I broke camp at Mt. Baker on Friday morning. I felt that now familiar urge to move on to something new, maybe Baker Lake, but I debated with myself. Leaving a great campsite on a holiday weekend (4th of July) is not always a wise move. Would I find another? No matter, I would be near National Forests and dispersed camping opportunities outside established campgrounds. But first, I stopped at the cafe in Glacier, WA, to get coffee and to upload my final writing assignment for the week.
Rural Western Washington is full of contrasts. Although I have managed to bypass it for now, less than 20 miles from where I have been hanging out (Sumas, Mt. Baker Highway) is the vast spread of humanity that is the greater Seattle area. To the east is the unexpectedly rugged, sparsely populated, and often snow-bound spine of the Northern Cascade mountains. Between the humanity and the mountains: a narrow belt of winding, hilly agricultural land that grows more raspberries than anywhere else in the U.S. I see large, commercial operations and smaller, family farms with that back-to-the-land vibe of the 70s.
As I pulled away from the Mt. Baker foothills, I drove back into that pastoral setting on Route 9 and headed south. After 25 miles or so, I turned east and back into those mountains and Baker Lake. Near there, I stopped at a Ranger Station to get directions. I traveled towards Baker Lake, and I fell in love with the Skagit River, another glacier-fed, turquoise river. This one was swift like the Nooksack but much wider. I imagined a nice float there on a hot day. Anyway, as I daydreamed about floating these rivers and lakes, I passed the turn to Baker Lake. It didn’t take me long to realize this, but I kept going. I had also wanted to stop at the North Cascades National Park Visitor Center and to drive into the park. I would return to Bake Lake after that.
After another 15 miles, inside the park boundary, I noticed a small campground. I drove in not really expecting to find an empty site; however, half the campground was empty. Hmmmm. Maybe they are all reserved. I drove another few miles to the Visitor Center and asked. Turns out, that campground is first-come-first-served. The Rangers were surprised to hear it was so empty. I asked about easy-to-moderate hiking in the area and learned that several trails led along and around the Skagit River. Decision made – we are staying here for the night. Forget going back to Baker Lake.
When I paid the $8 fee back at the campground, I read a sign advertising a Ranger talk and night hike up to a small falls that is lit up at night with different colored lights. This valley is home to the Seattle City Light power station, and the Park Service carries on an old tradition of giving tours of the still-intact and preserved company town and taking guests up to the falls at night. Tango had to stay in the car, of course, but that was much safer than leaving him tied to a post like one guy did with his dog. I never saw that and I only know about him because, as I was walking back a ranger asked if I knew anything about a wolfhound tied up nearby. What? Huh? What a sitting duck for a large critter to attack. The ranger told me a cougar was spotted yesterday less than 100 yards from where the dog waited for his owner.
It is Saturday now and the rain has started up again. I knew rain was likely so I left the tent packed away and set up the North Cascades sleeping quarters in Alice. This morning, I had time for coffee and peanut butter, then a walk with Tango before the rain started. That rules out hiking but I can spend some time at the visitor center then start wandering towards Mt. St. Helens.
I have always wondered if the U.S. has a consistently cool summer destination. I have tried Montana and other northern destinations and am always surprised by how hot they get in August. And the western wildfires are a constant problem. Well, I finally found a cool, summer destination: the coastal Pacific Northwest. The tradeoff? Rain!
I have learned to live with rain now, after I nearly turned back in Juneau. I don’t necessarily like rain, but it is a fact of life where I have been traveling. I can anticipate rain, plan around it, and adapt. I don’t have to sleep in it if I don’t want. Alice is a comfy nest, I have endless reading material, and can keep the computer charged using the inverter/converter. I am thankful to the rain for the lessons it brings me about adaptability and staying positive. I will, however, enjoy the dry climate of the Southwest next fall and winter!
Next: I link with I-5, pass and pass through Seattle, which seems to mark the end of this life-changing, solo wandering phase that began months ago. Now, adventures with fellow wanderers, and I am ready for the company!
