Trail Ridge Road to Stagecoach State Park
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Time to say goodbye to the incredible Rocky Mountain National Park. All week I’d been hoping Trail Ridge Road would open up before we left. Just before we rolled out of the campground, I gave the park status line one last call. Still closed. As our final act in the park, we swung by Sheep Lakes to check for any Bighorn sheep action, and we hit jackpot. Six of them were down by the lake: four rams and two ewes, licking the mineral-rich mud for nutrients. While we were sheep watching near a park volunteer, I overheard something on their radio: Trail Ridge Road is OPEN. Unreal timing. If those sheep hadn’t been there, we’d have already been on the long drive around the park.
Sheep Lakes
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One ram had his fill and wandered toward the road. The volunteers stopped traffic as the others gradually followed, except for two who lingered at the lake. Then came the roadside indecision: one ram stepped into the road… then changed his mind and loitered a bit longer. On the next attempt to cross, he returned for headbutting and scuffling right in the middle of the road. Pretty sure I finally understand the phrase “looking sheepishly”—I caught that exact look from the ram who backed down.
After 20 minutes of these shenanigans, two brave volunteers slowly herded the ram trio back toward the hillside (the ewe had long since crossed the road like a civilized park-goer). We hopped in the car and headed up the now open Trail Ridge Road—America’s highest continuous paved road, climbing over 12,000 feet with wide-open alpine views and patches of snow still hanging on.
We stopped at a few overlooks and did a short 1 mile hike to a viewpoint. On the way back down the western side, we spotted two Bighorns on a snowy slope. Once back in the valley, we swung by the Holzwarth Historic Site, an old 1920s dude ranch with a few preserved cabins and barn structures.
Before exiting the park, we saw two moose near the road. Much of the west side shows fire damage from recent years with plenty of standing dead trees, but also signs of new growth pushing through. Nature doing its thing.
From there, we made the drive to Stagecoach State Park. After setting up camp, we walked over to the marina to check things out. The guy running the shop told us ice cream was his number one seller, so naturally we contributed to the statistic. When Danny mentioned putting the kayaks in the next day, he cautioned that the lake can turn quickly if the wind picks up and handed him a bright orange whistle just in case.
Later, we drove over to Stagecoach Dam. The reservoir stretched wide behind it, calm for the moment but clearly capable of changing moods. A marmot perched near the rocks along the dam, watching us as we took in the view. A quiet evening to close out a very full week in the mountains.
After 20 minutes of these shenanigans, two brave volunteers slowly herded the ram trio back toward the hillside (the ewe had long since crossed the road like a civilized park-goer). We hopped in the car and headed up the now open Trail Ridge Road—America’s highest continuous paved road, climbing over 12,000 feet with wide-open alpine views and patches of snow still hanging on.
We stopped at a few overlooks and did a short 1 mile hike to a viewpoint. On the way back down the western side, we spotted two Bighorns on a snowy slope. Once back in the valley, we swung by the Holzwarth Historic Site, an old 1920s dude ranch with a few preserved cabins and barn structures.
Before exiting the park, we saw two moose near the road. Much of the west side shows fire damage from recent years with plenty of standing dead trees, but also signs of new growth pushing through. Nature doing its thing.
From there, we made the drive to Stagecoach State Park. After setting up camp, we walked over to the marina to check things out. The guy running the shop told us ice cream was his number one seller, so naturally we contributed to the statistic. When Danny mentioned putting the kayaks in the next day, he cautioned that the lake can turn quickly if the wind picks up and handed him a bright orange whistle just in case.
Later, we drove over to Stagecoach Dam. The reservoir stretched wide behind it, calm for the moment but clearly capable of changing moods. A marmot perched near the rocks along the dam, watching us as we took in the view. A quiet evening to close out a very full week in the mountains.