Yeah, well, the river had other plans. The trail that used to go up that way? Wiped out. By the river. It's as though it was saying, "MY LAKE!" But petulant two year olds grow up and here we are three years later. There's now a trail that's safe from the river's fury (though a lot less pretty) and a new bridge across the river.

Sweeeeeeet.

First weekend in October and it's gorgeous out?

Sweeeeeeet.

We were at the trailhead around 11:30 and heading up the trail only a little while later. One of the more adventurous aspects of adventuring with young adventurers is sometimes they have adventures with their feelings. So the first little while of our trip wasn't exactly all rainbows and unicorns.

However, we held hands and shared cameras and suddenly it was a good trip. And then it got better.

How did it get better? We crossed the Inter Fork, climbed the far bank on an honest-to-goodness, maintained trail, and had views to kill for. That way? Oh, yeah, the Mountain. That way? The toe of the Emmons glacier. That way? The green lake we were hoping to find. And up? Not a single cloud in the sky.

We had to do a bit of scouting to find a good spot to drop down. There were numerous little footpaths to the edge of the moraine with great views, but no actual trail down to the lake. We wanted to get to the other side (Why? Ask the chicken.) so we followed the real trail a little bit and finally committed when we saw at least one other set of footprints heading down.

Too bad the prints disappeared in the woods. But really, what could possibly go wrong as we crashed through the thick brush in a glacial moraine?

Oh, right.

Still, we made it to the floor of the moraine and wound through loose rocks and scrubby brush to the shore of the lake. The water was amazingly cold and the blue green that only comes from a glacier.

Lunch was just lunch until I unveiled a tube of Pringles. They say rainbows end in pots of gold, but I didn't realize the gold was just pressed potatoes. Also, there were no little Irish guys dancing a jig.

On the way back, we took turns finding the best route. It turns out, having short legs is an advantage because you tend to stay away from dicier steps in favor of places you can walk. So Henry was a natural pathfinder.

Thanks to all the kids we found ourselves on the top of the moraine safe and (mostly) sound. Only poor Henry was the worse for wear after the girls gave him surprise kisses while we looked down on the lake.

Henry and Lilly ran most of the way down the Glacier Basin trail toward the car while Clara and I followed behind. With all the laughing and happiness you'd have thought we had summited earlier in the day. Or seen a unicorn.

I think seeing a unicorn is more likely. At least in the next few years.