Baseline

August 20, 2019

When I look back on where the last few years have taken me I generally find that it all started here. Alone on the notoriously popular trail up to Snow Lake I received a text just before the first switchback.

I was visiting home to take a break from the hellish summer heat that had consumed Florida and see family. The flat, sandy terrain of Florida had me missing home and alpine mountains immensely. To make the most of my time at home I knew I needed some mountain time.

I used the advantage of my body being on Central Time to get up early and make my way up to Snoqualmie Pass. I joined a few other cars in the parking lot and got ready for the familiar hike. My hope was to make it up to Gem Lake and maybe even summit Wright Mountain. My first experience here was almost six years prior when Michael took me on a backpacking trip to Gem Lake. A year after that I took my dad to Snow Lake. The stunning beauty of the Alpine Lakes Wilderness was stuck in my head and I needed a dose. This place is special for its beauty, but also in memories. I knew I had to make it back.

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The sun was steadily rising, making its way into the valleys between the mountains as I walked up the valley on the trail. It was going to be an incredible day.

A familiar ding from my phone went off and I stopped before the climb up to the ridge to make sure it was not something important. It wasn’t urgent, but it was a surprise. A message from my cousin asking if two of my other cousins and I would be interested in doing the Los Angeles Marathon in March 2020.

I had not thought much about running marathons, or running at all lately. I had been doing the occasional run here and there to stay in shape and had been frequenting the gym to build strength. The heat and humidity of Florida had left me uninspired and searching for air conditioning. I stopped to consider the proposal. I would need to think about it, but I did decide something. It was clear to me that if I wanted to do more hikes like this safely I would need to be in better shape. I felt good out here this morning, but knew I could feel better.

The future was unclear at that point, we would be leaving Florida soon but were not sure where to. I was unsure if I would be able to make it to the marathon. Standing in the beautiful valley I decided I would train for the marathon regardless. I needed some motivation and this was a good starting point. It would increase my endurance for hikes like this. Either way, it seemed like a win-win scenario. I put my phone back away into my backpack and carried on. I would think more about this later, now I need to be present.

Switching back the trail begin to climb up toward the ridgeline above Snow Lake. My breathing began to get heavy and I was sweating more now, but feeling glad for the shade of the morning. I saw a few people here and made sure to say hello as a trudged on. I felt surprisingly good for a flatlander and was impressed my body remembered how to do this.

As I crested the hill, I went off to a large boulder that overlooked Snow Lake to get a few pictures as the sun came into the bowl the lake sat in. An overview of the trail I would follow was apparent from here and wave of excitement washed over me for the adventure that lay ahead. I returned to the trail to head down toward Snow Lake, still so many miles to go.

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Trying to keep my pace up, I descended to the lake. The trail followed the north side of the lake in wet areas trail crews have built up with boardwalks and turnpikes to try and curb the erosion from the thousands of people that make their way up here every year. At about the halfway point along the lake a large rocky area forms a small peninsula out onto the lake. When I came with my dad last time we had stopped here for lunch before turning around (see picture above).

I took a few pictures here. The lake was still mostly in shadow, but the sun was coming. Continuing on the trail becomes rockier, crossing talus slopes. Meep, a pika called. I stopped, giddy with excitement to try and see if I could get eyes on the small alpine mammal. I have always admired the adorable creature for being so tiny, but being incredibly tough. These little guys endure some incredibly harsh weather. My eyes scanned for movement, but I saw none so I continued on.

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The Saturday before, my dad had taken me up to Artist’s Point. It was my first time to that unbelievably gorgeous place that sat between Mount Baker (Kulshan) and Mount Shuksan. 360 degree views took my breath away as we hiked up Ptarmigan Ridge. That day we heard and saw quite a few pikas. I hoped to see another on this hike to Gem Lake, but was acceptant that I might not see any. I loved hearing them though.

I walked along the talus approaching some dirt when I was surprised by some movement on the trail. Stopping to make sure my life wasn’t being threatened, I watched as a pika scurried away from me up the trail in the direction I was going. “Hello cutie!” I said softly. Walking forward lightly trying not to scare the creature more than I had already had. As I was no Cinderella, the small pika continued to run until it could jump to the side into some tunnels in the rocks. “Have a great day,” I said to the pika looking up to make sure nobody else knew I tried to talk to wild animals like they are people.

The trail veered and climbed to the right away from the lake. My eyes were focused on the trail ahead, scanning for any roots, rocks, and hazards that would test my footing. Out of my periphery I started to see blue dots along the trail. I must have died and gone to heaven. First, I got to see pikas. Now I get to eat ALPINE HUCKLEBERRIES! A dream come true.

I fought the nagging sense in my head that I needed to hurry and started picking and shoveling the plump, blue huckleberries into my salivating mouth. The timing could not be any better. The perfectly ripe, sweet, and tart perfection bursting in my mouth brought me so much joy. The surge of happiness made my tired and heavy body feel light again. Nature’s candy was nourishing and nostalgic.

I walked on with a handful of huckleberries, enjoying each one for its unique balance of sweet and tart. Every time I saw a large huckleberry I stopped to pick it and its surrounding neighbors. I felt like Sal from Blueberries for Sal because I was eating the berries as fast as I could pick them. I knew I wouldn’t be able to take them home with me. They were best enjoyed here where they grew. I knew that just like Sal knew blueberries were best fresh from the field.

The huckleberry lined trail turned back toward the lake and I crossed the outlet over the log jam that has been there for years. I passed some people hanging out by the area they had camped in overnight. Their cheerful voices rang over the trail along with the rustling sounds of packing up camp. The trail started to climb again. My tired and unaccustomed legs were starting to protest the mileage now, but I was not mentally ready to be done.

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Climbing up toward Gem Lake I made sure to look back down at the sweeping views of Snow Lake. The sun was now kissing the lake making all sorts of magical blue shades of color. I stopped to take it in and take pictures, relishing in the rest that a landscape photography session provided. The sun was starting to hit the trail, and it was going to be warm and dusty soon. I had left the easily accessible huckleberry snacks as I left Snow Lake, though some bushes appeared here and there.

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The sun finally found me I before I crested the ridge before Gem Lake. The heat was instant but not unbearable. Gem Lake finally came to view and I smiled at its beauty. Wright Mountain rose as the backdrop to the lake. I looked up at where I had stood those many years before with Michael and thought, “I can do that.”

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The trail followed around the edge of Gem Lake and I eventually turned off to the right to climb up to another ridge. My hands pressed down on my thighs willing them to continually push me upward. I stopped more now enjoying the shade, I would be exposed to the sun again soon, likely for the rest of the morning. I passed near the spot where we had camped those six years ago and where we watched a spectacular pink, purple, and orange sunset.

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The trail up to Wright Mountain is not a maintained trail. It seems to stay mostly obvious from foot traffic alone. I followed the dusty goat trail up the far side of the mountain from Gem Lake. Views into the glacially carved valley below opened up as I climbed above the hardy alpine trees. Some of the trails steep sections would make a seasoned trail builder scoff. I was extremely careful as my body was feeling exhausted. “Is it really safe to continue?” I wondered to myself periodically. I was checking in with how my body felt physically and how sharp I was feeling mentally. I cross referenced this with the terrain I was scrambling up.

Continuously checking in with myself and my surroundings I slowly climbed up. Dirt gave way to large boulder talus and the path of least resistance was no longer obvious. “Is this safe? Am I safe?” I wondered checking in. I weighed my options to my feelings and decided to continue. I tried to recall the path we had taken so many years ago and followed it to the best of my memory. A few cairns along the way proved I was mostly on the right track. Carefully I climbed using my hands for support when I felt uncomfortable. Three or four points of contact was always better than two.

Finally the boulders got smaller and the path more obvious as the summit came into view. I was going to make it. How did I make it? Perhaps it was sheer willpower alone that brought me back to the summit of Wright Mountain, but I also now knew that I was stronger than I had thought. I celebrated my victory with a yell and a happy dance.

A 360 degree view overloaded my senses. Clear air made it so I could see for miles. Glacier Peak (Dahkobed) and Mount Baker’s (Kulshan) white glacial peaks beamed out in the sun. I admired their height and beauty. The green of the forests that surrounded me in every direction was breathtaking. Swaths of land saved for recreation, conservation, and responsible use were all around me. How fortunate was I that this land was put aside for me and for all of us to admire and enjoy.

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With so much on my mind I forgot my legs were so tired. Sit. I need to sit. I found the flattest, most sit-able rock I could and plopped down after taking some pictures and a 360 video. Snack time with a view. I sat facing Gem Lake and in the distance was Snow Lake. I could see where I had come from and how I would get back. The blue waters of Gem and Snow Lake sparkled in the late morning sun as I pulled out my snacks.

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A light breeze cooled the air to a perfect recovery temperature as I tried the burn the image of this view into my mind. I took a few more pictures to help with the memory before signing the summit register and heading back down Wright Mountain with extreme caution. This was not a time for any mistakes as I was alone, tired, and off the main trail. I took my time getting down from the boulder field and found the dusty trail again before making my way back to Gem Lake. Gem’s icy blue waters enticed me for a swim, but I decided against it. I splashed some cool water on my face to fight off the warmth that was coming over the wilderness area.

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I had short climb out of the lake basin before I would take a long downhill back to Snow Lake. As I got to the high point on the ridge I looked back up at Wright Mountain looming over Gem Lake and felt proud. My legs were now like jelly as I struggled down the moderately steep, rocky, and dusty trail. More people were hiking up now. It is even busy on a Tuesday out here.

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I got back to the huckleberries and ate as much as I could without spending too much time. Enjoying them fully again with the nourishing boost they gave me. Back down across the talus slope where pikas were now calling to each other and basking in the sun. I said hello to them all as I followed along the trail back up and away from the lake. Eventually climbing back out of the basin Snow Lake was in up to the ridge so I could go back to my mom’s car I had borrowed awaiting in the next valley over.

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Tired and ready for the hike to be over I kept on. This had to be more miles than I have walked in months. Once I got down from the ridge onto the relatively easy grade of the trail in the valley where I started, I began to wonder if I could be faster next time. How could I feel better? How could I move faster? How could I go further? How could I enjoy myself more?

All these questions I answered by deciding I could be in better endurance shape. If I was fitter and stronger my body wouldn’t hold me back, I could go faster, I could see more, and I could enjoy the climbs and the difficult miles even more. As I broke out into a few short sections of running on my way back down the valley I decided I would train for this marathon. I would put in the hours and would commit to months of building a base for the future that looked full of adventure. It was up to me to prepare. It was up to me to stay motivated. It was up to me to find a way to accomplish my goals. It was up to me.