves that could be pulled back to expose the fingers. It was cold enough that you didn't want the fingers unprotected for very long, just long enough to make the switch from spikes to snowshoes. 

Still, it was warm enough that as we worked our way up, I would occasionally pull off my cap off my head to regulate my body temperature. Once I cooled down enough, the cap went back on. We continued up the Sky Pond trail until crossing on the footbridge that spans Andrews Creek, and then branched off the main trail and began heading into the Andrews Creek drainage.  

There was only one set of tracks which we followed for a little while, but then they began to wander into several directions as if confused about where to go. We followed a set until they ended, then we just kept going with Kip breaking trail. It takes tremendous more work to break trail than to follow and I was glad to keep him up ahead in my camera frame.

Our route ended up taking us out of the valley bottom where the summer trail was likely, but we were able to reach a spot where we could look across the valley to Timberline Falls. The sun rays were shining through the snow blowing off of the upper basin that holds Lake of Glass and Sky Pond. 

We turned back into the Andrews basin contouring our way over until we eventually encountered the trail. However, most of the trail remained covered with snow, so Kip carefully navigated the snow fields staying away from the deep holes that a leg can fall into between snow covered boulders.  

Our late start was starting to come into play as we weighed our progress with the time of day. We had worked our way far enough up the basin that we could now see the north side of The Sharkstooth. We deemed there would enough time to make it to the Tarn, so we continued our way up the final headwall. 

Back out into the open, we were subjected to sudden blast of winds that seem to come from any direction. But for the most part, they didn't last long and we kept our upward movement. 

The snow remained soft and we were aware that, in certain places, there was the potential for creating a small snow slide, so we stayed near the trees until we ascertained the small ridge that led up to the Tarn. That was the last stretch, and it proved to be a challenge. 

The wind was steady at this point and the snow, even on the crest of the ridge, was fairly deep and sugary. Every time Kip would attempt a big step up, the snow underneath slid and he would loose his footing. The day of breaking trail had taken a toll and making progress became frustrating. Having taken the easier task of following for most of the day, I offered to make an attempt to break the path up this final stretch. I jammed the toe of my snowshoes deep into the snow and pushed down trying to make a step, which worked most of the time. Slow progress with rests kept us moving up and we finally made it to The Tarn. Our hard efforts were rewarded with the strongest, most forceful winds of the day. The wind was ferocious. There would be no lingering for afternoon snacks here. I quickly moved into a position to snap a few photos that I hoped would turn out, then we carefully worked our way back down out of the blast.

Once down into the treeline, we did not follow our tracks out, but choose instead to stay in the basin until we reached the Sky Pond trail, completing our loop. Our legs were tired, but we knew darkness was approaching quickly. We barely beat the darkness back to the parking lot and found that we were the last car in the lot. Cheers went up at what had turned into an adventurous day.

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