Seems very long ago now… When my own grandfather gathered up the grand-kids into the back of his Ford station-wagon, and took us for a day hike into the deep woods, up to see Lake Twenty-Two for the first time. Still remember being overwhelmed by the rugged climb, scrambling over those rocks and roots, passing pristine waterfalls on wooden rough-hewn bridges, along a winding, switchback mountain trail. Although just a handful of years old myself then, I still recall being entranced by clear creek water flowing down over fallen logs and rocks, safely guiding us children along the trail. Emerging from the forest veil, we beheld one of nature’s truly spectacular wonders, a crystal clear lake nestled high up there on the mountain.
With these images firmly implanted upon my young mind, some years back on Father’s Day packed the family into the van, and drove through Granite Falls into the Mount Baker-Snoqualmie National Forest, up to the Lake Twenty-Two trailhead. Hiking that still recognizable path, we rediscovered a place just as glorious as from distant memory. Satisfying some inner need to share this place of natural beauty with Andy, his own experience now includes: The challenge of a hiking up that difficult trail, with the reward of this amazing view.
When considering places to go camping, this year we decided on somewhere nearby, those mountains closer to home. Stuffed all the gear we could fit into the Subaru Forester, set off down the interstate, then after an hour or so, reached the welcoming shadow of Mount Pilchuck. Arriving at our home away from home, we secured a nice tent site at the Verlot Campgrounds, snuggled there against the banks of the Stillaguamish River. Along with essentials like fresh running water, and sanitation basics including flush toilets and sinks, everyone at Verlot has access to the river, which is great for cooling tired feet after a long day hiking. Also, from this convenient base camp, we could explore many of the back roads scattered along the mountain loop highway, plus numerous lakes and scenic viewpoints known to be hidden along the way.
Taking the three mile hike up to Lake Twenty-Two wasn’t too difficult for us at all. Luckily we found a good parking spot in the lot, and following the cool of that same babbling creek, we continued up the trail, where about half way up, we paused to watch familiar cascading waterfalls. With just enough shady trees to save us from heatstroke during the climb, we arrived to see a beautiful mountain lake waiting there, with spectacular reflections on the water, bathed in the bright light of an August sun. Rather more crowded than I remembered, it seems Lake Twenty-Two has become quite the popular hiking destination. Improvements include a new boardwalk, adding convenient access to approximately a third of the shoreline, which also happens to make great photographs all that much easier. Feeling a sentimental continuity just being here, walking this same lake shore with my family again, I remembered our grandfather fondly giving us this special place, and imagined how Andy might take his own children hiking here one day too.
On a different afternoon, driving a little further up the road, we made the couple mile trek up to the Big Four Ice Caves. Apparently this is a fairly well maintained trail too, as the walk up includes a tremendous prefabricated aluminum bridge that spans a rock strewn mountain river. A truly impressive landscape, cradled there against a stark mountain face, torrent of water falling from high above, this huge mass of hollowed out ice resting on a field of broken rocks. Slowly approaching the mottled surface, cautiously aware of not entering the cave, or to get within crushing distance of any potentially deadly falling ice chunks.
We also went up to lovely Heather Lake, a namesake for my beautiful wife, but which turned out not to be the pleasant kind of hike we’ve come to expect. Please don’t misunderstand, the view from Heather Lake is absolutely amazing, rimmed with tall green grass, and crystal clear mountain water that reflects images of trees and rocks that line the lake shore. Simply beautiful. However, the trail is currently in poor condition, sections littered with dangerous broken rocks and tripping type roots, or places where the trail was simply washed out entirely. This hike ranks among the worst we’ve ever taken, and certainly seems much longer than the reported five mile round trip. A serious pain during the extremely arduous descent, I appreciated the foresight of bringing along a stout walking stick to lean upon.
Yet there was also another relatively short and easy hike made up to Bear Lake, being a little over a mile stroll each way. Clearly the tree clustered shoreline of this particular mountain lake sees an abundance of regular visitors (often Boy Scouts will camp here) thus fire rings dotting several small campsites. However, although having a picturesque quality all its own, due to an overwhelming swarm of very hungry mosquitoes living there, we were forced in retreat back to Verlot, safe by the cool, and relatively bug free river.
Also made a one day side excursion north, driving over the Mountain Loop Highway road, if you can dare call that washboard and cratered goat path a “highway.” Still, our AWD Forester managed to complete the trip over to Darrington successfully, stopping to eat a hearty and nutritious brunch at the Hawks Nest. Naturally, we visited the local used books and coffee shop, while there talking with a most congenial proprietor. Driving our way back to camp, we pulled over frequently to take quickie little hikes, like the Old Sauk Interpretive Trail, with scenic stops at viewpoints along this unpaved “highway” paralleling the river. Actually kind of surprised by how many folks were simply free camping down on the riverbank, leading to some rather heavy traffic on a very dusty, rutted stretch of road.
Reaching the top of one last hill on that dirt highway, we pulled off at the Barlow Point Trailhead. This turned out to be a fairly strenuous hike, a steep climb up endless switchbacks, ultimately arriving on top of a hard, rocky outcrop. From this vantage point we could see the entire river valley stretching for miles far below, trees reaching up craggy mountain pinnacles, a vision blanketed in shades of infinite greens. A serious scramble on our way back down too, the trail was just as steep, both rocky and rooted. Turning on a different path at a sign heading back, we returned through the Barlow Cut, an interesting historic location, well worth those few extra steps taken at the end.
As always, our happy camper family met nice folks while at the Verlot Campgrounds, some of whom provided amusement while there. Our neighbors to the west, a young couple of twenty-somethings, thin woman in stretch pants or shorts, while the guy, a bit more than a little overweight, was always showing about 6 inches of butt crack whenever he sat down! Kind of like a car crash, difficult to watch, but hard to look away from too. Certain things seem funny to us, like sounds of a wheezing air pump struggling to inflate a leaky air mattress night after night, giggling to remember how we camped on them years ago too. There was a kindly neighbor in a pop-up camper to our east, offering a pile of dry cedar kindling for the fire, which he seemed to genuinely enjoy chopping with his very sharp hand ax. After afternoon hikes, we walked down to the pebbly river beachfront to rest, sitting on the smooth rocks in cool water, refreshing achy muscles. In the evening, Heather and I would either be reading our books, or playing fierce backgammon while Andy kibbitzed. Built warm, crackly campfires, over which we made traditional marshmallow s’mores, or on alternate nights, we ate fresh Jiffy Pop popcorn.
This was certainly a very easy vacation as these things happen… Camping closer to our own backyard surely made the whole adventure much more pleasant for everyone. We returned relaxed, and following showers and laundry, felt totally refreshed. Even Leo the cat seemed affectionately pleased that his humans were finally home again, safe and sound.
“Keep close to Nature’s heart… and break clear away, once in a while, and climb a mountain or spend a week in the woods. Wash your spirit clean.”
– John Muir
