Circa 1976

I am not sure who’s idea it was but I know we had talked about this particular trip for weeks that summer.  Lincoln Lake is located near the top of Independence Pass just above the last major switchback.  From the parking lot it is a short, one-mile, nearly vertical hike.

It was a beautiful summer day and by all accounts the perfect day for camping.  Ham Tharp, Robert Thuillier and I loaded up our packs and headed up the pass in my Jeep.  We gave little regard for what we took as we knew the hike was short and besides, we needed all of that stuff.

After setting up camp we set out to explore the lake and the small valley it was tucked into.  We were alone but could hear all the traffic on the highway across the valley.  The lake was formed by a glacier and the rocks around it are as big as houses; so, hiking around it was fun but challenging.

As evening set in we settled down for dinner and some beers we had liberated from my dad’s “Man Fridge” back home.   At the same time the clouds began to darken and the wind started picking up.  Before long we were in the middle of a full-fledged storm complete with lightning.  For us this made our location more dangerous as the valley we were in is largely composed of Iron Ore rocks. 

In no time we sought the refuge of our small tent to get out of the rain.  Outside the tent we could see the lightning and what we think was “St. Elmo’s fire” rolling around in the valley.  At one point during a lull in the storm our tent lit up and expanded like an over-filled balloon.  We took a direct St. Elmo’s Fire (static electricity) hit and lived to tell about it.

The storm lasted most of the night and any living thing in the valley sought refuge where ever they could.  This included the small space between the tent and it’s rain fly.  In the middle of the night I felt an animal laying up against me with only the thin nylon tent walls separating us.  I am not sure what type of critter it was, maybe a large rabbit, fox or even something more dangerous.  All I knew was that I was not about to go find out.

By morning the storm had cleared and the critters were gone.  As we all exited the tent we looked like a bunch of hedgehogs.  The static electricity had energized every hair we had.  After a good laugh and a hearty breakfast we packed up and headed home.

When we got home we learned that we had survived one of the valley’s worst storms in decades.  We had failed to let our parents know where we were going and at one point they almost sent out a search party to find us.  For us this was just another summer adventure.  Camping at 11,000 feet always provides an extra element of excitement.  Today, Lincoln Lake is a popular camping place for locals and visitors alike.  For me, it is one of my favorite places on earth.