Ok, so I’m not exactly a city-slicker. I grew up on a farm, spent lots of time outside doing farm stuff. Our family took the compulsory annual camping trip until I was about 13, when mom and dad decided that it was just way too much work to pack-up all that gear to go places that were crowded with trailers and RVs, and then have to sleep on the ground.
I’m not exactly an avid outdoors-woman either. In fact, the last time I slept on the ground was that last family trip at age 13. I do not actually have the desire to camp or go anywhere that might require forgoing a shower for more than 24 hours.
Though we did not take a video-camera (that and most other luxuries were jettisoned long before we left the parking lot) we did take about 50 digital photos and I have recorded our adventure in an entertaining narrative. (Well, Michele and I thought it was entertaining….you may decide after reading that it is one of those “you had to be there” kind of stories).
The purpose of the backpacking trip is to journey to North Lake AKA “Too Far Lake” to disburse the ashes of a dear friend of Michele’s who passed away a few years ago. This friend had enjoyed backpacking over 20 years ago to a location she called “Too Far Lake”. It took several years for Michele to determine that “Too Far Lake” was actually named “North Lake” and located near Twisp, WA about 10 miles from the closest road.
We leave at the ungodly hour of 5:00 a.m. when even in summer it’s hardly light outside, and after a very necessary coffee stop in Wenatchee, we arrive at the metropolis of Twisp, WA around 9:00 a.m. We decide to stop for breakfast so that we will have the energy to climb the mountain (and I want to make sure that what could potentially be my last meal is a damn good one) so we mosey into Antlers Saloon and order up a hearty breakfast. As you may imagine, the saloon was complete with many many sets of antlers (heads too) on the wall. I believe that there was even a spittoon by the bar, possibly left over from earlier times.
From Twisp we drive west along the Twisp River Road. After encounters with several deer, we came upon a bear in the road… just a few miles from where we are going to get out of our safe car and strap 40 pounds of dead weight on our backs, making it impossible to move faster than a crawl…. what have I gotten myself into?
At the trailhead, we park our car in the completely empty parking lot and begin packing our backpacks. Having never backpacked before and with my last camping experience over 10 years ago, I rely (perhaps foolishly) on Michele to guide me in determining which gear to bring and what not. Since it is already 80 degrees and the sky is clear blue, I decide the first thing to go is the raincoat. As Michele loads my pack with the essentials– fuel, cooking pots and pans, food and a bottle of wine, she fills her backpack with other miscellaneous items including a very compact tent, stove and lantern, and, most importantly, the gun. Now we are ready to go!
As I bend over to tighten the laces on my hiking books, I watch as the vertically challenged Michele, (think less than 5 feet tall) easily hoists her pack onto her back. Following her lead, I squat down, bend backward toward the shoulder straps, throw my arms through, hastily lunge forward, and…. go no where. I think to myself “this pack must be full of bricks.” Michele sees me and decides it would be helpful to grab the pack from the top and meet me half way, which helps, only now the ton of bricks is on my back practically pulling me over backwards- how the will I make it 10 miles uphill?
It turns out that going uphill with the pack is much easier than standing still, so we set off on the trail. We sign our names on a page at the trailhead; this will ensure that if we don’t return the next day, the forest ranger will know where to send the search party. I can already see the headlines “Female Hikers Missing in North Cascades” “Search Party Dwindles- No Sign of Missing Hikers”, and “Hikers Presumed Dead.”
About 1/4 of a mile in, I start thinking about the bear we saw on our way up to the trailhead. A song that I sang many years ago at summer camp pops into my head “The other day, I met a bear…..” Then I started thinking about what would happen if we actually did meet a bear and I yell forward to Michele, “Why is it that you are carrying the gun and I am carrying the rib-eye steaks and bacon?” Michele assures me that she will not leave me and my pack for the bear to snack on, so we continue up the mountain.
About 1/2 mile up, Michele asks “Jen, do you think we’ve gone a mile yet?” It has been about 25 minutes, plenty of time to go a mile under normal conditions, but remember, Michele is a smoker and my idea of exercise is to walk 2 miles on my treadmill in the air-conditioned comfort of my home. I tell Michele that we can still see the parking lot and she better not even utter the words “Are we there yet?” until we’ve hit the 5 mile mark.
Highlights of the uphill journey: beautiful scenery. More beautiful scenery: Wildflowers, mountain meadows, mountain peaks all around us, the sound of streams, waterfalls, and, whitewater, patches of snow.
Lowlights of the uphill journey: The beautiful scenery included rocks, which, due to the fact that it was uphill made walking a challenge. Wildflowers and mountain meadows seem to attract copious amounts of flesh-eating mosquitoes. Streams, waterfalls and whitewater sound pretty until you have to cross them and the water reaches over your boot tops soaking your socks. Patches of snow mean melting snow, which means thick, dark mud you have to walk through.
Oh, and did I mention the fact that it was uphill?
I should also note that we were a little uncertain about the length of the journey. The 25+ year-old map Michele had showed the trail as being 5.5 miles (one way). The 2-year-old hiking book I had stated the length as 7+ miles. After approximately 4 hours of hiking and no sign of a lake, we enter an open meadow with lots of standing water and lots of bugs. We cross through the muddy meadow and on the other side is a tiny little muddy pond. At this point, I am sure that this is probably North Lake and we are doomed to spend the night among millions of bugs and instead of being eaten by a bear, we’ll be eaten alive by mosquitoes. But, thankfully, the trail continues…
About a mile and a heck of a climb later, we enter into a clearing. I see a beautiful blue lake and realize, this must be it, and it is.
We find a campsite already set-up, presumably by other hikers, and it is complete with a rock-ringed fire pit and some large logs perfect for storing gear. I lean backwards and my pack slides down my back to the ground. With the weight lifted I feel like I am floating. Michele and I float around to explore the area free from the deadweight we had hauled nearly 10 miles.
And I have to admit, the lake is well worth the climb. Crystal clear water- clearer blue than any water I’ve ever seen, snow melting into it. A grassy green hillside with a bubbling stream—this could be straight out of an Irish Spring commercial. And the air- so fresh that…oh no, stop me before I turn into a nature-loving tree hugging eco freak!
After putting up our tent and by tent, I mean a 5 foot long by two foot wide structure that resembled a large kite, we decided to make dinner.
Dinner is a bit of a chore- now I know how rough the pioneers had it, wait, I think they actually had to kill their own food and we just stopped at Safeway, but you try to cook a one-inch thick steak on a campfire you built out of small twigs (didn’t have room in the backpack for a chainsaw!). That bottle of wine that I had many many thoughts of tossing on the way up the mountain tasted awfully good with the undercooked steak and overcooked macaroni. Thank you Hogue for the twist top wine bottle which meant one less thing to carry up the mountain!
Bedtime comes and the two of us cram ourselves into a tent that I am pretty sure was made for a dog. Since I had decided the sleeping pad was something I could do without when we left from the car many hours before, I now had to feel the bumps of every twig, pinecone and rock underneath me. How come in those cowboy movies when everyone is sleeping on their pack by the fire they never seem to have trouble with foreign objects under their buts, thighs and hips???
I think that with all my tossing and turning I may have actually slept a total of two hours. Thankfully with the stocking cap on my head, I didn’t hear the sound of an animal visiting our camp.
But Michele did. The next morning she explains to me that a friendly bear had paid us a visit. Since we didn’t appear in eminent danger, and since I am so sleep-deprived, the only thing I can think to say is “Did he eat our bacon?”
Thankfully, the bacon was buried deep in a snow bank under three levels of plastic wrap so the bear had not devoured our breakfast.
After a breakfast of almost an entire package of bacon (I wrap up the extra for a snack later), we reload our backpacks and get ready to descend down the mountain.
I lean balance my pack on a log, knowing that it will feel significantly lighter, since we ate the steaks and bacon, drank the wine, and used a bit of the fuel for the camp burner. I reach back and put my arms through the straps and ease myself up off the log. “Holy *@#^$@”. The pack is not only heavier than it was yesterday, now it is violently pulling a muscle in my upper back. Ok, maybe nature isn’t so bad. I think I have enough granola bars to live up here for a few days. Michele convinces me that I will make it down the mountain by telling me that if I don’t start walking she will leave me.
So we stumble down the mountain, and I do mean stumble, because you think that going uphill is hard until you go downhill. The one good thing about downhill is that it goes faster. The one bad thing, it is more painful, especially for someone who hadn’t walked 10 miles uphill and is now suffering from spasms and soreness in every imaginable muscle in the body.
The good news is- we make it down. By the time we are in sight of the parking lot I am so happy I try to run- you’ve seen a marathon- they always give it one last big push at the end. Unfortunately for me running with 50 pounds on my back is a recipe for disaster. I stumble into a forward tumble/dive for the dirt managing to catch myself with one arm. Of course I landed in a muddy puddle. Now I look like a mountain woman. Like I’ve been out in the wilderness for days, living on nuts and berries, navigating by the stars….
I am quickly grounded as I see that coming at me on the trail are two backpackers, staring at me strangely. I quickly get up, (well as quickly as I can) give them a nonchalant “hello” and proceed to walk as if nothing had happened. As they continue on the trail I think I can hear sounds of stifling laughter “first timer”.
A few minutes later I see it. About ½ mile through the trees. Right where we left it. It’s…our car! I have never been so happy to see a vehicle in my life. Car means transport back to civilization, to Starbucks, microwaves and showers!
We leave the mountains, driving past the clearing where we first saw the bear, back through the town of Twisp, and back home to the Tri-Cities, where the tallest hill can be climbed in a matter of minutes.
I have never enjoyed a shower more in my life, but that night, as I lay in bed listening to cars drive by as I try to sleep, I think of that peaceful calm I felt sitting by the campfire with a sky full of stars, and I kind of understand why people enjoy camping.
iliar, the Tube is London’s underground train which dates back to 1863, and is the longest underground train system in the world. You can get anywhere in London using the Tube, and during the cold rainy month in December, it is the best way to travel.
