Mountains are my self-love language.
On Saturday (Nov. 23rd) Jeff stayed home with the recovering cranky kids while I ventured forth to the Wenatchee National Forest just outside of Leavenworth, WA. I left home at 7:10am and drove through Sunnyside's signature freezing fog for about 20 minutes before I emerged from our fog-hugging pocket of the valley with the red rising sun against my rearview mirror. During the drive, I listened to Handel's Messiah in its entirety--all 54 tracks. From past experience, I have found that nothing gets me in the mood to "commune with nature" quite like a hearty dose of Handel's Messiah. "Arise and shine, for thy light is come" was brimming with eloquence as I drove along with the sunrise. "Get the up into the high mountain" was another very fitting line. And of course my heart sang along with all of the other beloved favorite choruses as well.
It was a 2 hour 44 minute drive from our house to the Stuart Lake Trailhead: 2 hours to Leavenworth (bathroom break), then an increasingly harrowing 44 minutes west to the trailhead. Intense mountain driving part one included driving down the curvy paved Icicle Road. Hidden black ice made my tires skid once unexpectedly, whereupon I gripped the steering wheel for dear life and slowed down to 20 miles per hour for the eight remaining miles of that aptly named road, pulling over to let impatient cars pass whenever necessary (driving nightmare: confronted and survived). I don't take chances with icy roads! Intense mountain driving part two began at the end of the pavement, on Forest Service Roads 7600 and 7601. That hard-packed dirt road was riddled with ripples that made my minivan rock side-to-side in such an alarming fashion that several times I found myself wishing for a five-point harness! I kept two hands on the wheel, steered around as many of the visible potholes and ridges as possible, and drove 10 miles per hour or slower for the entire 4 mile dirt road, rocking and bumping my two-wheel-drive minivan all over the place. On paper, the trailhead was barely 10 miles outside of Leavenworth, but it took me nearly an hour to drive that due to all of the ice and bumps and curves.
At last I arrived at the parking area, strapped on my backpack, and hit the trail. This was my first time trail running with a backpack, but it seemed foolhardy in the extreme to head into the rugged mountains on the cusp of winter without a few key supplies (snacks, water, first aid, pepper spray, extra jacket, and crampons). So I cinched the straps of my 15 year-old Camelbak daypack snugly and adapted to running with a five pound load as best I could. The Stuart Lake trail forked after a little while and I turned left towards Colchuck Lake, my destination of the day. It was only four miles from the parking lot to the first bright glimpse of lake blue through the trees, but I soon discovered that this was not a running trail, at least not for earthbound humans with a propensity for hard falls such as myself. This was a hiking trail. At the most, I ran half of the distance, hiking and scrambling over the remainder of the increasingly rocky path.
During my research for "the perfect spot," I learned that the Alpine Lakes Wilderness where I was hiking is called The Enchantments. That word kept springing into my head every time I rounded another bend to another magical vista. It felt like an enchanted forest, even without summer's warmth, and I was under its spell for my entire sojourn to Colchuck Lake. The name Colchuck reminds me of "upchuck," but I couldn't find any official lexplanation for its unique name. Is it Native American? Altitude sick backpacker? Who knows! All I know is this area has a reputation as the best of the Cascade Mountains, and I found that to be absolutely accurate.
My leisurely run-hike-admire-scenery pace took 90 minutes for me to ascend the 2800 feet/4 miles to Colchuck Lake. I stayed up top to fully absorb the majesty of the rugged mountains and vivid blue lake and explored around the edge of the lake for just under an hour. Then I headed back down reaching my car with trembling quadriceps in 3 hours and 33 minutes. Back down the rumpled road, scraping bottom (gently, at 10 mph) three times on the way. Thankfully Icicle Road was no longer icy and I made it back to the highway with relative ease, stopping at Five Guys on my way home for a much-needed calorie influx. I got home at 5:30pm, soul replete and mind refreshed.
It took faith to press through this foggy gunk but I knew it wouldn't last much past Sunnyside and I was right.
Sunrise.
Descending into the Ellensburg valley with those Stuart Mountains zigzagging across the horizon.
UP, up, up to Leavenworth.
Up some more on that terrifying bumpy forest service road. There was a steep hill going straight up on the right, and a cliff dropping off straight down on the left.
Enthusiasm at the beginning! Show me the magic!
The trail displaying a tiny taste of the rocks to come.
This boulder field was dusted in frost and looked like a heap of diamonds. Cell phone cameras can only capture so much.
Boulder-and-log bridge.
The rushing mountain stream played a duet with the wind in the pines and even George Frederic Handel himself couldn't have composed a better harmony.
The trail in all of its rocky glory. It's a miracle I didn't fall while hiking or running! I did slip on some ice while pausing to admire a view, though, and crashed to earth, landing hard on my knee and hip.
More enchanting white frosted wilderness.
The boulders kept getting bigger. I was glad that the trial mostly went around these elephants.
Fuzzy frosty boulders.
The frost was so thick and pointy! It was 30 degrees when I started my hike, and had warmed up to nearly 40 by the time I finished 3.5 hours later.
This boulder field was absolutely enchanting, with its frost-crusted white rocks. When I crossed that slick icy bridge I thought for sure I was entering Narnia.
It was rather precarious and slick.
The stream was trying to freeze over.
A heap of diamonds.
Rocky trail, part 100.
A smooth section! But I was so winded from climbing the last heap of rocks that I think I walked this part, haha.
Looking back: this is the rocky trail twisting downward. I count three switchbacks in this picture.
More curvy rocky trail behind me. Feeling it in the quads and hammies!
Dragontail Peak. Now that is an enchanting name. To the right is Colchuck Peak. Not nearly as fairytale-ish sounding, but I forgave it.
Sometimes the rocks on the trail were formed into uneven stair steps, but not often.
Altitude: I was rather out of breath.
Rocky trail, part 1,000.
Part of the trail followed this frozen stream of water through the roots. Again, it is a true modern miracle that I did not fall while hiking this trail.
View.
I can never resist taking one of these nature-hug pictures.
The rocky trail again, switchbacking to make a U in this picture.
I hiked through random short patches of snow. Carefully. Thankfully there was never enough snow for me to get out my crampons.
I only counted 3 of these understated little trail markers along the entire 4 mile trail. For some reason they made me laugh.
Hello blue!
Everything was so big I struggled to get the mountains and the lake in the same picture. My phone camera showed the blue at its bluest when I focused mostly on the water. It made the blue look darker whenever I tried getting the mountain peaks in the shot too.
The Dragontail, hovering over the enchanted lake.
Propping my phone on a rock with the ten second timer set worked relatively well several times on this journey.
The lake was mostly frozen.
This little lake-let (pond?) next door was fully frozen with snow on top.
I circled the lake partway to admire it from as many angles as possible.
Note the tiny orange jacketed hiker on that rock for scale. I believe the pass between Dragontail and Colchuck mountain peaks is called Aasgard Pass.
Soaking it all in.
These icicles tickled my artistic fancy.
They were more like icicle pillars, firmly rooted to the rock on both ends.
One last gaze upon Colchuck Lake before heading back down the trail.
Fallen trees look like toothpicks.
The sun finally won the battle against the clouds briefly near the end of my hike.
Down the rocky trail--my quads were burning! It was a hard descent over all of those rocks.
Sunlight and shadow: mesmerizing.
Back to the diamond boulder field. Lots of the frost had melted.
The sunlight illuminating that boulder on the left gives me a thrill. It looks like a portal.
The Narnia bridge wasn't quite so white on the return journey.
At the fork in the trail.
Crossing Mountaineer Creek and wrinkling my forehead to hide the deep hat-line gouged there, haha.
The sun was sinking behind the clouds and mountains fast during my descent, but it gave me one last gush of gold all of a sudden and transformed the gray scene into a sparkling wonderland.
Triumph at the trailhead! So hungry! Bring on that PBJ!
But first, that harrowing cliffside guard rail-free 4 mile bumpy road.
I paused the car and aimed my phone out the passenger window to take this picture over the edge of the cliff I was driving along. Zero anything to break my fall. Driving that road was not my favorite part of the day, even if the view was fantastic with the last sunlight catching the tips of those pines down below and creating a mountain-shaped shadow up to the left.
Wilkommen in Leavenworth: Leavenworth is a Bavarian-inspired town and super touristy, but also cute enough to star in a Hallmark Christmas movie.
Leavenworth's main drag. Those Christmas lights look amazing in the dark, but I didn't want my entire drive home to be in blackness, so I left.
There is so much MORE to say about my "vision quest" day, but the rest of my reflections are treasure-in-my-heart type of thoughts that can't be trapped into strict black and white words. Suffice it to say that my soul is refreshed and full to the brim with fresh wild mountain beauty!
2 comments:
This seriously looks like the PERFECT day! Way to exercise self love in such a magnificent way.
You are an amazing soul !!!
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