As I tossed a package of single-serving size guacamole into my shopping cart, I knew our chances were slim. It was Friday morning, and the popular neighboring campgrounds of Camp Dick and Peaceful Valley on the Middle St. Vrain are usually full by early Friday afternoon on most weekends.
But this was Labor Day weekend, guaranteed to be full earlier than usual.
I raced around the grocery store, wishing I had been able to get the shopping done the night before. Once through the checkout lane, I loaded my grocery bags of food, snacks and supplies into the Suburban along with 3 bags of ice.
At home I sorted the groceries, repacked bags and grabbed my cast iron skillet and utensils, paper towels and plates, condiments, and sanitizing wipes. Brogan, feeling mostly better after having missed an entire week of school due to a virus, helped me load up the Suburban.
I refilled Pepper Ann’s dog water bowl, Simone’s cat food bowl, tossed some hamster food into 3 cages, darted around the house collecting the last things needed for our hopefully 2-nite camping trip, and managed to get on the road by noon.
I sighed. Probably not early enough.
But the sun was out and it was a beautiful drive up the St. Vrain Canyon via Hwy 7 out of Lyons. As I left onto Hwy 72, I was glad to see the row of campers and loaded down vehicles ahead of us continue on elsewhere. Maybe we’d get a site at Camp Dick.
No fat chance.
I drove the loop twice, checking tags and watching for anyone loading up. Nothing.
The camp host gave me the ‘I’m sorry, Honey,’ look. “We’re full,” she said.
I scanned my mental map of the area, unwilling to go back down the mountain with all this gear without camping. We hadn’t been camping as a family yet this summer, and our calendar was full for September. This was our last chance.
“So is Olive Ridge the next closest campground?” I remembered seeing the campground symbol on my Rocky Mountain National Park (RMNP) map the day before, on Hwy 7, near Allenspark. I had never noticed it before.
“Yes, I talked to them about an hour ago, and they still have sites.”
Relieved, I listened carefully to her instructions on how to get there. There is no sign for it on Hwy 7 coming from the South (no wonder I had never noticed it,) but it was a mile and a half past Allenspark, on the left.
It didn’t take long to get to Olive Ridge, and I slowly drove the first loop. There was a guy in front of us, stopping every so often to collect temporary tags he had left at some camp sites. Having found the one he preferred, he was kind enough to let us know which ones looked good and were still available.
Brogan ran ahead, his stomach ache mysteriously gone, and flagged me down for site #8.
“It’s the only one available with a big tent pad that has lots of trees.”
He was right. I drove the loop, and one of the other loops, to double check our options. The campground’s 56 sites were all wooded with tall ponderosa pines and aspen trees, but most of the undergrowth had been cleared, so the sites felt open and offered little privacy from neighbors. Yes, even with options dwindling, I am picky!
So I paid for #8, and we got busy putting up our giant house tent. Normally, Doyle pitches the tent with our help, and drives in the tent stakes. It is a 2-person job at a minimum. But he was still at work, and wouldn’t be joining us until the evening.
Now age 12, Brogan is tall enough to help me get the job done. We picked our way around the young pines and slender aspens that grew close to the tent pad, along with small stickery raspberry vines. But the woods made the camp site cozy and semi-private.
Dark clouds were looming, so we hurried and secured the rainfly. Then we drove down to the Allenspark Fire Station and parked in front where if you have Verizon you can get 1 bar of cell service. You also get a perfect view of Chief’s Head and neighboring mountains.
I called Doyle and messaged my mom to let them know where we were. My parents would be bringing my sister and brother-in-law who were in from out of state for the weekend to see us the next day.
Back at the campground, thunder began rolling in the mountains nearby. Brogan and I quickly got the air mattresses and sleeping bags and camp chairs into the tent and vestibule.
Boom! B-O-O-O-M!
I winced at the thunderclaps as the storm passed low overhead.
While the rain poured we got the king and twin mattresses aired up inside the sleeping area, then snuggled down into our sleeping bags. I couldn’t think of a better way to spend the better part of an hour. We were warm and dry in our bags, and now that all of the work was done, I could relax and begin enjoying the weekend.
The rain cleared up just in time for dinner – flatbread pizzas in a cast iron skillet on our Coleman 2-burner stove. A bear locker was conveniently located near the picnic table. It made a really handy pantry.
We were visited by a sweet female brown Labrador retriever mix. She had gray around her muzzle, and the weight on her told me she enjoyed many a camp site meal. We thought she belonged to the camp host next door, but we learned that she belongs to a homeowner on a nearby property, and she visits the campground all summer.
We let her have a bit of flatbread crust.
It was growing dark, and the cool damp made me want a campfire. Our elevation was 8,350, quite a bit higher than Longmont’s 5000 feet. Not sure why I hadn’t grabbed a few logs out of Doyle’s Scout before heading up.
Just before dark, Doyle arrived with the firewood. I made him a pizza while he started the fire. We were able to enjoy it for a while before heading to bed early after a long day.
I slept well, and cooked a breakfast of hash browns, sausage and scrambled eggs served on a large tortilla. I learned long ago to wrap up breakfast in a tortilla to keep it warm. Eggs cool off remarkably fast in cold, morning mountain air.
Since we were camping for 2 nights instead of just our usual one, I was able to relax and enjoy the campsite instead of packing up. I had brought a stack of Backpacker magazines that I was behind on. Perfect campsite reading.
Around 11am, Mom and Dad arrived with Tiffany and Brian. It was fun to have them join us for the day. We ate sandwiches for lunch, then made the short drive to the Wild Basin RMNP entrance, and “hiked” to Copeland Falls. Very pretty.
After our nature walk, we headed into Allenspark to get some coffee while the afternoon rain shower passed through. The Tapestry of Life Coffee House has snacks, soups and sandwiches, coffee, beer and wine, and free wi-fi for customers.
Our camp site had a charcoal grill, so we drove a couple of miles to Meeker to pick up a small bag of charcoal. They were closing for the season on Labor Day, so she gave me 25% off.
Back at camp, we whiled away the late afternoon. I harangued Dad into entertaining us with a song on his harmonica.
Another rain shower passed through. Mom and Dad sat it out in the Jeep, while the rest of us dove into the tent.
Mom had brought bison burgers and bison hot dogs. As soon as the rain shower passed, and I got the grill going and Doyle stoked up the fire pit. After dinner, clouds were gathering again, so we moved on to some early S’mores.
Around 7pm, another rain shower began. Mom, Dad, Tiff and Brian headed home, and we relaxed in our tent and played a card game.
The rain cleared up, and we were able to enjoy the camp fire. We enjoyed using the free Star Chart app on my iPhone to see the constellations in the night sky.
As we were falling asleep, Brogan shared some observations from the day.
“Isn’t it neat how daddy long leg spiders have such tiny joints on their legs, but they work?”
I agreed that was pretty neat. I had never considered a daddy long leg spider’s “knees” before.
I slept well, but awoke to gray light and gusting winds. Hmm.
Breakfast was cereal. This year, instead of dragging out the Coleman coffee maker that takes forever and a ton of fuel to brew a pot of coffee, I decided to try Starbucks Via singles. I heated up the water and poured it over the powdered coffee, not expecting it to taste like much. I was pleasantly surprised. It tasted just like freshly brewed coffee.
The morning weather alternated between overcast with rain and partly sunny with drizzle. We alternated between camp fire reading and card games in the Suburban.
As I walked back from the vault toilet to our camp site in the partly sunny drizzle, I was surprised at how comfortable I felt. I had grown quite accustomed to sixty degrees in the damp woods.
Around noon, we gave up hoping it would clear up enough for the tent to dry out before packing it up. So we packed up a wet tent and the rest of our gear and headed down the mountain.
As I drove down the winding canyon road, I was buoyed by feelings of well-being and joy.
Despite the rain, our last minute Labor Day weekend camping trip had been a success. We camped some place new, and got to explore a new section of trail in RMNP. But best of all, there was time to relax with family and do nothing. It was wonderfully recharging.