Look, Mom, We're Camping!: Four Weeks in the Northwest: Part I (North Cascades)

(Click on the photos to see a slideshow; hit "escape" to get back to the text. As always, both Felice and I took these photos. Many (if not most) were taken with her iPhone! I edit them on Lightroom, trying to reproduce just what we saw.)

Part I: The North Cascades

The plan was to take off after Labor Day and do a deep dive into the North Cascades. But as the time approached, the Cascades were getting smokier and smokier, thanks to forest fires fueled by bark beetle mortality. We almost cancelled the trip completely. A week later, the wind and the weather changed somewhat for the better. Back to Plan A!

Because the Interstate 5 corridor is crowded, heavily used, poorly paved, and hilly, we decided to try the inland route, essentially Highways 395 and 97, using Highway 31 through Summer Lake, Oregon, to connect 395 to 97. This was not any faster or slower than I-5, but it was a lot emptier, smoother, and flatter.

The only problem was that the gas stops were very far apart, often 120 miles or more. This required careful planning during each day, which was not so easy in a vast area essentially devoid of cell coverage. Overall, though, I think I prefer the inland route from Southern California to Northern Washington.

Sept. 18: We stopped for the night at Oh Ridge campground near June Lake. That night, the mountains picked up a dusting of snow. We were sure that we would encounter a lot more snow and rain in the Northwest. (Nope. Almost the whole month was warm and dry.)

Sept. 19: We stayed in Lakeview, Oregon, at Wild Goose RV Park. (Next time, we will look for an RV park further away from the highway.) Just before sunset, a rainbow pointed to an unlikely location for the proverbial pot of gold:

Sept. 20: We stopped in Goldendale, Washington at Star Gazers RV Park. It was reasonably quiet but not lovely – just a large parking lot.

Sept. 21: We stayed at Issaquah Village RV Park, which was right next to the freeway. Of course, it was very noisy, and the air was terribly smoky due to a nearby forest fire. There was no working 30 amp power at our site. (The management generously "comped" our stay due to the power problem.) I took a rest while Felice met our nephew Zach for a hike at Tradition Lake. Later, we went out for Greek food:

After dinner, we went to Lowe's to get a "dogbone" adapter, so that we could use the working 50 amp power outlet at our site. Google Maps took us on a hilarious (and indescribable) slalom route through a series of back alleys and dark deserted parking lots, suddenly ending at the Lowe's loading dock. (Unfortunately, this was one of those "you had to be there" experiences.)

Sept. 22: We headed north to Bellingham RV Park. The goal was to spend a few days, just to see what Bellingham was like. After parking the trailer, we went to Whatcom Falls Park:

Sept. 23: It was not a "view hike" day, so we took the South Bay trail. It was a surprise to see so much industry along the waterfront. Felice is in a red windbreaker to the left of center:

Sept. 24: We went to Larrabee State Park and hiked up the Fragrance Lake trail. The foliage was impressively lush -- Felice is the small purple patch just to the left of center:

Although most of the trail was heavily forested, there was one viewpoint looking over Puget Sound:

Fragrance Lake was pretty, but there was no discernible aroma:

That afternoon, we wandered down to the beach at Larrabee State Park. This is the only place where the Cascade Range reaches the sea:

Sept. 25: We left Bellingham and found a boondocking site along the Nooksack River. At first, we selected a site that was near (but not on) the river. But after a little more exploring, we chose another nearby site, which was right on the river. We had already set up our equipment tent at the first site. Rather than taking down the tent and reassembling it, I just carried it down the road to its new home:

We had a thumbnail view of Mt. Shuksan from a corner of our site -- this is the first time we have ever boondocked in sight of a glacier:

We set up our "snacking circle" on the riverbank -- the water was a milky blue, due to the meltwater carrying glacial flour, pulverized rock scoured by the ice:

That evening, we drove up the hill to the Artist Point area, stopping for the obligatory picture of Mt. Shuksan at Picture Lake:

(It should really be called "Artists' Point," but it's not.)

As we had hoped, there was a great sunset behind Mt. Baker:

Sept. 26: We chose the Ptarmigan Ridge trail on the flanks of Mt. Baker, a strenuous hike. It was a fairly clear (and hot) day, although there was some haze from forest fires further east.

There were great views of the mountain all along the trail:

Parts of the trail were pretty rough and rocky:

There was a little haze in the air -- the haze seemed to make some of the photos feel more like paintings:

This next photo was taken on the same spot almost exactly eight years earlier -- no haze:

There were a few turquoise glacial tarns -- note the heavy smoke on the horizon:

There were many views of Mt. Shuksan on the return trip:

These are wild mountain blueberries, backlit in the late afternoon:

Sept. 27: In the morning, we moved the snacking circle to a spot with a better view of the river. Note the startling color of the water -- that was caused, I think, by the reflection of the sky. The true color of the river was more of a milky turquoise:

This shot of the campsite shows the awning deployed "Washington style," with the corner intentionally askew so that the rain runs off away from the trailer door. (There was rain in the late afternoon forecast.)

After arranging the awning, we headed out to the Damfino Lakes trail. (Supposedly, the lakes got their name after a ranger was asked what they were called.) The drive to the trailhead was very long (45 minutes), rough, and twisty. After a short hike (about a mile), we were bushwhacked by a very rich patch of blueberry bushes:

The blueberry bushes were very close to the ground -- I left those for Felice, while I concentrated on the huckleberries, which required less bending. After a while, our hands were stained, a badge of honor:

The huckleberries are the larger, darker ones -- they are a little tart but very flavorful.

The red berry bushes surrounded the lake:

It took us more than an hour to harvest two quarts of ripe berries. All the while, we kept a lookout for bears. A ranger had told us that the bears were particularly active at this time of year and that they pick the berries with their agile lips. (This answers the age-old question, "Do bears have lips?")

We then hiked toward Excelsior Pass but ran out of time because we had been bewitched by the berries.

Late that afternoon, as we were driving back down the mountain toward our campsite, we fantasized about enjoying the berries with vanilla ice cream. On a whim, we drove into the nearby "town" of Glacier, which is very small (pop. 142). Not even a gas station. Our expectations were very low.

The town was totally deserted -- not a soul in sight, no other cars. Silence. The sky was cloudy, and the light was dim.

On the side of the road, there was something that looked like a model of an ice cream shop. We stopped in front of it.

In the window, there was a life-size cardboard cut-out of an ice cream man, complete with a striped apron and a little white cap, just standing there, motionless. The whole thing looked like a cruel hoax:

Felice rolled down her window and waved tentatively at the cardboard ice cream man. He waved back -- not a hoax!

She asked him, "Do you have vanilla?"

"Sorry. Sold out."

But he did have coconut, which went perfectly with the berries. If this all sounds dreamlike, it was.

Sept. 28: On a rainy and foggy day, we tackled the strenuous Lake Ann trail. Mt. Baker occasionally peeked (peaked?) through the dark clouds:

The Sitka mountain ash was amazingly colorful -- this is exactly the way it looked. The color has not been enhanced:

We made it to a ridge overlooking Lower Curtis Glacier on the flank of Mt. Shuksan:

That evening, our dessert was a bonanza of berries mixed with yogurt and half and half:

Sept. 29: Reluctantly, we decided to leave our great campsite near Mt. Shuksan. Many of our favorite trails in this area were closed due to fire activity or due to earlier washouts during the spring flooding.

We moved a couple of hours south to Sauk Park Campground. This was essentially boondocking -- no facilities, no water, no reservations. The sites were right on the bank of a beautiful blue-green glacial river:

Unfortunately, Highway 530 was on the other side of the river, and there was some traffic noise.

Sept. 30: The morning sun illuminated the foliage:

The campsite was very spacious and wooded:

We then headed out to the Sauk Mountain trail, accessed by another long, rough, twisty gravel road. The trail on the south face of the mountain consisted of very sharp switchbacks with steep drop-offs, but Felice was able to overcome her vertigo -- a triumph!

The north face of the mountain was a series of basaltic knobs, a "cockscomb" formation. The last time we took this hike (several years ago) this entire area was covered in deep snow:

The last rocky portion of the trail required a bit of a scramble. From the peak, we could see Mt. Baker in the distance, despite the smoke and haze:

Oct. 1: We took the Cascade Pass trail, accessed by yet another long, difficult, dusty drive. Unfortunately, this was on a Saturday, and the trailhead parking was full. There was not even a place to turn around -- I had to back the truck quite a way down the hill to a tight space that Felice had snagged. (Don't go on a weekend or a holiday.)

As we hiked up the switchbacks, we could hear ice and rock roaring down the avalanche chutes below Johannesburg Glacier. The views from the pass were excellent: