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Category Archives: Chelan/Sawtooth Wilderness

Abernathy Peak Ski

Posted on May 24, 2018 by evejakubowski
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Gardener and North Gardener peaks

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Thistle!

I wanted a lazy overnight trip because I had barely unpacked or organized anything after moving into my new house on Wednesday. Luckily Brad was willing to wait an extra morning to have company, so I got to spend Friday night and Saturday morning making my house look habitable and we took off around noon on Saturday after I even managed to knock out a St. Helens blog post. How’s that for a productive morning?!

  • Distance: ~11 miles (13 because we went up and down twice)
  • Elevation: 5,000ft gain, 8,321ft highest point
  • Weather: 40’s and rainy, 60’s and sunny
  • Commute from Seattle: don’t look 4:41 with no traffic
  • Did I Trip: Nope!! Slipped on skins a bit in slush but no faceplants thank you very much
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Indian paintbrush and… a yellow wildflower!

We got started from the trailhead around 5:30pm, taking advantage of the long summer day to get up to camp. We were planning on camping on the ridge, but the approach took longer than we thought. Or we left later than we thought. Or (my excuse) the drive was way longer than I thought. And when we got to the trailhead, the road was blocked off with caution tape. Shit. We looked at each other and said fuck it and ducked underneath it. Falling trees be damned. We hoped they were just talking about the trees near the parking lot and campground.

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Abernathy in the clouds above Scatter Lake

We started booting it up the trail, skis strapped to packs. The trail was low grade, pleasant, winding through green forest with intermittent sunshine and drizzle. Wildflowers were out! You could smell the pine needles in the air. We started to panic. Where the hell was the snow? We thought it was a 3 mile approach to the lake and it had been almost two hours. Shit. A) we’re still not at the lake and B) Where. Is. The. Snow. What if there is no snow?! The guy before us in the trail register said his destination was “snow!” but he never confirmed whether he found it or not! Oh god.

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Switching to boots (Photo by Brad)

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Skinning up as the skies clear

Luckily we ran into patchy snow and consistent snow soon after (~5,500ft). We continued to boot it because I’m too lazy (stubborn?) to transition and the snow was perfectly consolidated for booting. You finally break into sparse trees, but wait! There’s another like 600ft to the lake, and you have to make it a rising traverse from left to right or you’ll cliff out. It went on forever. Probably because the sun was setting, the approach was a solid mile longer than we thought, we were carrying skis because of my stubbornness, and you know when your’e so close yet so far? It was like that.

We finally got up to the lake just at twilight. The top of the peak was in clouds and we booted out to a rock patch on the other side of the lake to have a better starting point. I popped up my tent while Brad set up his bivy. I enjoyed a hot meal of chicken chili, first dehydrated meal of the year I think! I’ve barely camped! I boiled some water so I’d have a hot nalgene, and went to sleep. And slept like a baby. At least, once everything dried. The first hour was a little damp from the drizzle.
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Standing there with his stupid ski crampons

My first alarm went off at 3:30, but the peak was still socked in by clouds and it was drizzling yet again so I turned it off and went back to sleep. The second alarm was at 4:30, and I dozed for 15 minutes before asking Brad if he wanted to give it a shot anyway. We started up just after 5, and holy crap it was the right choice. The clouds lifted and cleared as we got higher, and by the time we summitted it was blue skies and views! It’s a very straightforward snow walk up to the top from the lake. I stopped skinning halfway up because I was getting weirdly anxious skinning on crust and felt better in boots. Brad amazed me with his skinning confidence on the ice until I realized he had been wearing freaking ski crampons the whole time. Dammit Brad.

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Horsheshoe cloud around Reynolds

We walked the “ridge” to the summit and savored the views for probably an hour. Scanned all the names in the summit register to see who we recognized, snapped pictures in every direction, mocked my friends with pictures because I had Alpine Verizon cell service, took some naps… gotta kill time until the crust turns to corn. We finally got impatient and I decided I’d just boot it down if it was still crusty. Ugh. So not stoked. So Brad switched to skis as I booted down the ridge.

Except by the bottom of the ridge, the crust was getting softer. And 100ft below that, it was feeling a little corny. And Brad shouted back up to me. It only gets better!! I stopped and clicked into my skis. Bring on the corn baby!
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Skiing mellow corn (photo by Brad)

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Seas of peaks

The ski back to camp was phenomenal. Hero corn (with a few patches of crust here and there) which makes you feel like an amazing skiier. And straight down the line of fall, at least for the most part. We were back at camp within minutes. We packed a little bit, had some snacks, and realized it wasn’t even 10am. Do you… what if we… we should go up again. Maybe just to the rocks below the ridge. It would be a waste to get back to the trailhead at like 11am. And so I skinned all the way up this time, breaking trail through slush (Brad’s crust crampon trail was too steep). I had second-summit-fever and wanted to ski off the top this time. I waited for Brad for a bit but didn’t see him, though I did meet the only other person in the area who was headed for the Northeast couloir of Abernathy, a dope ski that I’ll shred in my dreams but never in real life. He had been hoping to ski down that side and then hit up Gardner and North Gardener, never did hear if he was successful. They’re melting out fast.

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Woo!

I finally just switched to downhill mode and took off to find Brad. I made my first turn and immediately set off a small slab avalanche that went right out from under my feet along with a shit ton of sloughing, which ran for a few hundred feet down a gully that was not part of the standard route, thank god. The slab was barely 8′ across so I ski cut the rest of the slope to send whatever else was left on its way and headed back down the way I came up. Spring skiing! After mildly shitting myself I skiied the lowest angle terrain back to Brad, who was just above the only other section I was concerned about. I told him what had happened and that we were doing this one in shifts. I skiied down to a tree patch that was out of the way if he set anything off. No more slab, but plenty of large sloughing rollerballs to ski through. I waved him down and we skiied the next section separately until we were on mellow terrain, where we cruised back to camp once again.

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Back at camp

This time we decided to officially head down, since it probably wasn’t going to get much better up there. 2,000ft of turns isn’t too shabby for one morning.

We skiied more on the way down. I switched to downhill mode for the traverse down from the lake but left the skins on thinking we’d have flatter skinning ahead. Brad started down in walk mode. I passed him. Brad switched to downhill mode and took skins off. Brad passed me. I lost a skin and had to trek back up to get it. I put the skin back on my ski (why, Eve?!) and went back into walk mode. I practiced my telemark turns and grumbled about everything steeper than 20 degrees. We ran out of snow pretty quickly though, and switched back to booting it. Oh god. My feet. The hotspots were fine when moving, but getting moving after stopping for a few seconds was brutal. Oh, and Brad lost a ski strap. And then I broke a buckle on his pack. But hiking a few miles of what was basically summer trail with heat and sunshine and wildflowers… damn if it isn’t beautiful.
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What is this tree?

I’m stumped (ha) by the tree on the left. I stopped dead in my tracks because it’s like a weeping willow, except it’s a conifer. It has pine needles. Those aren’t broken dropping branches, they just grow like that. I don’t know anything about the flora out here and I’m super curious what this is because I don’t think I’ve seen anything like it. Between this and the wildflowers and the dappled sunlight and the soon-to-be-stifling heat, it felt like July. It was hard to believe that we had just been making turns on several feet of consistent snow and that it was only mid May. Shoulder season is the best.

We popped back out at the trailhead around 1pm and went straight to Winthrop for burgers and cold beer. Ahhhh. And we enjoyed them at Old Schoolhouse Brewery, which is right on the river. I’m getting my Mazama cabin someday, just you wait. Maybe in 30 years after I’ve paid off this house. 2048. I’ll have a jumping off point for everything in the northeastern Cascades, the one corner I barely touch. Imagine coming from a sweet peak like this back to your log cabin by the river on a sunny day, it’s not even fair. Spectacular area out there, and just as wild as the west side.
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Surrounded by peaks? Better focus on the ground

Posted in Backcountry Skiing, Chelan/Sawtooth Wilderness, Eastern Washington | 2 Comments

Sunrise & Cooney Lakes, Cooney & Martin Peaks

Posted on October 11, 2017 by evejakubowski
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Me walking next to Sunrise Lake (photo credit Surafel)

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Hug a larch (Photo by Surafel)

Most of my friends know how I feel about larches. Simply put, they are the best. The larches, not my friends.* They are the steak of the flora universe, the closest a plant can come to perfection. They are the only thing out here that rivals New England foliage. They are brilliantly yellow, and when set against bright blue skies and fresh white snow they are like candy for your eyes. It’s unreal. So once a year, I get admittedly manic about getting a sunny larch trip in, because these trees really have like a 2-week window (not even, 2 weeks only applies if you look at different areas) and one of those weekends I’m either busy or the weather is lousy and that means I only have one weekend of larches. I cannot emphasize how strongly I feel about this. I can climb any other weekend of the year but there is only one larch weekend. Getting a second larch weekend is like double cereal box prizes or a double-yolk egg or getting an extra bag of cheez-its cause the vending machine messed up. Except even better.

 

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A more huggable larch (photo by Brad)

So sometimes, that means suffering through a miserable (or in this case mildly uncomfortable, more of an annoyance than anything else) day to get the good day. It happened at Snowy Lakes two years ago, it happened in the Enchantments last year (but I was sleeping in a car), and it happened again this year, though it was more like a half day this time.

  • Distance: 23ish miles
  • Elevation Gain: Net 5100ft but lots of up and down (highest point 8375)
  • Weather: 20’s and windy and snowing, 40’s and sunny
  • Commute from Seattle: 4:30… but worth it. Avoid rush hour.
  • Did I Trip: Yes, 3 times, only one witnessed
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What if there are no larches?!

We drove out late Friday night, leaving the Eastgate park n ride around 8 and getting to the trailhead just before midnight (yes!). I was going to be lazy and mooch off someone else’s tent because I didn’t want to unpack my pack but I sucked it up and put up my tent. Ugh. The forecast was for something like 55mph winds and precip up in the mountains, so I was happy to be camping low. We only got poured on for like 30 minutes. We woke up at 6am (I was the alarm – “ding ding ding ding it’s time for the morning!” because mine didn’t go off) and drove the rest of the way to the trailhead, where we started moving. This was it this was larch weekend!!

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Lower Merchants’ Basin

The trail is unbelievably well maintained. It’s open to dirtbikes, mountain bikes, horses, hikers, and it’s just in such great shape I couldn’t believe it. The first 5 miles were through the woods with only sneak peaks of mountains, and I started to panic that we wouldn’t see larches. What if they’re all still green?? I don’t see any through the trees and the brush that usually turns red in fall is green and only getting greener as we get higher!! Gah!! After a few hours of me raving about larches and ranting about possibly not seeing them, we finally broke out into Merchants Basin, where we originally planned on setting up camp. Eric had given us the go ahead to cruise to Sunrise Lake and meet him back at the basin, so we carried on to the lake, which is a short 2mi (round trip) detour from the basin.

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This is your frame! (Photo by Brad)

A half mile up the trail from Merchants Basin to Sunrise Lake, we were suddenly surrounded by gold. We hit a switchback and Surafel had the quote of the day. “This is it!! This is your frame! Guys take pictures of me.” He didn’t have his camera out yet so Brad and I started snapping pictures. Brad’s pics won. I can’t even put it into words. Walking through golden larches in fresh snow and bright sunshine is just surreal. This is me, every single time. I was so excited I tripped. “ONE!” Brad shouted. I had counted all of his trips on Glacier peak so now this is a thing. Surafel didn’t trip at all, that coordinated bastard.

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Surafel by Sunrise Lake (photo by ME!!!)

Also, let’s make something clear right now. These guys are the two best photographers I know. Yeah yeah you’re all great and it’s hard to take a shitty photo when you’re in places like this but Surafel and Brad have ridiculously good eyes for colors and composure and angle and all the variables I don’t know. Surafel can make fog in trees look cool and Brad took a picture of the milky way in like 20 seconds when we did Glacier Peak which I thought was like a 5 hour process. And then there’s me with my point n shoot. Pointing and shooting. It’s like when the parents carve jack’o’lanterns but let the kid make a crappy one and praise the kid the whole time because the kid worked hard even though she had no idea what she was doing and the jack’o’lantern doesn’t even look like a face. I’m the kid.

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Brad and Surafel above Sunrise Lake

With all of the larches, we knew we were getting close. “If I was a lake I’d be RIGHT…. HERE” the excitement in my voice rose as we rounded the corner to what was definitely a lake basin. And the colors were absurd. Bright yellow larches, bright blue water, bright white snow on the partially sunny, partially shaded ridge in the backdrop. Brad had the great idea to go to the ridge above the lake which was just a hike, so off we went. The trails just keep going and going, it’s hard to turn around. I hugged so many larches. When I got back someone asked me “did you go all white girl ‘i can’t even’ and hug everything” and I laughed. Actually…. yes. Yes I did. I even took a larch selfie, which is second only to starbucks coffee duck face selfies.

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Upper Merchants’ Basin (Sunrise Lake in the basin over the ridge)

Finally on top of the ridge we had views of the other side, and I got to revisit the feeling of being entirely surrounded by mysterious mountains. What’s that one and how do I get up it? I am completely unfamiliar with this area. I’m used to being a peak dictionary and here I didn’t even have guesses at what the names were. There was a wall of weather beyond the second or third ridge that I hoped wouldn’t come our way but we all knew it would happen. It was freezing, so we snapped pics quickly and started to head down when we heard a “woo!” from the lake. It was Eric! He had decided to join us! We hurried down and met him where we had stashed our packs, making sure to stop every 50ft to take pictures and hug larches.

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Heading up Switchback/Cooney Peak, Sunrise Lake in the back

We were back at Merchants Basin quickly, and decided to camp at Cooney Lake instead because a) more larches and b) we had soooo much time left in the day. And it was a better jumping off point for Martin, which I wanted to do because I like peaks. We headed up through the basin to the pass southeast of Switchback/Cooney Peak as the clouds moved in and the wind continued to gust, and took a quick detour to the summit. Apparently some Bulgers are walk ups. Who knew? It almost ruins the appeal but I guess I can suck it up in the name of larches.

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Brad on one of the many summit bumps of Switchback/Cooney

We followed a mountain bike trail to the ridge (Angel’s Staircase, which was not necessary, we actually overshot the summit) where we scrambled up the snowy talus to the summit. There was no survey marker, no summit register, and three solid bumps that could all have been the summit. “Do you think it’s the left or right one??” Brad looked back at me and laughed. “Both!” Better stand on all of them! We tagged each bump, I looked desperately for a summit register, and I finally gave up since my fingers were MIA and Brad had donned his overmitts meaning he wasn’t doing much better and we backtracked to the trail as nimbly as we could on snowy talus.

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Me on top of Cooney/Switchback (photo by Brad)

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Cooney Lake (photo by Brad)

On our way back to the pass we came across Eric, who had claimed he had no interest in Switchback but nonetheless was on his way to the summit(s). Eric is like a human summitpost. Or a walking caltopo of the entire state of WA. You name it he’s done it and he’ll know all of the secrets of the route. Cooney Peak was old news and yet here he was about to bag it again. We’ll see you at camp! We dropped down to Cooney Lake after chatting with a few mountain bikers (I’ll admit I was a little jealous) and started surveying campsites. Is this one big enough for four tents? Okay now everyone stand still until the wind gusts so we can see how well sheltered it is. We couldn’t feel fingers or toes and the gusts of wind were brutal. Re-adjusting to winter is always tough, summer makes you a wimp. We had originally planned on doing Martin Peak that day as well, but no one seemed in the mood, and it was in the clouds anyway, so meh. My motivation decreases exponentially as views decrease.

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Fall foliage at Cooney Lake

We finally settled on a camp and pitched tents. I guyed the shit out of mine because I hate wind. I made a liter of earl grey tea and snuggled in my sleeping bag trying to get comfortable before venturing back out into the wind. Two mice and a chipmunk ran around a nearby tree, obviously scouting out my tent for their evening date with my snacks. Everyone was in their tents with doors unzipped just enough for faces to poke out. “I hope Eric just.. finds us” I said. I was resigned to doing laps around the lake to look for him. But immediately after I said that, we heard him shout! Yes!! Surafel shouted back and Eric made his way over to us. That could not have worked out better. And he didn’t see a register on Cooney Peak either, so I think there just isn’t a register. Someone bring one up!

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Sunrise the following morning

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Brad and Surafel coming up Martin, Cooney/Switchback Peak in the back

After a few hours of getting warm, the wind finally calmed down enough for Surafel to take a picture of larch reflections in the lake, which was the only thing that could coax Brad out from his tent. I followed, and we walked around to check out the rest of the lake. Some campers were having a bonfire nearby with a sweet dog who was in heaven in the snow and was a guaranteed space heater for whoever shared his tent. I like the idea of bonfires, but I also feel like a rotisserie chicken trying to get warm so in cold weather I’m not motivated enough to stick around. Clouds had settled on Cooney Peak, and naturally the wind picked back up immediately after we ventured outside, so I snuck back to my tent where I finally caved and put on long underwear. I avoided putting on the heavy bibs I had lugged all the way there. Gotta toughen up. Winter is here!

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Brad nearly at the top of Martin

Dinner was quick. I reheated homemade sausage stew instead of bringing a dehydrated meal, which was a fantastic idea besides the fact that it makes the stove dirty. Brad had remembered gas and a stand and had forgotten the actual stove part of his stove (we aren’t going to let him live that down) so we all shared stoves. We went to bed fairly early given the lack of sun, views, warmth, meh. I did get to use my multicolored camp light that Kacie gave me a while ago, which rarely makes an appearance. I laughed flipping through colors just like she did when I first met her. I followed all of that up with a liter of hot chocolate, and finally went to sleep waiting for the aforementioned mice to ruthlessly ravage my tent.

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Martin Lakes below, also a larch destination

Amazingly, they didn’t bother me. For once. Must have been too cold for small rodents, and they were all hiding in their burrows. Good. Perks of winter. I’ll leave some crumbs behind tomorrow as a thank you, sweet mice. I dozed in and out, never quite falling asleep despite my seldom-occuring tolerance of camping in the forest. My alarm failed to go off at 6am again (I must have dreamed that I reset it), so while Brad and Surafel thought I was being slow to get ready, I was actually just sleeping. Like that’s any better. I woke up to one of them walking around at 6:40ish with the sky lit up pink and purple and a huge moon over the saddle between Cooney and Martin. I made tea since Brad and Surafel seemed content taking pictures at the sunny lake. Yes, good weather!! I was glad we had saved Martin Peak for today.

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Looking back at Cooney Lake and Switchback/Cooney Peak

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Brad on top of Martin Peak

We started up to Martin around 7:30am and summitted in like 45 minutes. The larches by the lake were practically radiating liquid gold, and as the ground changed to dusted talus the  views only got better. There wasn’t enough rime ice to be problematic, especially on the sunny side. We spent longer on the summit than we took getting to the summit. It’s another walk up (well, talus field), and damn the views were stunning. Larches in every direction. The clouds from Saturday had lifted and we could finally see all the topography to the west. There are so many incredibly mellow ridgelines here, it’s a trailrunner’s paradise. I can’t wait to go on a run out there. We somehow forgot to take a summit selfie despite my strong game the previous day.

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Toilet!! (Photo by Brad)

We cruised back down to the lake where we went to the opposite side to get reflection photos (or in my case, pics of people taking pics) and then went to meet Eric and pack up camp. We had decided to take the Foggy Dew Ridge trail back to the road since Eric was seeking peaks he had not yet bagged, and that meant we’d hike a mile of road (small barf) back to the car instead of backtracking our original route so it was a more adventurous hike. From Cooney Lake we followed the Martin Lakes trail until it intersected with Foggy Dew Ridge. We actually missed the intersection and had to do some bushwacking (more like rock hopping) but we found it quickly. And on the way, we found a spectacular backcountry toilet by Cooney Lake, brand spankin’ new. It’s probably not as cool when the larches aren’t yellow and it doesn’t rival Eldorado or Boston Basin’s toilets but hey it’s quite pleasant.

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Braaaaand freakin’ new. Who wants to christen it?!

We found the most prominent high point on the ridge first, and picked our way up through white granite and black lichen and steep meadows. Naturally I topped out on what I thought was the highest point, only to turn to Eric. “Bad news…” He looked at me, not surprised at all. “Not the true high point?” “Nope. It’s like 500ft to the right.” Luckily it was easy terrain to go to the true high point, where the views of what we had climbed in the prior 24 hours were epic.

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Photographers looking for photo ops at the end of Cooney Lake

The Foggy Dew Ridge trail does not match what’s on the map, more like it parallels the mapped trail a few hundred feet higher than the map claims. But it’s easy enough to follow thanks to mountain bike traffic. We went through rolling meadows, mellow larchey ridges, bright green mossy trees. The only bad part of this trip was how dusty the last few miles of this trail were. It would puff up all around you and god forbid you walk behind someone, it’s like driving on a forest road behind a truck spitting up rocks and obscuring your view with dust and then you breathe it all in and it sticks to you and you know you’ll look tan when you finish but it’s actually just dust. But it was totally worth it. Taking the ridge route back was far more interesting than retracing our route in, and rewarded us with some pretty sweet views.

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Eric coming up to the most prominent point on Foggy Dew Ridge

We got back to the road around 4:30 and were back at the car by 5. Sweet!! We changed shoes and hopped in the car. We’re even going to be back in Seattle by a reasonable hour! And I was glad to have some daylight left – even if it feels like it means I haven’t utilized the day to its fullest potential, it meant I could see the drive down route 153, and for anyone who doesn’t know, I basically dream of getting property somewhere between Methow and Mazama on 153 or highway 20. Someday it’ll happen.

We stopped at Arby’s where I got a Meat Mountain which is literally 1.5oz of every meat that they offer in a bowl (or on a sandwich) with swiss and cheddar cheeses. Are you drooling? You should be drooling. It was amazing. I snuggled in my sleeping bag in the back seat of the car while Brad (MVP for driving) took us home.
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Selfie game on point (photo by Brad)

Awesome thanks to Eric for the location idea (I literally had only heard of Sunrise Lake, nothing else in this area) and Brad and Surafel for pulling it all together!! And for all of the insane pictures. I had never checked this part of the Cascades out before since it was such a long drive, but it was so worth it and I can’t wait to go back. It blows my mind that we have this type of beauty and it isn’t national park status. I even considered making the drive again this weekend just for a one day trip, but I think the larches are now past their peak. Larches are the best. Just gotta wait another 365 days for them to peak again in 2018, and maybe (definitely) I could be convinced to take a larch vacation.

*ok, my friends are okay too.
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One of the best photos of the trip. Awesome lighting. Photo by Brad.

Edit: Happy three year anniversary to the blog 🙂

Posted in Backpacking, Chelan/Sawtooth Wilderness, Fall Foliage, Scrambles | 11 Comments
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