What does it mean for the Ramparts to "open"? Aren't they National Forest on the lands of the Wenatchi people? Yes and yes. And... being in the mountains means winter's snows often persist well into actual summer. Don't get me wrong; I love snow in summer. It's the best way to keep cool. (It's called a "snow hat," but we'll talk more about that when we get into July.)

To be "open" in my mind, the road to the trailhead needs to be drivable with minimal damage to the car and avalanche danger needs to be consistently low. Ergo... June.

There was spotty snow at the trailhead and consistent snow a few hundred feet higher. Tink was stoked. I was stoked. What could be better than kicking steps up a steep hill? (Spoiler: It's nothing. Nothing is better.) We got to the lake as the sun was just tickling the far shore. Only minimal melting had occurred forming little pockets of electric blue around the edges. We walked straight across to the Gully of Doom™.

It was icy and treacherous, as its name implies. But at least it wasn't the usual loose rock and dirt with devious roots grabbing your feet. I had brought along my axe specifically for the Gully so it wasn't too terrible.

Atop the Gully the Ramparts opened up. Snow everywhere, but well consolidated making it easy to go where I wanted. And where I wanted was the top of my favorite glissading gully. It's north-facing so it holds snow even longer than the rest of the Ramparts. The gully drops about 400 feet in a quarter mile so it's a fast glissade. Especially early in the morning when the snow is still hard from the night. We flew down the gully with only moderate brain rattling thanks to the suncups.

After I stopped seeing double, Tink and I made our way to the Rampart Lakes for a quick dip (her, not me) and then started the climb up to Rampart Ridge itself. The high point of the area has amazing views, but isn't the usual pointy mountain and more just the high point on a ridge. Still nice. Today we opted to approach from the side usually too cliffy to manage with Tink. Deep snow made it an easy walk as we wound through the cliff bands.

Since we were again on a high point, we had more glissading opportunities to get back to the car. Some were great. Some were way too icy. And the Gully of Doom™ required downclimbing with the axe. Tink had one last drink from Lake Lillian's meltpools before we dropped out of the snow down to the car.

Surprise surprise, there was no one else there. Contrast that with the trailheads we passed on the drive home. Cars were crowding the shoulders as the lots overflowed. My pro-tip of the day: Go where the people aren't.

📍On the lands of the Wenatchi people.