A few nights in the South San Juans

[Dan]

The SSJs are one of my favorite places to spend time in Colorado. They aren’t spectacular to photograph, but the terrain is very accessible, meandering above and below timberline with plenty of lakes and creeks, giving seemingly unlimited options for on- and off-trail routes. Also, it’s an isolated place, and normally almost empty. I can typically go multiple days without seeing anyone. And the wilderness is teeming with elk. On one occasion, I literally ran into a herd of more than 100 elk surrounding a lake, and they were guarding their babies so territorially that I ended up backtracking rather than trying to push my way through, even with a dog. Something I never experienced before, or since. Unfortunately, this was the only time I was able to get to this wilderness this summer, and it coincided with the beginning of bow-hunting season, which was bad timing. Just looking at the trucks and horse trailers in the trailhead, I knew it was going to be a very different experience than usual.

I experimented with a trailhead that was new to me, and it involved a steep approach of almost 2,800′ over three miles through aspens and then pines.

I passed several parties of hunters on the climb, all taking breaks. Almost all had come from Texas and were struggling with heavy packs and altitude. I talked with a couple of them at the top, and they complained that the climb had taken them 5.5 hours. At twice their age, and not in particularly good shape after COVID earlier in the summer, I had climbed it in a little over two hours at an easy but consistent pace. I’m not bragging, believe me … I’m not fast. But what a confirmation of the importance of pack weight.

Still, after a long drive and the climb, I was fatigued and wanted to camp. Unfortunately, there were tents seemingly everywhere, including multiple parties at the lake that I had intended to set up. So I went off-trail to a nice little valley I’ve visited before and camped there. Later I noticed a couple of tents a bit farther down the valley, I couldn’t believe it.

The next morning, I continued above timberline past some lakes that I have visited many times in the past, camping there in privacy and solitude.

Huge tents everywhere, many with horses tethered. Three or four valleys had been colonized by outfitters, with multiple white Red Cross-style tents and horses grazing everywhere. Still, it’s a beautiful place, and I tried to enjoy my walk over rolling terrain. Don’t get me wrong, I understand that everyone has the right to use the wilderness, and they bought their tags. It just feels a little invasive to have this massive influx of out of state visitors for one or two weeks.

The commercialization of wilderness areas by outfitters, and free-range ranchers too, for that matter, seems to increase each year, and I have observed them abusing their privileges on multiple occasions … leaving gigantic tents in place for weeks on end, building structures and trails, littering, burning trash in pits, livestock destroying riparian corridors. Being good stewards of the wilderness is secondary to making a buck, and I sometimes wonder why they need to have access to the relatively small area that is set aside as wilderness (compared to the relatively huge amount of forest service and BLM land potentially available to them). But perhaps these are topics for separate forum threads. :-)

Instead of going to the lake I had planned to visit for my second night, I decided to explore a different off-trail area I had never visited before. It is a large plateau accessed via a narrow valley, and it seems sort of nondescript on the map, without a single named creek, lake, or peak. It was a good choice, because it turned out to be a beautiful place.

I even found a stocked lake at which to camp. I think that the Fish and Wildlife pilots will sometimes just dump a load of fry in some isolated unnamed lake, just for fun. I set up my tent just in time to weather a hailstorm.

After the storm, I climbed a little rise, and enjoyed the views in various directions.

That day really improved my mood and saved the trip. Of course, afterwards I had to retrace my steps and run the gauntlet of hunters and outfitters for a couple of days on the return, but it was uneventful. And I didn’t really take too many photos, except for the shocking final trailhead shot.

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