As the sunset illuminated the evening sky, we sipped our last few drops of lavender-infused libations and made our way across the beautiful Thompson River walkway back to our cozy room. Fortunately, the entire day had been this dreamy, and it all started with an adorable little kiss on the nose from a Rottweiler at 5 a.m.
Hilariously — but quite seriously — the moment we stepped outside of our room, we were met by the local Estes Park wilderness ambassador: a cranky mother deer stomping her feet to let us know we needed to detour away from her family! Our Rottweiler, Rocco, was taken by surprise, and we made sure to steer clear of the unbridled fury known colloquially as “Animal Mother.” After that quick pre-coffee jolt, we ambled over to the nearest coffee shop right on the banks of the Thompson River, Kind Coffee. The spacious outdoor seating area was blanketed with green grass and blessed by the gentle rumble of the rapids. After our five-star blueberry cream cheese danish and latte superpower bean juice, we were off to our next adventure: finding the perfect morning dog poop spot.
As we drove to Lion Gulch Trail, the temperature began to soar. We had arrived during a challenging time, with a heat dome pushing temperatures up across the country. This particular trail is pretty popular with local hikers and dog friends, too. We barely snagged the last parking spot when we pulled up to the trailhead. Colorado — and especially Estes Park — is an outdoor hotspot, so parking can be scarce after the early morning hours.
We set out on the beautiful, well-maintained trail, but after the first mile, temperatures had already hit 84°F. We powered through until little Rocco needed a break, then decided to save his and our energy for the rest of the day ahead. There is abundant water along the first mile or so of the trail, but be prepared for a challenging hike with about 1,000 feet of elevation gain over just a few miles. We’ll definitely be back to try again when the weather is a bit more favorable for Mr. Rocco, the best boy in the whole world. Not to mention, the drive out there is absolutely magnificent.
After a nice rest and reset at the room, we continued our adventure, rambling through the historic and breathtaking scenery of this charming town’s manicured streets and wide sidewalks. Having sampled our fair share of saltwater taffy, we chose a restaurant overlooking the lake on a beautifully appointed balcony: Ember.
To say the duck breast gnocchi was exquisite would be like calling Picasso “competent.” The drinks were equally excellent, served with a casual but refined air. I was thoroughly impressed with the subtle ambiance and the culinary professionalism of this high-quality establishment — easily a 6/5 stars in my book. I might have even dreamed about acquiring gallons of that cream Alfredo sauce…
Stanley, Stanley, Stanley! As we recovered from what felt like a never-ending day of celebrations, we decided to make our next stop the grand prize of Estes Park — and I’m not even talking about RMNP. Our eyes bulged and our hearts soared as we walked toward the Stanley Hotel. The white paint stands out against the mountain backdrop, and the scale of the property becomes clear as you approach the front entrance. There’s a historic air and a deep sense of antiquity as your eyes take in the expansive grounds.
Several buildings grace the property, including restaurants, bars, wedding reception areas, flower gardens, and magnificent lodging. We sat on the front porch with glasses of soul-satisfying vino, soaking up a perfect moment surrounded by the incredible history of the Stanley Hotel, with views of the mountains glowing in the sunset. The place is oozing with stories — this is where Stephen King wrote The Shining, and part of Dumb and Dumber was filmed on the hotel steps. Countless famous people, including Bob Dylan, have stayed here.
Watching the joy and excitement dance across the faces of other travelers is one of the best rewards of visiting a place so rich in history. Though maybe a bit hokey and silly, I still choose to believe that the bearded, silent man sipping a drink at the bar — who looked exactly like old Mr. Stanley — was, in fact, his happy spirit come back to revel.