Hiking to Maroon Bells and Crater Lake in Aspen’s White River National Forest is worth getting up early for … real early. I rose before the sun and drove into the White River National Forest to see the most photographed mountains in North America. You should do it too.
The Maroon Bells are two mountain peaks in the Elk Mountains – Maroon Peak and North Maroon Peak. These bad lads tower 14,000 feet (14ers) above the stunning Maroon Creek Valley.
There were only a few cars in the parking lot at 5:30 am. I hiked about half a paved mile down to the lake and saw that the cars mostly belonged to photographers. They lined up along the shoreline, waiting for the sun to come out and cast its glow upon the lake, giving the “bells” their world-famous lake reflection.
Why the Maroon Bells are Famous
They say the Maroon Bells distinctive bell-shape and maroon color make them unique. The color comes from the iron-bearing mineral hematite. But how maroon are they? I think that depends on the light and your imagination, but hey, they’re not my mountains to name.
At the base of the peaks lies Maroon Lake. It’s a pristine alpine lake that perfectly mirrors the towering mountains, especially on calm mornings. This reflection creates the reason it’s the most photographed site.
It rained the night before and the peaks were shrouded in cloud. Instead of waiting for the sun, I walked the mile-long trail around the lake. Once away from the crowd, I was able to see the peaks at a closer vantage. I could also see the waterfall that feeds into the lake below.
The waterfalls in the park form from snow melt at the top of the mountains. They flow eventually into Maroon Creek, which feeds into Crater Lake, above, and Maroon Lake below. I stood next to the Maroon Lake and snapped the coveted image.
As the sun began to rise, more people arrived. At the time I visited, the park only allowed entry by registration, so there were fewer than two dozen people. I’m told there can be dozens and dozens clamoring for a spot to take a photo of the reflection.
Things to do at Maroon Bells-Snowmass Wilderness Area
I opted for the road less traveled and hiked the trail up the mountain toward Crater Lake.
The Maroon Bells are the centerpiece of the Maroon Bells-Snowmass Wilderness Area, a vast expanse of protected wilderness. This ensures that the surrounding environment remains pristine and offers opportunities for a variety of outdoor activities, including:
- Hiking: From the easy loop around Maroon Lake to more strenuous trails like Four Pass Loop (a multi-day backpacking trip).
- Camping: Several campgrounds are available in the valley.
- Wildlife Viewing: The area is home to a diverse array of wildlife.
Crater Lake at Maroon Bells
The trail begins at Maroon Lake and climbs through a massive grove of white Aspen trees. It follows Maroon Creek and crosses two bridges before climbing steep and rocky hills. Are all the hikes in Colorado steep and rocky? In my experience, yes.
The out-and-back trail is just under two miles each way. It leaves you alone in the middle of a forested wonderland. Rangers warned to be prepared for cooler temperatures and spontaneous thunderstorms, each of which I encountered.
Signs warn about the bears and encourage you not to feed them. As a lone hiker, it gave me pause. It’s always more comforting to have someone you can run faster than with you. I tried to put the idea of feeding bears out of my mind. Whenever I’m afraid, I think, “Would you rather die on the couch or …” Fill in the blank. Today I chose a bear fight.
The hike up is moderately steep but easily manageable for most, and the elevation gain is only about 500 feet. Navigating the rocks is the most challenging part.
White Aspen Forest
Early in the hike, I passed fields of Aspen trees where people had carved their initials. The oldest date I saw was JH ’72. I don’t like cutting trees, but it was comforting, while out there alone, to know that others came before. People have been hiking this trail long before I was born.
Aspen trees grow quickly and competently on gravel slopes. They have good longevity because they’re more likely to survive avalanches in the wintertime. As you walk through the forest, you can hear them “quaking” when the wind blows their butterfly-like leaves.
Quaking Aspens
I crossed paths with other hikers about every 15 minutes, coming down the trail or passing me by. I’m a “slow and steady” hiker with old lungs and no prizes to win, so I’m accustomed to being passed.
About halfway up, I heard what I thought were the telltale sounds of clicking hikers’ poles behind me. I looked behind and thought I saw someone move, so I waited to let them pass. Nobody came, so I kept walking.
After a distance, I again heard the clicking. This time, accompanied by grunting that seemed again to be heading in my direction. I shouted, “Hello?” but the only response was another grunt.
Hey! Hello? Hey! Hey! Hello? Hello?
I’ve read that you should not run from a bear. They don’t like it. Any wagers on a day coming when I’m alone in the woods and don’t run from a bear? Not a bet I would take.
Bear attack 101
What you should do is back slowly away and identify yourself as human. How? By waving your arms and speaking in a calm, appeasing tone. “Oh, hello there bear, fancy meeting you here on this mountain. What ya up to? Hunting? That’s cool. Me? Oh, I’m strolling around courting death, you know, the usual. Anyway, great to see ya; I just remembered I forgot something in my car, so …”
They don’t say anything about crying, so I assume I was good on that front.
After I yelled several times, a large dark skin man with hiking poles came into view from the direction I ran from. He was wearing earbuds and said, in barely discernible English, “You ok?” and then he grunted. I’d met my bear.
I quickened my pace so I was ahead of him, but didn’t get too far away. I figured if there was a bear, I could probably outrun that guy.
Down into the valley at Crater Lake
About three-quarters of the way up the trail, the valley floor opened onto a rock field. The local DNR refers to it as a “rock garden.” It’s such an elaborate garden; it’s hard to make out where the trail is. Several times, I was unsure and had to use my powers of deduction.
Not the cliff, not that tree cluster … must be through this rock pile …
In the end, the trail slopes down and opens up into a valley bordered by mountain cliffs, waterfalls, and finally, Crater Lake. The hike to Crater Lake is about 3.5 to 3.8 miles round-trip (out and back). You’ll gain about 600-700 feet of elevation from Maroon Lake to Crater Lake.
Fun fact: The DNR may call it a rock garden, but it’s actually a “talus field.” That’s an area covered in loose, broken rock (scree) that results from rockfalls off the surrounding cliffs.
Crater Lake views
People who only go to Maroon Bells are missing out on an equally, if not better, reflecting lake. Though I’ve heard if you go when it’s dry, the lake may not be much more than a puddle. Plan accordingly.
In the middle of the mountains, and a nifty little beaver dam, the blue-green lake sits nestled in perfect stillness. Because it’s so sheltered, it has high nutrient levels, which contribute to algae growth, creating its unique color.
Standing there, I watched a beaver make his dam while keeping my eyes peeled for bears (I was paranoid now). A trail goes around the lake and gives you a delightful new reflection view every 20 feet.
Bear-man cometh
As I walked around, I marveled at the beavers, the clouds’ closeness, the lake reflections, and my own prowess at getting to this amazing spot. Then bear-man joined me.
He was grunting heavily now. He’d taken the earbuds out and played aggressive eastern music for all to hear—”All,” meaning just me. The music was a mix of traditional reed flute and oboe, mixed with assertive guitar and angry wind chimes. Can you imagine it? I suspect he recorded it himself.
What goes up
After a brief rest, while watching bear-man take his pics, I headed back down the trail. I passed four young people from England on my way down. They stopped to ask how much further. This question is the hiker’s hello. We seldom really need to ask. They were through hiking and planned to camp overnight near the lake. They were bolder than I, but I guess having a few extra bodies for the bears makes you brave.
I continued onward; it was no easier to traverse the way down. The trail was quiet, and I didn’t see another person for an hour. An impromptu hailstorm only lasted a few minutes. That was a blessing because, coming while I was in the ‘rock garden,’ I didn’t have any cover. Since they were ice rocks, I didn’t get wet, which I appreciated.
What better feeling can there be than the view from the top of a mountain? It’s coveted because it’s so hard to get to, and so few ever will. The view from the bottom, though, only after you turn back to gaze at the size of the feat you’ve accomplished, that’s pretty special too.
I didn’t carve my name on a tree as I passed back through the forest. I did stop to listen to their quaking and set my hands on them. My initials may not be there for years to come, but those trees and that mountain will live in me always, and that’s enough.
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