Great Colorado Getaways

Grand Lake

By Eric Lindberg

Three hours from now the boardwalk will be creaking beneath the sandals and sneakers of strolling tourists. Down at the beach, parents will spread out towels under a cloudless sky while kids squeal and race through the shallows. Sails will unfurl from masts as boats glide away from shore, signaling the start of another summer day at Grand Lake.

But in this quiet hour before dawn, the village streets are deserted. Finding my reserved canoe on the dock at the tiny marina, I slip it into the water and stroke out across the lake. Feeding trout rise and dimple the glassy surface. Overhead a pair of ravens caw and chase each other as they hurtle toward Ptarmigan Mountain. Reaching the middle of the lake, I lean back and drift lazily until the first ski boat roars across the lake and sends me paddling toward shore.

Back on land it's midmorning and the town of Grand Lake has sprung to life. As sunlight spills into the valley, hungry families amble along the wooden boardwalk in search of breakfast. Cappuccino machines hiss inside coffee shops, muffling the murmur of caffeine devotees as they line up in anticipation. Nobody is in a hurry.

"Grand" without the attitude

Unlike many other popular Colorado mountain towns, Grand Lake has no nearby ski resort. Other than Winter Park and SolVista, 40 and 20 miles away, there's no place to schuss down snow-clad slopes. But the upside is a refreshing absence of ski-resort attitude. And for many visitors, that's exactly the point.

You won't find après-ski watering holes, designer clothing boutiques or budget-breaking eateries here. Perhaps the only pretentious thing about the place is the name of its main street—Grand Avenue. Stretching about six blocks and lined with a small-town mélange of ice cream parlors, restaurants, curio shops, a town park and drama theater, the street is perfect for meandering and people-watching. But grand it's not.

Given the lovely surroundings, it's easy to forgive the founding fathers their naming pretensions. The village hugs the shore of Colorado's largest natural lake, surrounded by mountains on three sides. At night the heavens sparkle with a starry brilliance that city dwellers never glimpse under the glare of urban lights.

My morning voyage complete, I return to Grand Avenue and its half-dozen breakfast spots. Having heard reverent praise for the breakfast buffet at the Fat Cat Café, I step inside to a crowded roomful of locals and tourists and an unexpected salutation.

"Hullo, luv, how're you?" The distinct British voice behind the cash register belongs to Sally Hoffman, owner of the Fat Cat. What began several years back as an occasional breakfast feed at the café is now a popular weekend event. Sally's goal is to bring healthy cuisine to Grand Lake. But she's not skimping on taste. "I won't allow iceberg lettuce, margarine or skim milk in my kitchen."

With around 50 items to choose from, it's a formidable spread. Browsing her dessert table piled with scones, pies, puff pastries and bread pudding, I see little evidence of healthy cuisine. But by my second trip to the table I'm beyond caring. It's just too good.

Walks and wildlife

Despite this and other culinary enticements around town, for many visitors the lure of the surrounding landscape is irresistible. With mountains in every direction, there's no shortage of hiking trails. A good place to walk off breakfast is the East Inlet Trail. Starting with a brief climb to cascading Adams Falls, the route leads into a mountain valley with a broad stream and large meadows. Moose often browse the open areas early in the morning, moving into shaded woods later in the day. For a longer hike, continue out of the valley to Lone Pine Lake and Lake Verna.

Grand Lake is the quieter western gateway to Rocky Mountain National Park. Setting off from town, within minutes I'm inside the park, heading along Kawuneeche Valley on Trail Ridge Road. I plan to drive slowly and scan the meadows for wildlife, but as it turns out, there's no need for rubbernecking along the way. Just like on an African safari, wherever three or more cars cluster along the road, there's probably a wild animal close by.

This morning yields plenty of critters. Just off the road, a bull moose and two cows browse in a willow thicket. Two elk with massive racks wander slowly along the river. Further up the valley, another moose and her calf bed down in the tall grass. A coyote trots along the forest edge, alert for small rodents. Woodpeckers, hawks, and stellar jays flit and swoop through the cool mountain air.

About nine miles into the park is the trailhead for Lulu City, an 1880s gold mining camp. The trail is a delightful ramble through woods and meadows, following the Colorado River for part of the way. Marmots den in the rocky hillsides, nibbling on grasses and sunning on boulders. But not much remains of Lulu City.

Look closely to find a few notched logs and remnants of cabin walls, with lodgepole pines growing inside the former cabins. Once a thriving settlement of 200 people, the forest is quiet now but for the jabbering gray jays and the wind whistling through the pines.

Around the town

When I return to Grand Lake the summer afternoon is in full swing. Hummingbirds dart madly among the flower boxes lining Grand Avenue. All the ice cream parlors have lines out the door. Hoping for an inside scoop on the best one, I ask several locals. The unanimous winner is the homemade ice cream at little Myauchi's Snack Shack across from the beach.

Cone in hand, I find a bench at water's edge. Gulls circle overhead as small sailboats zip across the white-capped lake. The tangy scent of sunscreen wafts through the warm air, and for a few drowsy moments Grand Lake feels like some distant ocean shore. Not all hiking around Grand Lake is on dirt trails. Grab a well-made cappuccino or chai from Village Hub Coffee House and spend an hour or two along the wooden boardwalk, poking around the art galleries, curio shops, book sellers and restaurants. Drop by Kauffman Museum, housed in a pre-1900 log hotel on a bluff above the lake, and learn about life during early settlement years. Or just find a shady tree in the town park and watch the world go by.

In the afternoon I board a pontoon boat for an hour-long guided lake tour. One of the summer's frequent regattas is beginning, and dozens of Laser sailboats stream out from the Grand Lake Yacht Club, North America's highest-altitude yachting organization. Sailboats and high alpine lakes may seem an unlikely pairing. But with a squadron of squawking gulls wheeling overhead and the chuffing of wind-swelled sails floating on the breeze, the nautical ambience is an unexpected enchantment.

Content to let someone else do the steering, I lean back and enjoy the cruise past historic wooden lakeside homes. But it's not the homes that intrigue me. It's the old boats.

Close to 50 antique mahogany Chris-Craft boats are berthed on Grand Lake. Wildly popular in the 1940s-60s, these sleek wooden boats add a touch of the past as they motor across the lake. Picture Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, Katherine Hepburn or Elvis (all Chris-Craft owners) at the helm of one of these classic cruisers, and it's easy to imagine the glamour evoked by these elegant vessels. During the summer they are docked in boat houses alongside waterfront homes. Many of the enclosures have fences strung underwater across the entrance to keep beavers out. From the owner's perspective, beavers and wooden boats are a bad mix.

Like the varnished wooden boats, Grand Lake and the surrounding mountains roll back the years to a simpler time before cable television, email and cell phones became life essentials. Chances are you won't spot movie stars, oil princes or software tycoons sauntering along the weathered boardwalk. You won't find Gucci or Prada. And the Lariat Saloon on Grand Avenue sees a lot more cowboy boots than ski boots.

What you will find is an old-fashioned summer resort town where the combination of a sparkling mountain lake, a sunny day and an ice cream cone come pretty darn close to perfection.

Eric Lindberg is a writer and photographer based in Lakewood.

Great Colorado Getaways