Remember just the week before when Lilly and I spent the weekend in the Goat Rocks? It was awesome and amazing because I let her hike the hike she wanted to hike. (I know that's a lot of "hike," but stay with me.)
With Henry, I had planned a super epic trip into North Cascades National Park. The effort to get to that super epic location was, well, super epic. I knew Henry could do it, but it wasn't what he really had in mind for his adventure.
Kids aren't made for Type II fun. Type II is the kind of fun that makes for a great story, but isn't actually much fun when you're in the middle of it. It's what you'd get if you climbed 4,000 feet with a full backpack.
After the success I had listening to Lilly and letting her direct her trip I figured I'd try to take the same approach with Henry. Our trip began late Thursday night at the ranger station in Marblemount. Since we were heading into North Cascades National Park we had to have permits no matter where we would be camping. I knew my first choice would be popular so we drove up and slept in the parking lot. A laminated card with the number one meant we'd have our pick of spots.
Except all the spots we wanted were already taken by people that had slept in the backcountry while we were in the parking lot. Same was true of our backup destination. Henry and I discussed our options with the ranger and I let Henry make the final decision.
Thornton Lakes it was. I'm not sure if it was the idea of camping by a lake or the (relatively) modest hike or the insult Henry suffered when the ranger suggested the final rock climb might be too much for him. Whatever it was, we were headed for a low altitude (4,700 feet) lake for the next few days.
I was a bit disappointed. What little I could gather about the hike and the lake indicated it was going to be a fully treed adventure. I had hoped to show Henry the rugged beauty of the North Cascades, but instead we'd have about the same experience as if we were camping close to home.
Nonetheless, we climbed through the trees on the way to the lakes. It wasn't until we reached the ridge that the views opened up. Down below was Lower Thornton Lake, surrounded by exactly the types of mountains I wanted Henry to fall in love with. As glorious as the views were we had to drop 500 feet into the basin on the worst trail I've encountered in a National Park. It was loose, slick, and rooty. At the bottom was the rock climb the ranger was concerned about. Henry's only challenge was being a little too short.
At camp I started laying the groundwork for our middle day adventure. "Look at how beautiful that mountain is." "We should go up there." "It would be epic." Instead of buying into my plans Henry decided two things. First, we'd go swimming. Second, we'd play cards and eat popcorn. The water was cold and the popcorn was tasty. We ended the day playing cards until it was too dark to see.
In the morning I again started working on adventures. There were peaks all around. How could we not spend the day climbing them? Instead of heading up high, though, Henry decided we'd stay low. There was a trail to the upper lakes and that would be our adventure. Not as epic as I had hoped, but I remembered again it was Henry's trip.
The trail to the middle lake wound through the krummholz and up the gully connecting the two lower lakes. It's apparent that there are huge flows down the gully, probably during the spring. Massive boulders and logs complicated my ascent, but made it a playground for Henry. It was a great reminder that while I'm sometimes more interested in the destination, Henry is much more in the moment and about the journey.
The middle lake had a more alpine feel than the lower lake. The trees were smaller and sparser. Cliffs flanked the south shore forcing us to the circle around to the north across talus. We heard pika (but never saw them), marmots, and... wait... is that a bear?
Yes. A bear. Way across the lake a black shape was lumbering down to the water. AWESOME! Still far away it was exciting to see the bear as it descended to the water and swam along the shore to avoid the talus. Wow. Wow. Wow. How cool is this? Henry and I were totally stoked. When I felt the bear was close enough (about 200 yards away) I gave a shout.
The bear looked up at us and shrugged. Meh. I couldn't see, but I think it rolled its eyes. Clearly it was a tween.
As I had hoped, the bear turned and headed up the slope. It stopped occasionally to look in our direction and then kept climbing. We waited for the bear to make its way up and over the ridge so we could continue to the upper lake. It entered the trees and we watched where it should emerge.
Except instead of exiting the trees and heading over the ridge away from us the bear came out of the trees on the same trail we were on heading right toward us! Well, dang. So much for the upper lake. "Yo bear! Yo bear!" It looked again and took a step toward us.
Yup. Time to bail. Without panicking, we started back to the lower lake. Henry went first. I followed while keeping an eye on our ursine friend and a hand close to my bear spray. It continued following us until we crossed the creek and climbed out of the gully onto the shelf above the lower lake. The only stops we made were to gorge on berries. I assume the bear was doing the same so we lost no ground. We found a rock outcropping that gave us a great vantage point and refuge. I saw the bear one last time as it climbed the slopes on the other side of the lower lake. We played cards and had a snack before returning to camp.
Since our middle day adventure was cut short we had lots of time to hang out at camp. We read, played cards, and learned we could build houses of cards. (Is a deck of cards one of the 10 essentials? It should be.) The trick to the house of cards is getting a horizontal card up. There's an amazing amount of stability once that's in place. Henry got a couple levels up, but I managed to use all 52 cards as well as the jokers!
The next morning we packed up for the climb out of the lake basin. Henry was bubbling with energy for no apparent reason and raced up the hill. He was so full of it we decided to climb Trappers Peak on the way out.
Trappers is a thousand feet of scrambly "trail" along the south ridge above the lower lake. The broad summit is covered in granite with veins of quartz shot through. But if you're looking at the rocks, as beautiful as they are, you're not seeing the mountains all around. The Picket Range scratched the sky to the north; Mount Triumph stood high above the Thornton Lakes to the west; the heavily glaciated Snowfield Peak lay to the east.
Did Henry care? Yes and no. It was gorgeous. It was epic. It didn't quite live up to whittling a magic wand. Serious? Sirius. (See what I did there?)
Our hike down was uneventful, but long. WTA describes Trappers Peak as a 10.2 mile round trip. Exits always feel longer, especially if the payoff is mostly at the summit. Worse, it was hot and dusty as we got closer to the trailhead.
Every time I go out with the kids I learn more about adventuring with them. Maybe it's because they are growing and our reality is changing. Or maybe I've just been oblivious all this time. This trip was all about letting him lead and being flexible. Just like with Lilly, it excited him to be in charge and led us to amazing experiences whether it was a run-in with the bear or the unbelievable views from Trappers Peak.
Thanks to flexibility we were able to change our plans on the fly and take advantage of opportunities as they were presented. I'm not the most flexible guy there is (ask my wife) so this was my big win for the trip and a great reminder that we can all learn from our kids and improve ourselves.
This was the last big trip of the summer, but I can't wait to find out what they'll teach me next.
