Molas Lake: Jewel of the San Juans

The little town of Silverton nestled in a mountain park amid the San Juan mountain peaks of southwestern Colorado. I arrived there in less than perfect shape. My Volkswagon van was mysteriously leaking steering fluid and my headache just wouldn't quit. After I added some steering fluid to the van and gave my patient little Lhasa apso, Freda, some water and a walk, I looked around for a restaurant where I could get a good meal and some advice. Sorry to say, I don't remember the name of the place, but it had good food and good service.

When I told the man at the cash register that I needed to find a nice, quiet campground where I could sleep off my migraine, he said, "Go on up the highway six miles and there's a campground just off the road at Molas Lake. It's real nice, and I think they have a space or two open."

I climbed into the van and followed his directions, expecting I would find an RV park where I could squeeze my little van in among the Winnebagos for the night. It would have to do. But, when I arrived at Molas Lake, I was as delighted as anyone could be. Molas Lake was a lovely, natural lake ringed by tall evergreen forest and beyond that by a magnificent array of mountain peaks. The camping areas were hidden in the trees, with small pods of spaces providing quite a bit of privacy. It was quiet, peaceful, and clean, and they did have a space open for me. After I parked the van, I took Freda for a walk down to the shore. We sat in the late afternoon sun and watched a red rowboat drift along slowly while its two occupants trailed fishing lines. Beyond the other side of the lake, the Grenadier Range of mountains lifted rugged peaks into the sky and were reflected on the water. Here and there I caught a glimpse of a campfire through the trees and heard children's voices in the distance. It became clear to me that I needed more than one night in this lovely spot, so I went back to the office and reserved another 24 hours.

By the next morning, all traces of the headache had disappeared. Freda and I ate breakfast at the picnic table in the morning, under the watchful eyes of a pair of chipmunks and a dark blue Steller's Jay that was hoping for a handout. This was a sweet, warm August morning. I got my camera gear and started exploring the area, including a little wetland that led down to the lake. Wildflowers were in full bloom here at about 10,500 feet. Plenty of moisture and the unfiltered sunshine they received at this elevation produced healthy looking plants with large, vividly colored blossoms. I found Indian Paintbrush (both the sulphur and scarlet species) Little Elephant Heads, Blue Columbine, wild Roses, and Blue Chiming Bells (Mertensia).

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