Golden Larches of Aasgard Pass

Wednesday Sept 25: We arrived and improvised a Colchuck Lake base camp, Camp 1, on the shoreline as all other camps were taken. Friday, Sept 27: One of our preferred camps opened up and we quickly moved to Camp 2 which was sheltered in the trees and without shoreline boulders to stumble over. While my companions had ascended Aasgard the day prior, on the 26th, a sleepless night kept me in camp while they experienced bluebird conditions.

After actually getting some sleep I was ready for Aasgard and headed up with my friend David, who couldn’t get enough. That and he had lost his camera up there the previous day and was hoping to find it (he did not). It was at least 10 degrees colder on Aasgard than the day prior and as we reached tree island the wind whipped up and it began to snow on us. The upper section of the creek that descends the couloir hosted ice-covered rocks and dramatic icicles. I lost my prescription glasses on Aasgard. And a couple of women from the prior day lost a phone, which one of our guys actually found and returned. I joked that Aasgard is like Mailbox Peak in that both accept offerings. The difference is that Mailbox offerings are voluntary. Aasgard ‘offerings’ are not voluntary; he just takes what he wants.

In my opinion, the trail up Aasgard is more than a grueling ascent to the Enchantment Lakes Basin, it is actually one of the most beautiful parts of the whole journey. Yes, it is strenuous with meandering paths and loose rocks where you’ll find yourself head down navigating relentlessly upward. But if you stop frequently and look up and around, and you really must, you’ll find that it is heartbreakingly beautiful. It’s important to remember to keep left of larch island on the ascent and descent as the stream ravine closer to Dragontail Peak can be treacherous. Many of the larches had turned their brilliant gold and it was wonderful to be among them as we passed through towards Tranquil Lake. And because of their magical presence, the trail to the pass was my favorite part of the trip. 

As we arrived at the pass we descended towards Tranquil Lake, found a windbreak, and had a quick snack. It was frigid, and despite freezing fingers, I set up the tripod for a 360 and actually captured a mountain goat and her kid as they walked by. There were only the faintest patches of blue sky among gray cloud cover and with the weather deteriorating we packed up and headed back to spend a snowy night at our camp at Colchuck Lake. It's impossible to say but given the subsequent snow dump on the pass, we may well have made the last snow-free ascent up Aasgard Pass for that year.

I carried a 20 lb. pack with photo gear up the pass which was fine. But I really wouldn’t want to carry a heavy overnight pack up Aasgard, although people do it. Regarding poles, I did not take them on Aasgard and am glad I didn’t. I used my hands a lot both going up and coming down and I would have found poles an unnecessary nuisance. There are trails up Aasgard and some are very well-traveled and marked. That being said, it is much easier to find them when descending than ascending. Look for the biggest cairns and if your path gets increasingly sketchier, you’re going the wrong way. I found descending easier to navigate but more difficult to hike because there are many sections of loose sand and gravel that require constant attention. Also, if conditions are deteriorating and the rocks are wet, snow-covered, or icy it dramatically increases the difficulty. And the same is true of the boulder field traverse from the lake camps to the Aasgard trail.

Here are the links to the 360 at Tranquil Lake: For best viewing click on the ‘Toggle Fullscreen’ icon in the panel in the upper right of the onscreen image. Then scroll to experience the immersive image. 

Tranquil Lake, Mountain Goats, Alpine Lakes Wilderness, Washington State: https://www.360cities.net/image/tranquil-lake-mountain-goats-alpine-lakes-wilderness-washington-state-usa

Colchuck Lake Galaxy Quest

I won a permit for the Colchuck Zone earlier in the year and invited four of my old hiking and climbing partners to join me. They jumped at the chance and our planning reached a fever pitch as our departure day approached. We were all beyond stoked. Of course, all eyes were on the weather, which had been great for the same week for the prior five years. I had wanted those calendar days because we would be present in the window of a new moon and potentially brilliant starry night skies, with no light pollution and, if clear weather prevailed, the Galactic Core of the Milky Way would be majestically visible, arcing above Colchuck Peak. It was an opportunity for night sky photography that I didn’t want to miss.

Wednesday, Sept 25: Hiking to Colchuck Lake with a 20 lb. day pack is good exercise. And we did just that with an earlier season recon hike. Hiking in with a 50 lb. pack with overnight gear (including 10 lbs. of photo gear) is a real grinder. I brought poles which I found it helpful on the way up and down with an awkwardly heavy pack. We headed to the south end of the lake to try and snag one of the bigger campsites and found them occupied. Fortunately, Mark found some spots among some shoreline boulders which had been underwater a month ago and that’s where we pitched our three tents. This became Camp 1 and we settled in to enjoy Peter’s tasty dinner, which I subsequently named ‘Marinated Steak Argentina’. I took photographs at the camp and we stayed up for the reveal of the Galactic Core of the Milky Way as intermittent clouds drifted over the peaks. The weather looked auspicious. However, that night brutal winds howled in from the north side of the lake and relentlessly pummeled our tents which were exposed on the shoreline. The noise was like being in the path of a jumbo jet landing. I am not exaggerating. The combination of all the incessant wind noise, tent beating, and snoring from one of our guys kept me up all night. Fun.

Unfortunately, we only completed four days of a six-day trip as the weather rapidly deteriorated from sunny, blue sky conditions to howling winds and a good dump of snow, with even more forecasted. It figures. It was the Cascades, a temperamental and unpredictable mountain range with mercurial weather. It was ironic that it was to be a replay of so many of our former mountain adventures where inclement weather often pulled up a seat at the table and dominated the conversation. Nevertheless, we accepted our fortune with grace and remember our brief time up there together as a sweet reunion.

I did capture some spherical panoramas at Colchuck Lake. Two are daytime camp side and two are with the star-filled night sky. The 360s are hosted at 360cities.net. Click the links and for best viewing click on the ‘Toggle Fullscreen’ icon in the panel in the upper right of the onscreen.

Colchuck Lake, Alpine Friends, Alpine Lakes Wilderness, Washington State: https://www.360cities.net/image/colchuck-lake-alpine-friends-alpine-lakes-wilderness-washington-state

Colchuck Lake, Camp Life, Alpine Lakes Wilderness, Washington State: https://www.360cities.net/image/colchuck-lake-camp-life-alpine-lakes-wilderness-washington-state

Colchuck Lake, Milky Way, Alpine Lakes Wilderness, Washington State: https://www.360cities.net/image/colchuck-lake-milky-way-alpine-lakes-wilderness-washington-state

Colchuck Lake, Stargazers, Alpine Lakes Wilderness, Washington State: https://www.360cities.net/image/colchuck-lake-stargazers-alpine-lakes-wilderness-washington-state

An Unplanned Plan B

Early October, the good weather season was drawing to a close. Soon we’d be entering the dreary, gray, drizzling soppiness of the end of the year when the hiking is rarely as satisfying. Diane wasn’t interested so I drove solo, having told her that Lake Ingalls was my chosen destination. It’s always good to let someone know where you are going as many hikers go missing every year, and for reasons that we seldom know. I was filled with eager anticipation as I drove up through the Teanaway. The day was bright with sky and possibilities and then…as I approached the unpaved North Fork Teanaway Road I saw a sign. ‘Warning, Road Closed’. There had been a road washout and the route to the trailhead was not to be. Damn it! I turned around, dispirited, and wondered, what now.

As I drove back towards Cle Elem, I thought perhaps there would be another worthy trail nearby. I felt compelled to get in one more hike but surprisingly had no firm Plan B. Why did I not? That’s one thing you should always have, after the 10 essentials anyway. In the Cascades you never know when a forest road is going to be impassible or if trailhead lot is full. As I drove west towards home, I neared the cut off for Roslyn and remembered a hike that I’d heard of, Thorp Mountain Lookout. Yes, I now had a Plan B. Suddenly re-inspired, I turned north onto Bullfrog Road. You may recall that Roslyn has a small café, with a large outside wall mural with a camel that was featured in the TV series ‘Northern Exposure’. The show chronicled the fictional adventures of a doctor who moves to the remote and eccentric town of Cicely, Alaska. After stopping at a gas station for directions, I drove into Cicely, I mean Roslyn, and past the café camel, and then up the Salmon La Sac Road that ran north along Cle Elum Lake. It was new country for me and I wondered what lay ahead.

Crossing the river that fed the lake, I headed up the rough unpaved forest road. It branched off in several directions. Where was I? A green ranger vehicle approached from a distance. Pulling over, I jumped out and waved it down. The ranger was happy to provide directions and I continued up a narrow rocky winding forest road, eyes peeled for the right turn off. Each section of road was less maintained and more remote. I kept going, past a small pullout with a yellow painted road gate. I thought I was on the right road but doubt crept in. The single lane road got even narrower and I knew I’d gone too far. After several small turns, back and forth, I got the car turned around without getting stuck and made my way to the pullout. There was room for three cars. I parked, shouldered my pack and headed past the gate and crossed a rocky stream. A decrepit abandoned road headed left and I hiked on, thinking that I could always turn back if things didn’t work out. Some distance up the road there was a small sign post and a scant trail that headed into the brush along Thorp Creek. I took it.

I was filled with both an exuberant sense of adventure and the dull apprehension that precedes an event when everything somehow goes horribly wrong. Nevertheless, it was too soon to tell and I kept hiking up the sketchy little trail. It felt like a trail to nowhere and to probably getting lost. I was relieved when it finally joined a better trail, a steeper trail that switchbacked up the mountain. The ascent was fatiguing work but accompanied with an increasing sense of purpose and ever-expanding views. It was a hot and thirsty effort and I was overjoyed when the lookout came into sight and I quickened my pace. It was a well-maintained structure, festooned with antennas and solar panels, but shuttered for the season. No one home. Only wispy clouds drifted through the sky and the colors of the quiet scene were richly saturated. I saw one other hiker, another soloist, a fireman from Cle Elum. We talked and admired the panorama of peaks before us, the magnificent Mt. Stuart clearly visible on the eastern horizon. This was a marvelous plan B!

There was only one problem. No one knew where I was. I thought more of that as I descended and finally made my way back into the brushy trail. It seemed even more endless on the way out and at times I wondered if I’d passed a turn off and had become completely lost, destined to wander for countless hours before finding my way out, if at all. Yes, if I got lost, no one would know where to look. Not a smart plan. Luckily the trail made a little dog leg back up to the abandoned road and my worries fell away. Later, when driving down the circuitous rutted forest road I thought Diane would love the hike but hate the road, as it was marginal and carried the potential for real damage to a regular car. The hike had been very satisfying but my efforts in the Plan B department had been totally slipshod and needed work.

Curious, I soon called the Ranger Station to inquire about the status of the washed-out forest road that led to the Lake Ingalls trailhead. When I told them about the warning sign the ranger replied, “Oh, that road was repaired. Someone must have forgotten to take the sign down.”

I did carry my tripod and camera gear to capture some spherical panoramas at Thorp Mountain. They well convey the sense of place. The 360s are hosted at 360cities.net For best viewing click on the ‘Toggle Fullscreen’ icon in the panel in the upper right of the onscreen image. Then scroll to experience the immersive image.

Thorp Mountain Fire Lookout, Final Approach: https://www.360cities.net/image/thorp-mountain-fire-lookout-final-approach-wenatchee-national-forest-washington-state

Thorp Mountain Fire Lookout, The Summit: https://www.360cities.net/image/thorp-mountain-fire-lookout-the-summit-wenatchee-national-forest-washington-state-usa