One Lake to Rule Them All
July 21 - August 1, 2016
Aside from his friends and family, and tacos, the thing Kirb misses the most about the Pacific Northwest is its nature. As we've talked about before on this blog, there just isn't an equivalent in our neck of Europe for the sort of backpacking that one can do near Seattle. So when Kirb planned a trip home for the month of August he made sure that the first thing on his agenda was to get out into the gorgeous middle of nowhere with his best friends and his favorite living thing in the entire world, Edison the dog. His other favorite living thing, Mazz, had to stay in Berlin a bit longer because she is properly employed and Kirb is not.
There's no shortage of great places in Washington State to go backpacking, so choosing one can be tough. All of us had been hiking in the expansive Salmon La Sac/Snoqualmie region before, but only one of us had gone all the way up to Jade Lake. Cream insisted it was a stunningly beautiful spot, and a perfect destination for a long weekend backpacking trip, so we got the proper maps and made a plan. Kirb arrived in the US on Thursday evening, staying up 30 hours straight along the way to ensure a good night's sleep to prevent jetlag. Friday afternoon was spent getting food and gear together, and then that evening we hit the road.
Five humans and Edison the dog would all have to cram into Zwick's jeep, so he bought compression straps to cinch bags onto the roof. We loaded up the car at 6pm after everyone got off work, which is a terrible time try and get out of the city. If Friday night traffic is bad, and it usually is, it can add hours to the drive time. Unbelievably, we hit one of the rare Fridays where there was virtually no traffic for the entire drive, both leaving Seattle and through the perpetual construction on the other side of Snoqualmie Pass. We made it to the trailhead parking lot by 9pm, with just enough time to get on the trail in daylight before having to pull out the headlamps.
The first night we hiked into Hyas Lake, which is a flat and easy 2 miles or so from the trailhead. Our buddy Professor Fartpants was arriving separately from Eastern Washington, so he was hopefully already holding down a campsite for us on the lake. We luckily ran into him on the trail while he was setting up a marker for us. He'd secured the best campsite on the lake, a spot we call Beef Point, where Endless Mike had his bachelor party. We set up camp, built a fire, and broke out the bladder of wine (which was the heaviest luxury item and needed to be emptied before we climbed up a mountain). The sky was so clear you could see the Milky Way.
Though we set an alarm, we all woke up before it went off, just as the sun was rising. We broke camp and ate breakfast quickly, hoping to get up to Jade Lake as fast as possible to secure a good spot. Once you've walked past Hyas Lake there are a few miles of switchbacks that ascend steeply, and are no fun at all to walk up.
Eventually the trail plateaus, and there are sprawling fields of wildflowers, ridges that overlook endless evergreen forests, waterfalls, and just about every other kind of idyllic natural setting you can imagine. We came across a guy wearing a bug mask over his face, and he informed us that he'd been up to Jade and that the insects were atrocious, but it was hard to take his word at face value because he clearly had a bigger problem with bugs than a normal person if he was wearing that thing.
After hiking 7 miles from Hyas you reach Marmot Lake. We hadn't decided yet if we were going to spend Saturday night there or not. We were worried that since there are only a few places to camp at Jade Lake that they may already be filled by people who got up there early on Friday. As we approached Marmot, a guy having lunch with his wife yelled out to us unsolicited, "Going up to Jade? Gonna be real packed up there. Plenty of space down here though!" This got us worried, so we discussed what the best course of action was. Endless Mike had brought some high powered mountaineering walkie talkies, so Professor Fartpants decided to stay behind with one and stake out a spot at Marmot while we went ahead to Jade. If Jade was full, we'd radio him and come back down, and if it wasn't we'd tell him to head on up.
The trail had been clear and easy to follow to this point, but it got sketchy once we made our way around the lake. All of the camping spots we passed on Marmot were already taken, and we were getting nervous. Once we made it to the other side of the lake, we lost the trail, but we knew we had to go straight up a massive scree field until we made it to the top. Lugging our heavy bags straight up 2 miles of precarious rocks was exhausting, but the reward at the top was worth every second of the hard work.
The vibrant turquoise color of Jade Lake stops you dead in your tracks when you first see it. Fields of blooming wildflowers and rocky peaks surround the seemingly glowing water. You cannot ask for a more stunning alpine camping destination. We made our way deliriously down to the radiant lake and found that there was a perfect campsite waiting for us on a ledge overlooking the water, with a fresh stream flowing nearby and plenty of flat, clear land for all three of our tents. It was by far the best spot on the lake. We radioed down to the Professor and told him there was no need to stay at Marmot; we had found our perfect camp for the weekend. We dubbed it "Upper Beef Point." Not long after, the guy who offered us false information and recommended that we stay at the lower lake walked by with wife, looking for a camp for themselves. He clearly had tried to dissuade us from coming up to Jade so he could have a better chance of getting a good spot. Total dick move. He got stink-eyed by each of us as he walked by, but we refrained from chewing him out.
Not a lot of people made it up to Jade to camp that night, and we were curious if it had anything to do with a scathing trail report that had been left on the Washington Trails Association website the weekend before. Apparently, a large group of shitty dudes lugged a bunch of beer up the mountain, throwing their empty cans on the ground behind them as they went. They proceeded to party loudly throughout the night and have a raging fire, even though campfires are illegal at such high elevations. The person who wrote the trip report said these idiots made his experience the single worst backpacking trip of his life. We couldn't believe they were willing and able to lug enough beer all the way up there to actually get drunk. Very inefficient alcohol to effort ratio. There was a fire pit at our campsite, and we wondered if this had been their spot the weekend before.
Not long after we'd set up our tents, a park ranger came by and asked if the fire pit was ours. We said it wasn't, and he got to throwing the leftover wood over the ridge and scooping the coals into a bag. He was here to make sure there still wasn't a mess left over from the jerks, whom he assumed were frat boys from WSU. This sort of blatant disrespect for nature is rare in these parts, so other conscientious hikers had already picked up the empty beer cans and trash they'd left behind before the forest service could even send someone out. The ranger was bummed people acted so carelessly and rudely the weekend before, but glad it gave him an excuse to come out to Jade Lake for the weekend.
The clouds had cleared and the sun was shining, so we decided to jump in the lake. It was so cold it made your toenails hurt, and none of us could stay in for more than a few seconds. Kirb broke out his fishing pole and got to work immediately losing the trout lure he had just bought especially for that weekend.
Behind our campsite was a lush meadow perfect for throwing long bombs with the Frisbee. The ground raised as you moved away from the lake, and the wind was moving toward the water, so if you threw the disc just right you could carry the air current a hundred yards or so perfectly down to our campsite. Endless Mike missed the catch on the first try, but we connected on the second. We'd all try it again dozens of times after and never succeed again.
The temperature up that high was erratic, dropping drastically if the sun became covered with clouds. We'd be running around in t-shirts and then moments later be freezing cold and have to bundle up. A huge wave of fog began to roll in over the lake, forcing all of us to put on long pants, jackets and hats. This was for the best anyway, as the man in the bug mask was not lying – the mosquitos and flies were intense. There were bugs constantly flying in our faces at the campsite, and if you stood still for too long any bit of uncovered skin was going to get bit. Now all bundled up, we were shocked to see two girls who were also camping at the lake go down to the water with floaties and drift out into the frigid water while the fog slowly enveloped everything.
We made our way down to the waterfront and Kirb set up his fishing pole as the sun was starting to wane and ripples were starting to appear on the surface of the water. Kirb got a bite on his first cast, but didn't set the hook in time. He cast into the same spot and immediately landed one and reeled it in. After many, many unsuccessful attempts over the years, this was the first fish Kirb had caught as an adult; his first fish without the help of his dad. It would be the only fish he'd catch that weekend, but he took great pride cleaning, cooking, and eating the rainbow trout with his buddies.
The next morning we decided to climb the massive snowfield on the other side of the lake from our campsite. First we had to make our way through a rock field with rivers of water gushing down from the melting ice. We then made our way slowly up the snow field, using each others' foot holes and trying to kick in deep with each step to keep from slipping. It took about an hour to make it to the top, and once we got over the ridge we were rewarded with a breathtaking panoramic view of Pea Soup Lake surrounded by mountain peaks. The boyfriends decided to scale the rocky areas around the lake, but Kirb stayed perched at the overlook and enjoyed the view. He badly trashed his knee once while backpacking miles deep in a nature preserve in California, and would prefer to never have to relive that gruesome experience again. He plays it safe now around rocks and water.
We'd brought up several items with us to use to glissade back down the snowfield, including the Frisbee, a fold-up nylon camp chair, and a cardboard wine box. Kirb and Professor Fartpants tried to ride the camp chair two-man like a toboggan but it wasn't happening, so we decided to just sprint down the mountain instead. The snow had softened up from the afternoon sun, so you could run at full speed without worry of hurting yourself if you fell. When you eventually got going too fast, you could somersault onto your butt and start sliding. When your butt started to freeze you could pop back up to your feet and keep running until you fell again. Running recklessly down that massive snowfield with his best friends was one of the funnest things Kirb has ever done.
We spent the rest of the afternoon lounging on rocks in the sunny meadow, cracking jokes, soaking in the beautiful surroundings, and petting Edison.
When it was time to move our bodies again, we decided to make our way up to a ledge on the side of the snowfield that overlooked the lake and meadow. The sun was starting to set, and Endless Mike wanted one more dip in the lake while there was still light. Our tents were just a speck from up there, and we asked him how long he thought it would take him to sprint all the way down there, strip naked, and jump in the water. He responded, "I dunno, like 30 seconds," so we dared him to do it, and he immediately sprinted off down the hill. A few minutes later we saw him in the distance, barreling though the woods, making a full-speed 90-degree turn by wrapping his arm around a small tree and flinging himself around it, practically toppling the thing. He frantically ripped off all his clothes, let out a triumphant scream, and jumped in the freezing water. Total time: 5 minutes and 19 seconds.
As the sun set, it shone through the rocky crevasse at the base of the lake, warmly illuminating the surrounding hills while casting shadows on everything beneath. We made our way down from the ridge, and Zwick loaded up a small, insulated bag with snow. At the camp, we used it as ice for some Old Overholt Rye he had been cooling in the stream. We sipped our refreshing mountain cocktails and basked in the ridiculous beauty of the place while the light dispersed to darkness.
The hike out the following morning was a long trek. We walked the entire 11.5 miles back to the car in one fell swoop. Descending from Jade, we found the trail we had originally lost along the 2-mile scree field to Marmot Lake, but it was still slow going down the steep and rocky hillside. Kirb's body is usually done walking with a heavy pack after around 8 miles, so by the end of this hike he was very much over it. But all that hard work made the burgers and beers we got in Roslyn on the drive out taste that much better. After a long weekend of hiking and dehydrated camp food, there really is nothing better than a burger and a beer.
All other backpacking excursions Kirb takes henceforth will be judged against this one. Gleg said a week later, "Just got back from a day trip to Annette Lake which was very nice, but Jade Lake has kind of ruined other alpine lakes for me." Choosing destinations for future camping trips now is going to be like ordering something new from a menu that you know has the best thing you've ever eaten on it. Though Kirb is currently traveling the world and seeing new and amazing things on the regular, for him, it really doesn't get any better than this.