Colchuck Lake Backpack

A coveted permit, a terrible weather forecast, and an amazing plan B.

In early June this year I scored one of the most coveted permits in the Northwest- the Core Enchantments zone of the Alpine Lakes Wilderness. Each year, more than 30,000 people apply in the annual lottery for a limited number of spots to camp and explore a stunning high basin and path that passes crystalline lakes tucked in groves of larch trees and granite cirques. It is undeniably one of the most beautiful areas in the state, but it is also incredibly popular.

I last hiked here in 2016, and my Dad last camped in this zone 40+ years ago. We were both so incredibly excited to see it again on the permit I snagged in April when the unclaimed lottery permits were released to the general public. Within seconds of these permits going live most were gone, but when I looked early in the season, June 3, I saw two spots available and snagged them. Normally this would be way too early, with snow covered most everything up high. But, with the exceptionally warm spring so far, I was optimistic.

In the short months leading up to the trip we both did our best to train, and I got out on some easy early season trips to the coast and lowland lakes. I had a nagging mild hamstring issue that acted up every once and a while (lesson learned, go see the PT early, it was a relatively easy fix of strengthening parts of my leg and I wish I’d gone to see my new PT a month earlier). We went into the trip feeling strong, but not in top form.

Views of peaks looking up the valley from the Colchuck Lake trail. Lots of lingering snow!

In the weeks before we left, I prepared our food and obsessed about the forecast, looking at long range models daily on Windy. I watched as the warm weather we had in May shifted into a new pattern for June – cool and cloudy with mountain snow showers mixed with warm days, but far from the accelerated melt we’d seen earlier. While I was super happy to see the snow sticking around, I knew it meant we would have to be extra flexible. With each day we saw the forecast get more and more uncertain, sun shifting to partly sunny, and then the latter half of our planned six days starting to look full on cloudy with a chance of rain.  

On the morning of our trip we set out with anticipation and a plan, but told my mom we may be back early. We both knew this trip would require a lot of flexibility, and carefully watching the forecast to see what was coming (my Mom is awesome and sends me daily forecasts based on the links I send her in my trip plan).

Our adventure began with the drive to Leavenworth and then the dirt road up to Colchuck Lake trailhead. It wasn’t a great road - the first 2/3 had the worst areas with steep sections, more rocks, and drop-offs on the side of the road. But, any car can make it with a wee bit of care, as our Subaru Legacy wagon (less clearance than an outback by a significant margin) had no problem. The trailhead now has a LOT of spots reserved for permitted overnight hikers, so coming in on a Wednesday we had no problems at all getting a spot.

intricate bug trails in a log by the trail, when it was still nice and mellowly graded and smooth

The hike in was only 4.5 miles, but if I’m honest it felt harder than that with our packs loaded down with 6 days of food, ice axes and microspikes, and cold weather clothing. The first half of the trail is a nice walk following Mountaineer Creek, and the valley has a pleasant grade that gains a comfortable thousand vertical feet-ish before the turn off to Colchuck. At this point, the trail goes to complete sh*t and becomes a rocky, rooty, and steep mess of big steps and uneven terrain. My Dad dubbed the trail “rotty” -conflating other adjectives, and it perfectly described this miserable half of the trail. It is so much more eroded than it was a decade ago – looking back at my trip notes, I don’t mention the trail being bad, but this must be the result of the many many thousands of people who hike it every year.

 Views of the trail. Left is one part of the nasty section -this lasted for miles. Middle and right show the nice trail in the first half of the hike in!

Along this section of trail, you slowly start getting views down and up the valley, and we were treated to snow lingering on the peaks and stunning bands of misty rain that created a soft hazy filter of subdued light across the landscape. We were so glad for the clouds that kept this hot trail cooler, and even didn’t mind the occasional sprinkle.

Topping out at the lake was a relief, and we were amazed at how beautiful the view is. The teal color paired with the huge craggy faces of Dragontail and Colchuck Peak make for a very impressive vista. After briefly taking in the panorama, we felt re-energized and headed around the lake looking for a campsite. With the wind picking up, our priority was a site with trees or other features to keep us sheltered, and we eventually found what I think is the best site on the lake by following a way trail next to a tree partway around the lake.

First view of Colchuck lake! Dragontail is the massive peak in the middle, with Colchuck peak on the right

Settling into camp took a little bit of fussing about, as the tent spots were all quite small (a nearby site had much bigger areas), but we eventually made it work and tetris-ed our new Durston x-dome two tent into a wonderfully sheltered site behind rocks and trees. The best part of camp, however, was the view- 20 feet from our tent you walk out on a rounded slab of granite that cascaded about 60 feet down to the aquarmarine water. We had a perfect view looking at the surrounding peaks, and spent most of the evening out here. The bugs were really not a problem at any point thanks to the persistent wind that kept the little black gnats away, and we saw no mosquitos.

After dinner we watched unusual evening alpenglow dart onto the peaks for brief moments between clouds. It was one of the most dynamic evening light transitions I've ever seen. Every few minutes the golden swaths of light would appear, shift, or abruptly vanish as the clouds to the west raced across the sky.

Images of the changing light. Top- panorama view, with closer in views below.

We also looked at the weather for the rest of the week. The following day looked good, partly sunny and no rain. And then things completely deteriorated on the forecast for the upper lakes basin. In the Enchantments the area everyone wants to get to is that upper zone, which from our camp required a tricky hour+ of hiking across a boulder field, and then ascending very, very steeply up the aptly named Aasgard pass, that gains over 2300 feet in less than a mile. Steep. Over the pass in that higher elevation zone the new forecast called for a high of 30F, winds of 30+mph, and snow. And the weather really wouldn’t warm up for the rest of our planned trip, which made us worried about ice forming on the steep 40 degree slopes below the pass.

It was an easy decision, despite how much we were both looking forward to seeing the upper basin again. A forecast like that would have kept us tent bound, working to stay warm, and limited the opportunities for exploration and hiking up there. We both looked from the message on my phone to the pass and said there’s no way we’re going up there.

Craggy and serrated rock on the shoulders of Dragontail (left) and Colchuck Peak (right).

One of the biggest lessons backpacking and wilderness travel in general instilled in me over the years is to keep a flexible mindset and plan. If I’m lucky, a planned trip goes from start to finish with no pivots or adaptations needed. And other times, I have to make a quick call to change the vision for the trip. I believe this flexibility of mindset is key not only for having a good time, but also to stay safe and avoid committing to a route, ascent, or trail when environmental or personal conditions don’t line up for that original goal.

I think we were both a bit relieved to skip Aasgard pass and the punishing hike out originally planned for six days later. The goal of our trips is to have fun, enjoy a beautiful place, spend time together, and for me to be able to paint or film a class. Up higher, we’d be in survival mode. Staying at Colchuck lake, we could spend time at one of the most beautiful lakes in the state and meet every one of these goals.

And the next day ended up being one of the most magical and pleasant days we’ve ever spent in the backcountry! We slept in until 7am, and enjoyed breakfast in our puffy jackets eagerly awaiting the sun as it crept down the ridge above camp. The light was ever changing on the lake, from shadows cast by trees that made cerulean bands of color across the bright teal to the way the pine trees at our lookout spot just glowed bright green throughout the day, or how the lake sparkled when the wind shifted and how we watched the shadows stretch across the peaks, each spire a sundial across the snowfields.

Morning light in the Colchuck lake basin was incredible!

Some of the lovely morning light! It was quite chilly, and we were glad when the sun came up! And Dad sitting on the camp's promontory enjoying morning tea and hot oatmeal. We spent just about the entire day hanging out in this area.

During our entire day of lakeside lounging (we did go for a short walk, but nowhere else was a pretty, so we quickly came back), we saw almost no one. A few thru hikers wandered by, and a group set up nearby in the evening, but there we not the hordes of people that you see at the lake outlet on a busy day. Perhaps we were far enough around the lake, or maybe the poor weather forecast scared people away. Whatever the cause, it was rare and cherished to have such an incredible place nearly to ourselves. As my Dad said, “this may be the single most pleasant day in the backcountry I’ve ever had.” What a gift to get to share it with him.

In the mid-morning I scrambled down to the lakeshore and discovered a wonderful tree to paint. As usual, it was a sub-optimal in terms of a place to sit but it had everything I wanted in my painting -a foreground element, the lake, and the peaks behind! So, I squashed myself next to a rock, balanced my camera in my crossed legs on it’s wee tripod, and paid careful attention to all of my belonging so I didn’t drop something into the lake via the sloped rock that I sat on like a bulky puffy-jacket wrapped limpet.

I filmed the process of creating this painting for a future Adventure Art Academy class, and I can’t wait to share it with my students. The lake and landscape felt really complex, and my goal was to simplify and distill it down into something that explored the most magical elements - colchuck peak with it's shadows and runnels of snow, the lake's color, trees on the shore, and the tiny natural bonsai a few feet above the lake. Choosing 2-4 elements to focus on helps me add just the right amount of detail into my painting so it tells the story of the place and what interested me, without sitting there for hours adding every single thing I see. I am overall really happy with the painting!

The rest of the day was shared moving in and out of the sun or shade based on the wind, eating all the tasty snacks, and just absolutely reveling in the beauty of this place. I found a perfect natural seat nestled in the granite bedrock, worked on another semi-abstracted painting exploring rocky patterns, and spent a lot of time just looking at the lake, sitting in silience with Dad, and taking it all in.

My perfect rocky perch (above) and the rocky patterns I painted and got quite lost in!

That evening, we got to enjoy a completely different light show. The clear skies to the west led to a slow and spectacular shifting of the light in the evening, from a hint of yellow to a deep gold that wandered up Dragontail peak before abruptly ending in a quick shift to pale pink and then the shadows and chill of evening arrived.

The hike out the next day was much easier than the hike in, and the crowds finally arrived once we walked back to the main trail to the lake. We passed many people, and were reminded what a gift the prior day had been.

While this wasn't our original plan, it ended up being the perfect trip. Sometimes, plan B ends up being just what we need.