The Alpine Lakes Wilderness is full of... lakes. Who would have guessed it? Most of those lakes have trails and campsites and don't require permits. We settled on a lake at the treeline with opportunities to explore the surrounding area and get above the forest.

Given the fires, we shouldn't have been disappointed to see a wet day forecast for our first day. It had rained hard the day before so everything was soaked and on a brushy trail that means we were soaked within a few hundred feet of the trailhead. As the clouds blew through the trees all around us we had a cold climb up the steep trail and then down into the lake basin.

We saw one group coming down who said we should look for the site to the right of the arrival at the lake. Go counter-clockwise toward the waterfall. Um... ok. The best sites looked like they were to the left, but there were already tents that way so we headed toward the waterfall. And the bees. It's been a bad year for bees or hornets or wasps or whatever they were. The nest was in the low trees right along the trail so we pushed hard past and escaped unstung.

At the waterfall, there was no sign of a camp site. The boy scouted around and we were about to give up when he found a trail along the shore leading to a great spot. We pitched the tent and changed into dry clothes just as the rain stopped. We spent the rest of the evening chasing pikas, fishing, and playing cards. (And I spent most of the night hoping the weather would clear for the next day.

In the morning... clouds. But with sucker holes that were getting bigger and bigger. By the time we'd finished breakfast the sky was more blue than not and the rocks were mostly dry. This latter was important as we were headed to a lake 1,000 feet above us and we'd be hopping rocks pretty much the whole way.

What does it mean to "hop rocks?" The rocks were mostly between the size of a lawnmower and a small car. We picked a spot we were trying to get to and stepped across gaps. For the most part, the rocks were stable. The odd one tilted under our weight. "This one moves!" we'd tell each other as we picked our way to the stream cutting through the cliff.

It wasn't actually as bad as it looked from afar. There were easy lines to follow on both sides of the creek so we bounced back and forth choosing the ones we liked most. Above the cascade, we found snowfields that led to the tarn we had set as our destination. It was wonderful.

There was SCIENCE! to be done, of course, as there almost always is. Henry measured snow depth while I took pics of the wildlife. We'd found pikas near camp and could hear them all around us at the tarn, but they were nowhere to be seen. The marmots were plenty vocal and a young one were not in the least concerned as we passed close to his rock.

Back down at camp we jumped in the lake to freshen up. Even though the sun was bright, there was snow on the bank so it was cold. It was the kind of cold that takes your breath away and has me entering the water in short steps with lots of "oohs" and "aahs" and "NOPE" and "You splash me ONE MORE TIME and..."

Unfortunately, we experienced a stove malfunction that prevented us cooking so rather than suffer through a cold dinner and breakfast we opted to pack up and head out for a hot meal in town on the way home. (Our decision to leave was even easier given the only other people camping at the lake had a very loud speaker system and a lousy taste in music.)

Our hike out felt shorter than the hike in and drier, too. When we had finished the climb out of the lake basin we were rewarded with a cool breeze blowing over the ridge. It pushed the bugs away and made the downhill even easier. Plus we got to see the views we missed on the way up.

It wasn't the spectacular adventure we'd planned up north, but it was a great couple of days on the lands of the Skykomish people with my son.