Backpacking to Mirror Lake: 3 Days in Rocky Mountain National Park

It was bittersweet stepping onto the trail for my second and final backpacking trip of 2025. I knew this would be the last time I shouldered my pack for the year, but what a way to end the season—wandering deep into wilderness, soaking in solitude, and sharing the trail with my son Greg before he headed back to college.

Mirror Lake had been on my list for years. Tucked into the remote northwest corner of Rocky Mountain National Park, surrounded by the sheer walls of the Mummy Range, it is about as far from the bustle of the park as one can go while still within its boundary. When I managed to snag permits for a three-day, two-night trip, I knew this adventure would be something special.

When we picked up our permits, a ranger reminded us the hike was exposed, scarred by the 2020 Cameron Peak Fire. The loss of trees meant less shade and hotter miles, but it also opened up sweeping views that might not have been visible before. With packs loaded and permits in hand, we headed up Poudre Canyon Road to Corral Creek trailhead, ready to step into the wild.

Day 1 – Into the Burn and Beyond

The morning at the trailhead was already alive with activity. Several rangers saddled up and rode out on horseback, bound for trail maintenance on a route different from ours. Watching them disappear into the forest, I felt grateful for their efforts—it’s their work that keeps these remote paths accessible for people like us.

We left the trailhead and soon entered the Comanche Peak Wilderness, following Corral Creek as it gurgled through meadows and groves of pine. The air was heavy with the smell of damp earth and spruce, that rich, grounding scent that always makes me feel at home in the mountains. But soon the green gave way to the stark landscape of the burn zone. Charred trunks rose like dark pillars, evidence of fire’s fury, yet the absence of canopy opened sweeping views of the valley and distant ridges.

Crossing La Poudre Pass Creek marked our official entrance into Rocky Mountain National Park. From there, the trail leveled out alongside the Cache la Poudre River, its silver ribbons of water gleaming in the sunlight. Soon after, the trail tilted upward into the burn zone, where a steep, mile-long climb pushed our legs and lungs. With heavy packs and tired bodies, Greg and I pressed on as rain clouds built overhead, darkening the sky. When a light sprinkle finally fell, cooling our backs, I welcomed the pause in the heat. Reaching the ridge, I stopped to breathe it all in—sweeping views, mountain silence, the hum of wilderness alive around us.

The air was cooler now, the hardest climb behind us. From there, the trail undulated through pockets of living forest, wrapping around Comanche Peak. Thunder rumbled in the distance, and with less than a mile to go to our campsite, the sky split with lightning. We quickly pulled on our rain gear and hunkered down, watching the valley below receive a much-needed drink of water. And then, as suddenly as it had arrived, the storm passed. Sunlight broke free once more, sparkling on the wet leaves around us.

By late afternoon we reached Mirror Lake Campsite #1, tucked close to the water. What a place to call home: a lush meadow cradled by towering cliffs, Cascade Creek tumbling nearby in a steady chorus of water over stone, and wildflowers nodding in the breeze. We pitched our tent and settled in, grateful to have this corner of wilderness to ourselves. After dinner, we stretched out on the soft ground and watched the sun melt behind the peaks. When night fell, clouds drifted across a glowing moon, their edges bright as silver fire. It was a moonlit night so vivid it almost felt like another world—an unforgettable display to end our first day.

Day 2 – Mirror Lake & Forever Pond

Morning came softly, sunlight brushing the mountain tips in gold while the meadow below slowly woke with color. The air was crisp but not biting, and I cradled my coffee mug as the scent of spruce and wet earth drifted through the meadow. Our little tents tucked beneath towering cliffs and nodding pines, the rhythm of creek providing the soundtrack to a peaceful mountain morning. A deer wandered nearby, grazing in the wildflowers with little concern for our presence—a quiet companion to breakfast.

A short stroll brought us to Mirror Lake itself, vast and still beneath jagged cliffs. Snow still clung to the high crevices, stubborn reminders of winter, while the dark-blue water shimmered with perfect symmetry. On that calm morning, the name “Mirror” lived up to its promise—the mountains gleamed twice, above and below. Every ripple felt like a secret shared between lake and sky.

But we weren’t finished exploring. Skirting the shoreline, Greg and I scrambled over boulder fields and granite slabs until we reached Forever Pond, a hidden tarn perched just above Mirror Lake. Nestled in its rocky cradle, Forever Pond shimmered like a secret jewel—its green-tinged water so clear we could see straight to the bottom, yet still enough to reflect both mountain and sky. The outlet tumbled over boulders in a playful cascade before dropping toward Mirror Lake, connecting the two like a silver thread. Patches of alpine grass softened the granite edges, and snow lingered on shaded ridges high above. We lingered here, dipping our toes into the cool water, climbing to a nearby ridge to capture views of both lakes sparkling below.

Back at Mirror Lake, we stretched out along the shore with snacks, watching fish leap and dragonflies stitch across the surface. The rhythm of the place was slow, unhurried—sun warming our backs, shadows sliding along the cliffs, water carrying every reflection like a secret.

By afternoon, clouds gathered once more, bringing a steady rain that drove us back to camp. We retreated to the tent, listening to the steady rain patter that lulled us into naps. When the storm cleared, the meadow shone with sunlit droplets. Later, we spent the evening in camp’s quiet meadow—Greg with his book, me watching butterflies weave across the flowers as the mountains played with light and shadow. Dinner came with only a short sprinkle of rain, and afterward we lingered under the tarp, trading stories as clouds faded into a wide, open sky.

That night was entirely clear, unlike the silver-moon clouds of the night before. The stars spread in brilliant layers, sharp and endless, a cathedral of light overhead. I felt as though the entire universe had descended to meet us. The backcountry has its gifts—some rugged, some humbling—but nights like this are why we come.

Day 3 – Farewell to the Wild

Our last morning arrived crisp and quiet, the kind of mountain air that clears both lungs and mind. Over coffee and tea, Greg and I reflected on the journey – the tough climbs, the fleeting storms, the gift of solitude, and the unforgettable beauty of both lakes.

Packing up was bittersweet. Leaving Mirror Lake felt like leaving a piece of myself behind, but the thought of hot showers and a Philly cheesesteak sandwich nudged us toward home. We shouldered our now-lighter packs and beginning the long hike out.

The hike out was gentler than our climb in. The descent was easier on our lungs but no less striking on the senses. As we descended, we noticed details we had missed in the rain on the way up—gentle cascades that now trickled softly, small pockets of wildflowers blooming in shaded creases, the quiet persistence of life returning even in fire-scarred forest.

Cloud cover and light sprinkles kept us cool—nature’s kindness as we made our way back down. Greg took the lead, brushing cobwebs from the path, and I smiled watching him stride ahead, knowing these shared moments were as fleeting as they were precious.

By mid-afternoon, we retraced our steps across La Poudre Pass Creek, its silver ribbons once again catching the sun. The familiar wide stretch of trail guided us out of the wilderness, until the parking lot and trailhead sign marked the official end of our three-day loop.

Closing Reflections

Three days in the backcountry left us with more than miles on the boots—it left us with quiet nights under the stars, the surprise of hidden ponds, storms that rolled through and left the world glittering, and a reminder of why wild places matter.

The Comanche Peak Wilderness and Rocky Mountain National Park offered their full spectrum—sun and rain, thunder and stillness, mirror-like lakes and trickling cascades. It was a rhythm of effort and reward, challenge and calm, leaving us both humbled and recharged.

And as for what’s next? Well, in true Western Wanderlust Chronicles fashion—there’s always another trail waiting, another ridge calling, another story ready to unfold.