Tag Archives: solo backpacking

Oct25

Backpacking out to Spectacle Lake

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Thursday, Friday, and Saturday – 14-Sept-2023, 15-Sept-2023, and 16-Sept-2023


I absolutely adore the North Cascades and the Alpine Lakes Wilderness.

Truth be told, I’m not 100% sure what the official boundaries on either of them are… but at this point I’ve come to just assume that everything in the general “North of Mt. Rainier” region is the North Cascades, which I’m pretty sure is accurate. So I’m not going to quibble over details in this case, and simply enjoy the opportunity to explore the wilderness.


I took three days for Spectacle Lake, with Sunday left untouched to unpack and decompress – Leaving on a Thursday morning to help avoid the crowds, and giving me a chance to grab some nice breakfast sandwiches for the drive on my way out of Wilsonville.

The drive itself? Lovely – long, relaxing, and calm… an advantage of heading up toward Seattle in the morning on a Thursday. I drove, listened to music, let my mind wander, and soon enough I was parking at the trailhead and forging into the wilderness.




The first evening I set up camp near what I expected to be a small, unnamed lake on the trail up toward spectacle. I was a bit surprised, looking at the map, that it didn’t have any campsites nearby… but I figured that was because it was fairly close in to the main campsites… or, that people simply didn’t mark the sites down as such.

I arrived a bit before sundown, took the small game-trail off the main route to the lake, and started setting up camp.

Or… trying to set up camp.

I was successful, thankfully, but I did realize why it wasn’t listed as an official campsite – while there were quite a few good spots, the “lake” itself wasn’t really much of an open-water lake, as much as a large mud pit with a small puddle in the middle. And by “mud pit”, I mean “my poles sunk 3+ feet in when I was probing the ground”.

I was careful, making sure to probe and confirm that my campsite was firm and secure, and had myself a nice dinner before heading to the incoming stream to fill up on water for the day ahead.

The incoming stream was where I let my guard down. I hopped down to the stream from the embankment, and found out that the “streambed” that I was hopping to was, in fact, another mud pit. A mud pit that I sunk hip-deep into before I caught myself on the embankment.

Kind of reminds me of that time I slipped into a randkluft on the trail to Elk Meadows…

Thankfully, I did catch myself fairly quickly, and was able to haul myself out of the muck and mire without any major hassle. I was quick enough that the mud didn’t soak fully through my pants, and my boots didn’t get any grime inside them – I stripped the muddy gear off quick, changed into my spare pair of pants, and proceeded to filter my water from higher up on the embankment.



The next morning dawned to frozen mud pants.

I mean, that was the plan, so I’m not unhappy about it at all – by leaving the muddy pants out to freeze, it kinda separated most of the gross and grime off… I was able to roll them up and lash them to the outside of my pack once the morning sun thawed them out (which happened as I snacked on my breakfast and sipped coffee), with them being servicable if not actually clean.

I ascended, slowly but surely, past the lake, through a burn, and up the steep portion to Spectacle Lake itself. I took my time, enjoyed the views… and hustled a little bit, to make sure that I was able to get a good campsite!

The hustling paid off exceptionally well – when I arrived, I passed a group who was just heading out… who mentioned that they’d just left the prime spot on the lake! The campsite right at the end of the peninsula sticking out into the alpine lake, with views on basically every side.

Legitimately, I couldn’t have asked for a better campsite. I set up the tent, had a snack, read my book… and realized that it was still only 11:00 in the morning.



So… I stretched out, and headed upward into the mountain passes surrounding the lake.

Something about that phrase… “into the mountain passes”… it just sounds so excellent, doesn’t it? It sounds like something from Lord of the Rings, or one of a hundred other high fantasy books that I grew up reading. Back then, in middle school, I always wanted to be some grand explorer… maybe a mad scientist some days, maybe a space captain others, and at least once or twice I wished I was a Jedi…

But oftentimes, that explorer forging into “the mountain passes past the cities and above the clouds”.

I’m that explorer, now.

Kind of neat to think about, isn’t it?



Anyways, I forged onward through the passes above Spectacle Lake.

Tying back, I’ll just say this – if there’s a spot in Washington that Mountain Trolls would live, it was that pass. Turns out, part of the Pacific Crest Trail runs past Spectacle. And, that part of the Pacific Crest Trail had actually been blasted out of the rock with dynamite – something I became quite aware of as I noticed blast scars, drill holes, and other beautifully unnatural rocks.

It was neat – and almost tempting to move my camp into the interesting little campsites that’d been literally carved and blasted from the rockfaces surrounding me.



I pressed on – exploring, resting, reading, and noshing on snacks.

I turned around when it felt right, and made my way slowly and carefully back to camp; not wanting to overdo it on my knees by adding an extra rushed thousand feet to my elevation for the day. I got back just before sunset, with the perfect opportunity to watch the sky as the sun dipped below the horizon.

Then? More reading, a bit of a nap, and a long quiet opportunity to stargaze. There were a few teams around me, sure, but thankfully everyone seemed to be on the same page regarding noise (or more accurately the lack thereof). The stars wheeled, I pondered, and then I slept.



The next day broke beautiful, just like the previous day.

Breakfast was lovely, the sun shone perfectly, and the hike out was easy. I took my time, read a bit, and even took the opportunity to pack out some trash – a few hats that I found, some socks… even a partial swimsuit that I found in a pika (sorta like a small gopher) hole!


And, turns out, that “trash” would be pretty impactful to my hike out! As I descended from the lake, I passed a fair number of people – every so often I’d run into a group who seemed like the folks who’d want a new hat, so I’d ask them if they’d like one of the ones that I’d found.

Now, keep in mind that most of the trash I’d accumulated was pretty gross… but the hats themselves were actually quite nice. I’d asked around the lake to make sure they didn’t belong to anyone, and felt bad that they’d probably end up getting tossed when I got home… so hey, why not right? Trail magic!

One of the folks I ran into excitedly accepted the offer – then quickly made her way on up the trail. I didn’t think too much of it, until she caught back up to me a few miles from the trailhead! Turns out, her name was Carmen and she was just doing a quick “up and back” training run… which definitely puts my backpacking speed in context, if anyone was curious.

We chatted on the hike out, which made the remaining mile or three go exceptionally quick. We chatted about work, about adventures, all the fun things – definitely an excellent way to pass the time on the slow portion of the backpacking trip!





The remainder of the adventure was as lovely as the hike itself had been.

I drove out slowly, without a rush, stopping into Cle Elum for a quick dinner before hitting the main highway. I stayed in town for a bit of extra time, having heard some live music as I was eating a glorious hamburger, and was rewarded with a Pacific Northwest rendition of Sweet Caroline… an absolutely lovely callback to the East Coast.

Definitely a solid adventure.

Nov14

Backpacking to Marmot Lake and Jade Lake, Alpine Lakes wilderness

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Friday, 14-Oct-2022 through Sunday, 16-Oct-2022


Around the beginning of the year, I was chatting with a few coworkers about various hikes that we wanted to check out over the coming Summer. A few suggestions were thrown around, and I jotted down notes on most. Time went on, and conversations shifted… but the notes stayed on my phone.

September came around, and the year was coming to a close… but I still wanted to get a few good backpacking trips in. I cracked open that old list, and checked out what I hadn’t done so far. I’ve done quite a few good trips this year, was feeling strong, and Jade Lake out in the Alpine Lakes Wilderness stood out. Long, fairly significant elevation gain, gorgeous views, far away from home…

Yeah, Jade Lake was a perfect “big backpacking trip to end the season with”



I drove up on a Friday morning.

Realistically, I probably didn’t get on the road as early as I should have… all times considered, we were looking at nearly five and a half hours of driving to get to the trailhead. Then 8 miles or so in to my campsite… with the days getting shorter, and the evenings colder, an early start would have been well advised. That being said I do appreciate the quiet mornings, and I don’t appreciate rushing, so I still stand by my process of getting on the road right around 8:00am.

That timing found me starting into the trail by 2:30pm, and I made excellent time on the approach. I mentioned the full summer of backpacking and hiking; combined with the physical therapy for my knee and a renewed joy in both climbing and lifting, and I’m in quite good shape. I held a solid 2mph on the entire approach, even with the full three days worth of gear in the pack.

The miles vanished under my boots, and I gained elevation surprisingly quickly. I’d hoped to find camp somewhere between Marmot Lake and the PCT junction, but I was feeling strong when I passed the Pacific Crest Trail – There was some light left, it was early-ish in the evening, and I was strong. I didn’t want to stop, so I didn’t stop. I forged onward and upward toward Marmot Lake.



Night fell, and I hiked through the dark. With my headlamp illuminating a circle of visibility in an otherwise darkened world, I remembered just how long it’s been since I’ve hiked in the dark. I used to backpack past dark all the time, when I was younger, but now… I don’t think I’ve hiked purely by headlamp in years.

It’s a special kind of purgatory, backpacking in the dark. I truly believe that, if purgatory does exist, this is a close approximation to it. The world is constricted down to a single small pool of light in front of my eyes. It’s quiet, with sounds and shapes sometimes creeping in from my side vision… only to vanish when the spotlight is turned on them.

Everything looks the same – the trail goes onward and upward, switch backing into the dark, and my mile counter has long-since his the distance that I should have found Marmot Lake. I’ve learned not to trust pedometers though – official distances are always shorter than what my tracker finds, so best to put it out of mine. Onward and upward, one foot in front of the other.



When I finally made it to the shores of Marmot Lake… all I saw were sheer cliffs. My headlamp shone down from the trail into infinite darkness – the lake must have been at least 50ft below me, if not further. Disappointing, since I’d been hoping to camp on the shores of the lake… but we persevere, and I kept walking onward looking for a good campsite.

After a few hundred yards the trail had turned inland, and I came across a small trail heading back toward what must have been the cliff above the lake. I took it, hoping to find a nice cliffside camp site, but instead found the lake itself! It was close by and crystal clear – so perfectly clear that it completely absorbed every photon of light from my headlamp. I had been walking along the edge of the lake the whole time, but the perfectly still evening had kept the noise at bay, and the infinitely clear water had just eaten the light!

I made camp.

I relaxed, I ate dinner, I sipped cocoa with gin, and I enjoyed an intensely quiet and cold evening.



The next morning I woke up, and went to check the time… only to find that my phone hadn’t charged overnight. The tiny little portable charger that I’ve used over so many trips seemed to have finally died… or maybe hadn’t been as fully charged as I’d thought. Either way, the distance tracking from the day before had used up enough juice that we were living in bricksville, population “my phone”.

Cest la vie, though. I made breakfast, coffee, and enjoyed a calm and quiet morning. I kept reaching to take photos, only to remember that wasn’t quite going to happen.

Fear not, dear reader, for photos would still be taken this day!


I broke my fast, packed a light pack, and headed up to Jade Lake. I got moving in the late morning, so there were quite a few other teams around as I made my way up toward the main goal of the day. I mean… not “quite a few”, like three other teams total, I think. Two of them gave me weird looks when I asked for a spare battery box / charger, but… one college group grinned and handed me a simply massive battery box they were carrying! The day was saved, and photos could be taken!

As the phone charged up, I wandered the shores of Jade Lake.

Words can’t quite describe how beautiful it was – the photos below will have to suffice. I took the time to scout various photo viewpoints, enjoy the calm air, and just… just be. I’ve been trying to “just be” more often these days. It’s not always successful, and it’s not usually easy, but… I like to think that I’m getting a little bit better, day by day and week by week. Just appreciating and enjoying, slowly moving through the world and appreciating the little things like the sun, wind in the trees, and a gloriously deep turquoise lake in front of me.

*Note: Turquoise. Not jade. Not sure who named this lake, but… they clearly didn’t know the difference*




I explored, photographed, and snacked. I walked, I climbed, and I watched the sun start heading toward the horizon.

I headed back.

The sun dipped. Dinner heated up. More cocoa, some apple cider, and stargazing. So much stargazing… I watched the milky way come out, and then burn away like fog as the moon rose. I slept peacefully, fully cocooned in a small little island of warmth in the vast mountains surrounding me.




Sunday dawned bright and beautiful – not warm, by any stretch of the imagination, but it was still bright. The sun was intense enough to almost warm me up enough to take off my jacket… but not quite, at least not until I started on my way back to the trailhead.

I met a few of the teams that I’d seen the day before on the trail down, again, even leapfrogging one of them a few times as we descended. I gave away one of my backup pack-straps to someone who’s waist belt had broken, and felt good for repaying the karma I’d been given with the phone charge the day before.

The trail out went more quickly than the trail in, it seemed… though I expect a lot of that was from not hiking in the dark this time. And I’d been reading “Stardust” on the trip, since I’d felt a bit lonely and needed a good fantasy love story, so the whole idea of being deep in the woods just felt a little more… magical… than it had on the hike in.

I was reminded of when I’d hiked the Abel Tasman trail in New Zealand while reading The Hobbit: I love reading, and it always shapes my perceptions… reading The Hobbit while doing a 5-day hike in New Zealand just felt right. So too did hiking in the Washington wilderness while reading about a couple exploring a new and magical world together.



I got back to the car. I packed up, changed into clean clothes, and made my way to the small town of Roslyn.

I ate a gloriously good burger (though, frankly, not quite as good as the last time I was in town), and got on the road just before sundown.

I drove.

I gawked at Snoqualmie Pass in the sunset.

I enjoyed the cold air as the Mustang thundered its way down I5, with the top down, back toward Wilsonville.

I felt accomplished and free. I enjoyed a comfortable and warm bed.


It was a good trip.





Nov18

Backpacking to Green Lakes – Visiting the Sisters!

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Friday and Saturday, 22-Oct-2021 and 23-Oct-2021



Friday, 22-Oct-2021


It all started with an epic odyssey in search of coffee and breakfast.

I swear, that wasn’t the plan.


The plan was simple – get going early, pick up coffee and a breakfast sandwich, and stuff some coffee packets into my backpack before getting to the trailhead before 11.

But as we all know, simple isn’t always viable, and sometimes the world wants me to take an epic odyssey all over Bend, searching for a Starbucks that’s actually freaking open.



Yeah, so everyone’s heard of the whole “labor shortage” thing, right? And, I hope, the counter stories about workers applying to dozens of “desperately needed” jobs, only to get a single half-hearted interview?

Well, without passing judgement on which new story is lying, I can say that the Starbucks in Bend are annoying me, and that they’re understaffed… to say the least.

I stopped at four Starbucks before I finally found on that was open… and even then, they didn’t have what I was looking for “due to supply shortages”

Seriously. I didn’t make it to the trailhead ’till almost 1:00!



But you know what?

That’s fine. It’s all fine – I’m not in a rush; the trail to Green Lakes is only 5 or 7 miles each way (I think it’s officially 4.55miles to the lakes area, with a few more spent trying to find a campsite), and I still had quite a bit of daylight left. My bag was packed, I was ready to go, and the trail was waiting for me.



Adequately caffeinated, I started into the woods.

It’s… interesting. Green Lakes was one of those hikes that Sarah and I did regularly when we were still a semi-happy young couple. But I couldn’t tell you the last time I’d been out there… and frankly, I don’t know why we stopped going. It had been a tradition, for a little while, but… as with everything it seemed to have withered and died on the vine.

Going in by myself was interesting, with that context in mind. I enjoyed the familiar views, and appreciated seeing them with new eyes. I took photos, I reflected, and I continued walking until it was time to stop.


In the evening, I set up camp before heading out to explore the large Moraine flowing to the South of South Sister – It’s a very interesting geological feature, full of neat pumice stones and obsidian chunks. I watched the sunset, and appreciated the quiet and solitude of the wilderness.

Dinner was had, my book was read, and sleep came easily.





Saturday, 23-Oct-2021


Saturday dawned bright and cold – my absolute favorite was for a dawn to break.

Instead of cooking breakfast at camp, I was feeling exploratory… so I bundled up the breakfast bits and headed out toward Green Lake itself, aiming to cook up some oatmeal and jerky. With, of course, my hard-earned coffee!

Of interesting note – I got to watch various Instagrammers doing their product-placement photoshoots while I cooked and ate… One lady and her dog posed with beef jerky sticks, while another did handstands in exceptionally well-fitted yoga pants, while her fried photographed the hand lotion balanced on her feet… before saying that they should have brought their sponsored trash bags too.

It was interesting. I’m not hugely against it, mind you, but it’s definitely interesting.



After enjoying a lovely slow breakfast, I re-packed the gear, and took a walk. I’d been to Green Lakes, as I mentioned, but I hadn’t even gone past the Northern border of the camping area… There was no rush to the day, and my legs were feeling good, so I set my sights on a far-off ridgeline, and started walking.

The trail was beautiful, and I’m absolutely thankful that I took the time to explore – Green Lakes has excellent views, but the views of Broken Top from the ridgeline were unique, and the light was just,.. *muah*





After returning to camp, I could have packed up… but again, I wasn’t really in any rush for the day. I wanted to get back to the car before sunset, but… it’s all downhill, man. And I don’t walk too slowly anymore, so I felt confident enough tat I took it easy.

I stretched out in the sun, opened my book, and spent some time trying to understand the book that I’d brought with me… no easy task, since it’s a full-on psychotherapy dialogue, rooted in lessons earned during the authors time in concentration camps during the Holocaust. But worthwhile things take effort, and I feel positive about what I learned in that sun-dappled spot, in the middle of Oregon, surrounded by the peace and quiet of the mountains.




The hike out went even better than I could have hoped. I arrived back at the car with nearly an hour of sunlight left… which gave me easily enough time to quietly pack the car, take a few extra photos… and more importantly, even granted me the chance to revisit a favorite Tex-Mex restaurant in Bend (El Rodeo) that I hadn’t been to since the last time I’d hiked in the area.

A great trip, and a much appreciated chance to overwrite some negative memories with more positive ones… while also doing some significant introspection on that exact subject.