The next morning, we started on our journey to our next destination: the Boulder Brook backcountry site, about five miles away.  Considering how long it had taken us to get to Glacier Gorge, we knew that we would need to get an early start, in order to get there by dinnertime.  So, at 7:00 a.m., we broke camp and hit the trail.

Our journey to Boulder Brook would involve hiking back along the Glacier Gorge Trail, to the junction with the Longs Peak Trail.  Then, towards the end of the day, we would intersect with the Boulder Brook Trail, where we would find our campsite.  The hike would involve a lot of steep ascents - much more than the first day - so we were expecting a slower pace.

We got off to a good start that morning; we managed to get a strong, steady pace out of Mary for the first three-quarters of a mile, as we passed by Jewel and Mills Lakes.  Of course, it was still early in the day; eleven o'clock was still hours away.

As the trail took us up away from Mills Lake and over the ridgeline, John suddenly heard a snap, coming from his backpack - and suddenly, his pack wasn't riding very well anymore.  We had to stop, out in the middle of the trail, in a very exposed area, so that he could figure out what the problem was.  That was when he discovered that one of the straps that held the pack to his waist belt had come undone; in fact, the grommet that held the two pieces together was completely broken. 

And his backpack wasn't that old!  I had given it to him for Christmas only six months earlier.  For it to have come apart like that, after only a few backpacking trips, was just bad.  On top of that, we still had a whole day of hiking ahead of us and another day after that, to carry a broken backpack. 

The good news is, it didn't completely ruin our backpacking trip.  After spending some time looking at the problem, John was able to fix it temporarily by clipping it together with a carabineer. 

The bad news was, the broken backpack was only a sign of things to come...

We spent most of the morning hiking down the Glacier Gorge Trail, to the junction with the Longs Peak Trail.  Although we had gotten off to a good start, the delay caused by the broken backpack seemed to dampen our spirits a bit.  On top of that, most of the hike was in the exposed area, where we had no protection from the hot sun that was beating down on us.  The heat took its toll on Mary, and she was soon hiking at a snail's pace.

The Longs Peak Trail offered us no relief from the hot sun; much of this trail was exposed and offered us no shade.  The highlight, though, was the hike over Glacier Gorge, by way of a nice pine bridge that spanned the box canyon through which Glacier Creek gushed.  It was a beautiful sight, to be standing on the bridge while the water below rushed through the narrow slot, with destructive force.  Amazing, the power of water!

The trail proved to be more difficult than we had anticipated for Mary, and by midday, she was in tears.  There was just no consoling her, not when we were miles from camp and there was nothing that we could do for her.  We just had to let her cry it out, even though it wore her out.

There was a glimmer of hope when, by 3:00 p.m., we finally arrived at the junction with the Boulder Brook Trail.  We were supposed to find our backcountry site just a tenth of a mile from the trail junction; however, it was more like a half of a mile, which meant that it was another fifteen minutes of hiking.  By this time, we were exhausted, overheated, and tired of hearing Mary cry.  We just wanted to find our campsite...

And when we finally did find the Boulder Brook backcountry site, we were so disappointed.  Glacier Gorge had been one of the most beautiful campsites; this was just ugly.  Despite the fact that it was the highest backcountry site we had ever had - at an elevation of 10,000 feet - it was nothing like we imagined it to be.  It was exposed, there was no ground cover whatsoever, and it was a tenth of a mile hike just to get to the creek to filter water.  In all the years that we've been together, John has always tried to take me to pretty places; this was not one of them.

Despite that fact, we made do - mainly, because we had no other choice.  We pitched our tents and settled in for the night.  I think Mary was just glad to be off of her feet and in the comfort of her tent!

Having endured a long day of hiking - eight hours to go five difficult miles - we were in bed soon after dinner, even before the sun had set over the Colorado Rockies.  We were so exhausted that we fell asleep quickly that night...

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