The Enchantments: Best Hike in Washington State

The Enchantments have been touted as the best hike in Washington State and from my experience it is. Located in the Alpine Lakes Wilderness in the heart of the Cascade Mountains, the Enchantments are a series of high alpine lakes surrounded by towering granite spires, green flowering meadows, and meandering streams. And mountain goats. Lots of goats.

You can begin the Enchantment loop either at Snow Lakes trailhead or the Stuart/Colchuck Lakes trailhead. Most people opt to begin at the Stuart Lake trailhead because the elevation gain is slightly less, although you will have to conquer Aasgard Pass which is a feat even for the fit. The Stuart Lake trailhead is 9 or so miles beyond the Snow Lakes trailhead (trails 1599 and 1599.1) and you will be hiking about 6 miles and about 4400 feet of elevation gain to the top of the basin, but be warned – 2300 of that 4400 feet is gained in a single mile up Aasgard Pass. This route is often described as a level above the Snow Lake route, but many people actually prefer this way in. If you approach from the Snow Lakes trailhead about 4 miles outside of Leavenworth on Icicle Creek road (trail 1553), you have roughly 10 miles and 6000 feet of elevation gain before you reach the bottom of the Enchantments.

In order to camp overnight in the Enchantments, you have to either win a lottery that is held in February or try and get one of two permits issued daily. Luckily, my friend Chris won the lottery for two nights at Snow Lakes. She had been excited for this hike for months! The plan was to begin the hike at Snow Lakes trailhead, camp at upper Snow Lake, day hike to the Enchantments, and return hike to Snow Lake trailhead. Chris, being a bit older with knee replacements, didn’t want to take on Aasgard Pass. I’ve been to Colchuck Lake multiple times and was absolutely fine not hiking the challenging Pass.

(Top of Aasgard Pass looking down upon Colchuck Lake)

I was to meet up with Chris and Christina at Upper Snow Lakes that evening because I had to work that day. Unfortunately, I got a message that Chris took a fall while hiking and they were at the hospital. I went to the hospital to find that Chris had tripped while hiking and face-planted into a rock. She broke her nose, split open her lip, and knocked her four front teeth loose. Chris and Christina told me to go on with the hike and put that permit to use. I felt horrible leaving them behind, but I couldn’t let this opportunity pass me by.

Off to a rocky start… but I left the trailhead at about 4pm and got to Upper Snow Lake to camp at about 8pm. Roughly 7 miles in 4 hours, not bad. This was my sunset that greeted me that evening…

The next morning, I took off to the Enchantment Basin. The hike from Snow Lakes to Lake Vivian, the first lake, is a buttkicker. Blisters had set into my heels at this point. At Lake Vivian, I got to see my first mountain goat. He was enjoying the view.

Continuing on, I saw several more goats. The goats are attracted to the salt in urine, so beware where you pee! I even saw this lady trying to pet the goat. Warning – do not try to pet or feed wild animals. The goats may seem docile, but they can be unpredictable.

Hiking from lake to lake, the views were spectacular!

It truly is the must-do hike in Washington. If you plan on tackling this strenuous hike, I suggest preparing with several day hikes and lots of conditioning to get the legs, feet, and back in shape.

Grey Matter

On a beautiful summer’s day in the Sierra Nevada’s a call came in over the radio. The excited voice of a trail crew member reported there was a CPR in progress, a kid had fallen 20 feet at Tokopah Falls about 1.5 miles from the trail head.

My partner and I threw off our duty belts and bulletproof vests, grabbed our EMS bags and AED, and started hastily up the trail. Updates over the radio provided little information, CPR was continuing, maybe a pulse?

Arriving on scene, the victim was located on the rocks on the river below the falls. He had fallen 100 feet, not 20. Bystanders that had witnessed the kid fall were performing CPR. They were covered in the 19 yr-old boy’s blood. My first thought, “PPE.” Two friends of the victim were also there screaming, in shock, and encouraging their friend through there tears to live. CPR had already been performed for at least 45 minutes. I knew the boy was dead, but CPR at that point is no longer performed for the dead victim, but the living.

My partner and I told the bystanders to continue CPR as we readied the AED and oxygen. Our adrenaline was pumping, “Take a breath,” said our supervisor having just arrived on scene, placing his hand on my partner’s shoulder. I took over bagging. Not an easy task. The boy had fallen 100 feet, most likely had broken his neck, and had a large gash on his forehead. Gray matter. Every time I squeezed the bag, air would wheeze out of the hole in his head, along with a small spray of brain and blood. A C-collar didn’t help. I couldn’t get air to his lungs. His trachea crushed? Perhaps. Others arrived to help. I tried placing one my palms over the hole as I squeezed to deflect the air. I looked over at my partner, giving him a kind of shrug, a shrug that said, “I don’t know what else to do, this kid is clearly dead.”

Our supervisor was on the radio with the hospital, giving the report to the doctor, following protocol. I heard over the radio the doctor said we could stop. Time of death …. pm. Crap, we forgot the body bag. “Anyone got a blanket?” Us responders were extremely thirsty. We had run up the trail, forgetting necessities like water. Onlookers gladly shared their water with us.

And then you wait, recover, exhausted. The action is over. The helicopter was enroute to long-line the body out. Our supervisor asked us who wanted to hike out and take information back to Command, I said I would.

While hiking out, I was advised that fellow officers and a family liaison were at the campsite of the victim, but the mother was not there. I was instructed to locate the mother, get her back to the campsite, and not inform her that her son was dead. Fantastic.

I got back to my patrol car, changed back into my vest and duty belt, and drove to the Lodge where the boy’s vehicle had been parked. Maybe she was there. As I drove into the Lodge’s parking lot, a small frantic Hispanic women ran toward me and waved me down. She didn’t know her son was dead. She flagged me down to tell me her son and his friends were late returning from their day hike, “They’re never late,” she said, “Something is wrong.” In honest they were only an hour late, which is no big emergency any other day. I could feel my voice crack as I told her to follow me back to her campsite. She looked at me confused and wondered why I wasn’t helping her. Choke back the tears, don’t cry, don’t lose it, stay strong… It wasn’t my worst day of my life, but hers. I told her I would drive her or she could follow me in her car. I felt like an asshole. She was frustrated with me, but agreed to follow me the 20 minutes back to her campsite.

As I rounded the corner to the campsite, two other patrol vehicles were already parked. The two boys that had been with their best friend during his last moments had made it there too. The boys had told me their best friend’s last words were, “Watch your step, it’s slippery up here.” The mother almost crashed her car arriving at the campsite. I probably should have driven her.

The mother was hysterical. An officer gently grabbed her, trying to notify her that her son was dead, and she screamed. That scream. It’s haunting. Fellow campers just froze and stared, wondering what was happening. The campground fell silent except for the wailing mother. The father, daughter, and the two boys were mostly quiet as the mother’s grief engulfed the moment. The mother crying and yelling in both English and Spanish, went over to her daughter and said, “Why did it have to be him? Why not you?!”

A rage, fury, and sadness overcame me at that moment. I wanted to punch that grieving mother. I pulled that 16 yr-old girl aside and in my clumsy, inexperienced way told her that her mother did not mean what she said, she just lost her son, and it was the grief talking. I knew I was lying, but how dare that mother tell her child something like that. I knew those words would linger and would haunt that poor girl for life.

The family, officers, and I packed up the camp. The parents needed to travel to headquarters to identify the body and make arrangements. While rolling up a sleeping bag, I looked down at my gray uniform shirt. Blood mist from bagging. Fuck.

The father walked up to me holding two very large sugar pine cones and in broken English asked me if he could take them as remembrance. “I never return to park. It beautiful, but no. I take? You understand?”

“Yes,” I shook my head, “You may take the pinecones.”

The Eye in the Sky

The sun’s halo today was amazing. Can’t help but think that you ARE being watched.

How to Create Art

Take an ordinary black and white photo:

And use photoshop to make it pop.  Up the gamma correction, use a filter, and presto… ART!

I think photoshop is the greatest tool ever.  At least I think it makes all my photos look a thousand times better.  Maybe I should consider just taking better photos… but what’s the fun in that : )

Don’t Fall for a Photo

It’s a repeated scenario every year:  Hiker is missing.  He was hiking alone.  His backpack was found near a water feature.  His camera is missing too.  His body is (hopefully) recovered days later downstream. 

It’s tempting to get that awesome waterfall photo, especially during spring run-off.  The water is explosive and thrilling.  But BEWARE!  Those rocks that aren’t even wet are still slick and dangerous.  

Yosemite is notorious for the missing photographer.  Or the family that wants that spectacular portrait…and then oops, over the falls the family falls. I had a father put his 10 yr-old on a rock, turned around, the kid was gone but for one shoe.  It’s heartbreaking and preventable. 

Things to consider before you fall:  Is the shot worth it?  What’s your footwear?  If it looks or seems dangerous, it is. Test the rock before you walk on it.  If it feels smooth and polished, no amount of Vibram soles will save you.  And leave a goodbye note on your backpack, just in case you take a tumble. 

The Perfect Pondo

A perfect Ponderosa Pine. I have a brilliant reddish hue.  My bark is a series of puzzle pieces intricately laid and unfitting.

And when aged just right, walk up to the me, and stick your nose in my bark.  I smell like vanilla. 

Backlit

The Grand Tetons,
Backlit by fire smoke,
The backs of firefighters,
Raging to end the flame,
The fireline continues,
Miles of black flora,
Death.
Then patience.
Green appears,
Even in death, there is hope,
And light.

Two Men, One Movie Star

The ever-sexy Robert Downy Johnny Depp Jr.

Musings from a Park Ranger

*Today’s Air Quality: Red. Stay indoors. Outdoor recreation not recommended for all groups.*

The National Parks are facing budget cuts…again. Seasonal rangers are anxious about future employment, permanent rangers are worried about extended furloughs, less training, less travel, and less toys. But what does it all really mean? I don’t know, but here are some random musings and interesting factoids from a former park ranger….

A thermal is not a hot tub.

0% of Yellowstone National Park is designated wilderness, the “Flagship” of the National Parks, while less than 1% of the visitors to Yellowstone ever meander into the backcountry. Yellowstone is a series of pullouts and parking lots for the convenience of the costumer, along with paved trails and boardwalks so patrons can walk a few hundred feet off the road, snap a picture, and experience the Yellowstone highlight reels without any real sense of adventure or risk.

In 20 years the Everglades will disappear into the ocean and it’s predicted that the glaciers in Glacier National Park will be completely gone by 2020. “Welcome to No Glacier National Park, as you can see, the glaciers are shy today.”

Sequoia National Park has the worst air quality of any National Park in the country. The largest Sequoia tree by volume is General Sherman. He has a fence around him in case he tries to escape.

The history of wildland firefighting: In the beginning there was a shovel, now there’s a Pulaski. The End.

The most dangerous thing you will encounter in a National Park is a human.

Overlooking the Grand Canyon you would never know there was a tiny city at the bottom of it or a large unsightly trailer park on the Rim just out of view of visitors. There is one campground on the South Rim and it rarely gets full.

What do you mean I can’t hang-glide off El Cap?!

Some employee housing is spectacular; meaning it has running water, a toilet, a roof, and a mattress. The majority of housing is a mouse infested, insect-ridden, mold infected death trap with hanta-virus and carbon monoxide poisoning lurking around every kitchen. Buyer beware! I’m sure if certain housing or concession structures burned down due to firefighting budget cuts, few tears would be shed.

There’s no law against stupidity. A ranger once said, “It’s everyone’s God given right to die in a National Park!” So you enjoy that swim in the spring runoff.

“No not you, I want to talk to a “real” ranger.”

At Big Bend National Park Mexican Nationals freely cross the Rio Grande on horseback to sell trinkets to visitors or to roundup their wild horses that have wandered into the Park. What was that nonsense America about a secure border?

False advertising: There are no actual retail stores at the National Mall. But you can take a Segway tour.

Stay on the trail. No dogs, cats, birds, lizards, or emus allowed. Llamas ok. “I don’t care if it’s a therapy dog. Oh you need him for your seizures? Then maybe you should rethink that 4 day excursion into the backcountry.”

No those aren’t illegal aliens, that’s just the trail crew.

There are Joshua Trees in Death Valley National Park and Saguaro cacti in Phoenix, Arizona.

You have to win a lottery to hike Half Dome and Mt. Whitney.

Ansel Adams? Nope. Instagram!

Yes the water is safe to drink. Except for that sewage leak from a broken pipe and that dead body found in the intake system.

Drop the pine cone, leave the rocks, and don’t pluck that flower. Don’t shortcut trails, don’t build a campfire, yes that grizzly bear will eat you, don’t pet the bison, yes the bison will gore you in the groin and you WILL lose a testicle. I know marijuana is legal in your state, but you still can’t smoke it here. Yes meth and heroin are illegal too. Guns? Yes you can have a gun, you just can’t shoot it. Secure your food. Do you have a permit? No permit? Then get the HELL OUT OF HERE!!

A Drunken Prayer

My candle flame flickers on my coffee table, a silent vigil that only I appreciate. I pour myself a glass of red wine, an offering to myself after a long day’s work.

Forgive me Lord my trespasses. I am not a forgiving person.

When I was a kid I kicked a boy in the groin to see if it would hurt him. He cried, holding his crotch, and my mom yelled at me. I was no longer curious after that.

I take a sip of my red wine and wonder why over-watering can kill a plant? As if caring too much for something is just as harmful as caring too little. I take another sip. The more I drink the less I care its killing me.

My candle crackles. When I was 9, I almost burned down my garage. I took an empty coffee can, filled it with bark and dry grass, placed it on the wood work bench, and lit it. I clearly had not thought the whole thing through. That’s the beauty of being a child; you’re only aware of the present and ignorant of the consequences.

Another confession, I do not go to church anymore. My apologizes Lord. The calisthenics of a Catholic mass…. sit, stand, sit, kneel, stand…somehow I lost the meaning of the priest’s words as I was calculating the calories I was burning. Maybe that’s why there’s communion, a little replenishment for the famished. “The Body of Christ, the Body of Christ,” the priest would repeat to each patron as he handed out the wafers and wine. I didn’t like eating you Lord, you were always a bit stale.

Lead me not into temptation. This is a difficult one for me. Why did you have to make chocolate so delicious? And men so handsome? I guess if you filled the world with bitter chocolate and ugly men, you would have a lot of moody lesbians and the end of mankind. Good foresight in creating sugar.

The sun sets and darkness descends, a time for supplication. And wine. One can never have enough wine. I think of you Lord, wandering the desert in sandals, and wonder why you didn’t wear socks? It hurts walking on the beach when hot sand sifts in between your sandals and bare feet. I applaud your fashion sense Lord. Wait, maybe I’m confusing you with Moses.

Sometimes in my darkest despair I think of myself as this small insignificant pebble, poised at the edge of the Grand Canyon. I appreciate the view and know a river carved away the layers of earth over eons of time.
But being a pebble I can’t quite see the river. And one day, having absolutely no control, a tourist walks by and kicks me over the edge. I tumble and fall for what seems an eternity until I hit rock bottom. If I could talk as a pebble, I would say, “Ouch! That really, really hurt!” I can no longer see the Canyon and I’m sad knowing I may never have that view again. But then the dust finally settles and I can see the river. It’s colorful, teeming with life, and simply magnificent and somehow I know it was worth all the pain.