Lost Lake–5 miles out, 2 miles back

Heading into the wilderness takes a combination of love, mindfulness, caution, and knowing and respecting your physical limits. Montana and Yellowstone are places of glorious big sky, mountains, and many trails with awesome elevation gains. So I stand on the edge of wilderness, knowing beautiful Lost Lake lies ahead, with  a willing heart, mind, and feet but lungs that make me reevaluate the wisdom of every trek.

When I was a kid, my dad had heavy excavation equipment. He dug foundations, leveled the land, and before any of us knew better, unloaded raw asbestos off the ships in the Hudson River. So in our bliss of ignorance, we all got our clothes washed together and today I have an annoying but non-life threatening case of asbetosis. What does that mean? Elevations come at a cost of snail’s pace, red face, huffing, puffing, and sometimes having to opt out. However, I am not giving up. Up, up we go over 350 feet in .6 mile–and don’t worry about my huffing, puffing or red face! Onward . . .

There are clouds to the south behind us, but look at that blue sky ahead. We are heading to Lost Lake, a secluded six acre lake that I have never visited before. This beautiful walk through the forest is an added treat. All the flowers on the hillsides, combining spring and summer flora of reds, yellows, blues and purples, become a rainbow to walk through.

Heartleaf Arnica and Mountain Forget-Me-Nots scatter beauty along our path.

As we continue up the hill we see more clouds billowing a promise of a rain shower to cool us off. What a hot day, about 88º. The moss on the trees speak of our higher elevation and the dampness that remains within the undergrowth. Isn’t the forest wonderful.

Leaving the forest, we find meadows leading around the bend. Being out in the sun, we have a more arid sagebrush environment. Look, see the Uinta ground squirrel peeking out from home? How did those squirrels dig out rocks bigger than them? What lovely gardens around their home though.
This would not be a walk that we would anticipate seeing much wildlife with the exception of Black Bears, and so far we are making too much noise–on purpose–to avoid an up close and personal with a bear. Never a good idea. It is the flora showcase that takes our breathe away.

Around the bend we see the lake with promise of coolness at water’s edge.

So amazing, the lake is entirely rimmed with water lilies, called cow lilies, pond lilies, and spatterdock. Let’s get a closer look.

Hooray, it is raining, at last. Let’s just stand here, arms in air, and get wet!  Ahhhhh.

Yancey Creek feeds into Lost Lake at its north end. Lots of Cow Parsnip is growing along the creek and can get up to six feet tall. Cow Parsnip has been used by native peoples as a vegetable, peeling and roasting the stalks and roots. In herbal medicine it has a number of uses including treatment for epilepsy. Toy flutes and whistles can be made from the dry, hallow stems, but they may irritate the lips. There is only one problem–it can be confused with water hemlock, which is extremely poisonous. Hmmmm, think I just leave it alone.

Well, it already stopped raining and I’m dry in about four minutes. It was refreshing while it lasted. Hidden away from the rain we find a Greenish Blue butterfly with a wing span of a little over an inch. Always a surprise when you slow down enough to look around.

It is getting hot again, so lets head back into the forest for the walk home. The lake is so beautiful, just one more look.

Heading to the shade of the forest we have to look closely to see if we missed anything on the way up. Beside, going down is less demanding than going up, so we can get the full view, side to side, looking closely for the mysteries popping from the forest floor.

The walk down gives up tiny secrets known as Fairy Slippers. Liking deep, dark forests, we have to look closely to see these bright spots that grow only two to six inches tall. These little orchids are rare so we are blessed today finding so many.

Officially known as Calypso bulbosa. Calypso is named for the sea nymph, Kalypso, which means covered or hidden from view. They are hard to find, partly because they are so small you overlook them entirely, but once you find one you will likely see more.

A break in the trees gives us a beautiful view of the valley below; the Tower Junction.

Another surprise, little red Cut-Leaved Anemone, only about 3/4 inch across. These flowers range in color from white to red and we found the deepest hue of these fancy buttercups. But be careful, they produce  protoanemonin, which is toxic and can cause rashes, nausea, and worse if touched or ingested. Best to just enjoy the view from here.

The Heartleaf Arnica are just exploding over the hillside.

Our last big switchback as we head down to the trailhead.

Have you noticed that it is so much faster returning than it was getting there? Maybe it was the huffing and puffing, but I could swear it was at least five miles out, but only two miles back. Well, either way, what a beautiful walk–and you encouraged me to make it!

Thanks, and until next time . . . slow down . . .