Carne Mountain to High Pass (page 14)

Suiattle Pass from Coudy Pass. Glacier Peak looming around the corner.

This section of the Cascades is truly one of my favorites and the Cloudy Pass/Suiattle Pass area is simply jaw-dropping. You just go from one spectacular vista to another, thinking that it can't possible get any better. Then you round the next corner to find that, yes, it can.

However as Mica and I stood atop Suiattle Pass looking over the Suiattle river valley to ruggedly beautiful Glacier Peak, I felt rotten. My head hurt, my back ached, my stomach rebelled from the little bit of soup I'd eaten the night before. And it pissed me off that all this was ruining the beautiful moment.

Looking west down the Suiattle River Valley

I took a few photos and headed down to the valley floor and the junction with the Buck Creek trail. To tell the truth, I don't remember a whole lot about the section down to the Suiattle River headwaters, other than it was four miles of switchbacks down forested slopes. After crossing the river we stopped for a lunch break and I must admit I was sorely tempted to set up camp at this sunny, albeit lumpy, spot.

But after chastising myself for my physical wussiness, I decided my sore back was nothing more than a continuing symptom of the sore muscle problem I'd left town with. The nausea was probably caused by nothing more than the high temperatures, and my inability to urinate was because I just hadn't been drinking enough.

Besides, the couple I'd talked to the night before at Lyman Lake had mentioned a wonderful basin overlooking Glacier Peak that had great camping, delicious water, and wonderful solitude. It certainly sounded better than the bumpy potential campsite I was sitting in at the moment. So, with lifted spirits Mica and I hiked on, entering the shady forest and climbing upward through stately trees towards the promised nirvana of the basin camp.

But of course, we passed the way-trail leading up to it. I believe I know which way we should have turned, but at the time we had receded into a mechanical plodding up a never-ending dirt trail. At least I had. Mica swears she was doing just fine, thank you very much! I remember looking at the faint spur trail and thinking, 'Naw--that can't possibly be it."'But it most surely was. Oh, well ... another trip for another time.

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