We are up before dawn! Today we are hunting Elk. The view outside our window never fail‘s to stun and amaze us, this morning she is sombre, grey misty and ghostlike, sound is muffled, the air still and cold. We drive out to a local meadow, we are told it’s a good place to see Elk, but there’s no joy other than to watch the clouds slowly chased away by the strengthening sun. As she slowly climbs into the sky the snow-capped peaks are the first to be lit, the clouds burnt away before the rays touch the frost on the meadow.

Not deterred by our lack of elk hunting success we head for the “Trail Ridge Road” pass over into Estes Park, altitude 12,183ft or if you prefer over 2 miles high. As we approach the pass we see deer grazing and jaywalking, their breath steaming in the crisp air, their attentions focused on the silver coating of frost on the ground, but still no elk. The trail switch-backs its way up the mountain side, we pass through and then climb above some stubborn cloud hiding from the sun in the shadow of the peaks and head towards the snow line. We are lucky today; this road cuts through the Rocky Mountain National Park, and at this time of year its often closed, indeed both yesterday and tomorrow we would have been turned back at the toll booth, but today even though the snow is blowing across the road and the drifts have frozen to ice, the pass is open.

We drop down into Estes Park, unlike our favourite Grand Lake, we have to say that this place is tourist tat heaven. We find a good Diner, but so have many locals and other tourists and there’s a 30 minute wait in the car-park, however they bring you a mug of coffee while you wait. After eggs Benedict (an effort to have a break from fry-ups) we peruse the camping shops, some even having their own climbing walls, its more heaven for me and a chance for Les to buy some trousers.

We are soon over-whelmed by all the tourism and hear our quiet cabin calling us from back over the pass so we answer the call. On the way back its warm enough for us to stop at one of the view points and we explore real genuine tundra. Its a while since we’ve been at this altitude and felt the desolation that the lack of trees brings, the stark, empty, peacefulness of just sky, rock and ice. Away in the distance nestled amongst the ridges is a ice covered lake glinting in the sunlight.

We descend back down to the tree-line and see the sign that tells us this point is at an altitude of 2 miles, it’s hard to picture a distance and put yourself in the picture. We pass a huge big old station-wagon. These pictures are really for my dad who still gets a kick out of these big old gas guzzling giants.

The Elk have come down from the heights to the meadows to fight, feed and Rut. There is a fantastic display by 2 Elk stags, a fierce battle, the sound of crashing, locking antlers ringing out across the meadow. There’s a sign limiting the size of your caravan, trailer or motor home to 18 ft. This will make the Europeans amongst us giggle, but out here there are some huge monster homes on wheels, quite often they are towing the family jeep or speed boat behind them giving them an awesome length.

Back at the cabin we start our log fire and settle for the night, the moon again casts a picture for the mind and soul and so just one more “moon over lake” shot