Dock Butte and Blue Lake
08/05/2006

4.5 Miles
1500 Feet Elevation Gain

We got a late start this morning, leaving the house after noon. Callie and Scott were both tired (Scott was up until 5 am reading) and it made for a quiet drive until we almost got into an accident north of Marysville. Three cars just in front of us slammed into each other. I swerved out of the way and avoided it, but my hands and legs shook from the scare.

Our intent this weekend was to take a short hike and soak in the Baker Hot Springs to relax afterward. I stopped off at the ranger station in Sedro Woolley to gather current trail and road conditions where I ran into Dermot, my ex-coach from my hurling team. He said he was camping for the first time. Now, he’s in charge of some committee for the Sierra Club and Scott asked why it would be his first time camping. Maybe it was his first trip of the year. Gotta give the Sierra Clubbers the benefit of the doubt.

Birdsview Brewing Company

Along SR 20, I wanted to stop at the Eagle Haven Winery, having fallen in love with their Madeleine Angevine and Siegerrebe, but I resisted in the interest of expediency. Unfortunately, I noticed that the Birdsview Brewing Company had recently opened and wasn’t able to restrain myself. I stopped in and bought a 64 ounce “growler” of their amber ale, which I am enjoying at the time of this writing. I highly recommend anyone that is in the area to try it.

We took the Baker Lake Road from SR 20 and headed north for about 12 miles before taking a left on the well-maintained Forest Service Road 12. 12 branched into 13, and finally into 1230. 1230 was a much different story. My Dodge pickup, despite its new tires, was having a tough time holding traction on the washboard road up the switchbacks. Callie was nervous, but I took my time and enjoyed the Fireweed that lined the road (from my peripheral vision of course).

Fireweed

Finally, about 9 miles from Baker Lake Road, we reached the trailhead. Only a couple other cars were parked there and we all stepped out into a barrage of biting black flies. They covered my exposed legs immediately and felt like I ran into a patch of nettles. The only thing that kept them away was to keep moving, so I used that as a motivator for the kids to head out.

Five-Stamened Mitrewort?

The trail dropped at first, surprising Callie who pointed out that almost every hike we go on is headed immediately uphill. She wasn't wrong, though, because shortly after registering, we headed upward. Up and up and up. Upon reaching the first vista, Callie and Scott gladly took a break to allow me to take some more photos, but the flies persisted and we had to keep moving. The image of Mount Baker filled most of the horizon, but the kids hadn’t noticed since they were just staring at the trail in front of them. It was a nice, warm day, and I enjoyed the exertion. Callie and Scott didn’t and started arguing about who got to be in front, how fast we should go, and other silly stuff, so I let Scott take off ahead on his own. He likes to feel like a big boy. Hey, why is it that when you call someone a “big boy,” they always take it to mean the opposite?

A break...but not from the flies

Callie was tired and thirsty, but didn’t want a drink of water. Poor thing, she didn’t seem to be having the best time. I felt guilty for it, but if the kids had their way, they might never leave the house or have any sort of exercise. They always really enjoy the experience (the destination, not the journey) and love to talk about it afterward, and this time, it was much the same.

"We're not going up that, are we Daddy?"

Finally, we reached some meadows and spotted a large rock formation (butte) ahead. “We’re not going up that, are we daddy?” Callie asked. “Not sure,” I said, but I thought we probably were. She whined a little, but upon seeing the first patch of snow, her attitude completely changed. She ran uphill, now demonstrating that she wasn’t as tired as she’d led me to believe, and stomped in the little piles of snow. She grabbed a handful of it and pressed it to her forehead until it went numb. Then she tried it on her chin, and it went numb too. We hiked up a higher grade than before, but she was distracted by the joys of snow and didn’t seem to notice. Every once in a while, I would get a face full of snow when she tossed it up behind her, but she was happy and it didn’t bother me. Now, she enjoyed the tarns, the snow, the flowers, and commented on the erosion caused by a road carved into Mount Baker. Now that’s my girl

Snow...

... in August!

Views of Loomis Mountain, Twin Sisters, and Mounts Baker and Shuksan were incredible and huge. Luckily, I didn’t trip when my eyes were fixed upward. When they weren’t pointing up, they were pointing down at the White Mountain Heather, Lupine, and other wonderful alpine plants that were making their summer appearance.

Arctic Lupine

A couple from Vancouver passed us up. They weren’t breathing hard or sweating, and the woman was much too pretty to be hiking in the mountains. Actually, there are quite a few beautiful women on the trails. More so than most places. Scott even made an observation to that effect. While hiking up the talus slope on the final climb to the top, the pretty couple passed us on their way back down again too. “It’s totally worth it,” they said.

Loomis Mountain and tarn

Beautiful Mount Baker

Mount Shuksan behind the trees

A family came running down the slope just before we hit the top, followed by their dog (unleashed, of course). They had never heard of yielding to those climbing uphill, and it was too bad that they didn’t run a little faster and farther.

White Mountain Heather

We made one last, scary maneuver of climbing up a tree root and a banked rock with a few-hundred foot drop behind us and reached the summit. Scott and Callie both had huge smiles and a beaming sense of accomplishment. Scott pointed out the USGS survey marker to Callie and they were so proud of themselves. Scott even gave Callie one of his Cliff Bars. We hung out, ate, looked at the beautiful, 360 degree views, and inspected the last remnants of the lookout that was burned down. I tried lying down to take a photo, but glass shards were everywhere. If you’ve packed a beverage all the way up here and drank it, why can’t you pack it down? It’s lighter, and gravity helps you the whole way! Inconsiderate a-holes.

Scott on the last part of the climb

Callie making the final approach

Dammit, is this a krummholz?

Callie's first summit!

USGS Reference Mark on Dock Butte

We had complete solitude all the way back. Callie, of course, picked up some more snow and a couple of little rocks. She likes to pick up rocks on every hike we go on, despite Forest Service regs and Leave No Trace tactics. Thoreau did it, so it can’t be too bad, plus, these places probably won’t exist in the same form they are today when she gets older.

Scott trading Callie a Cliff Bar for future favors

The summit of Mount Baker

Meadows on hill south of Dock Butte

Juvenille Western Toad

Scott took off again, this time without waiting for us at regular intervals. Upon reaching the fork in the trail that headed toward Blue Lake, he wasn’t there and I figured that he'd headed all the way back to the truck. I tightened up my shoulder straps on my pack and ran back to the trailhead. Scott was there feeding Gray Jays (I told him he shouldn’t be doing that and threw a little crumb to them when he wasn’t looking). He put his pack back on and we ran back to the fork. Callie’s feet were starting to blister and I told her we could just turn in, but she wanted to keep pressing on to see the lake. We were so close after all. We’d seen Blue Lake from the trail to Dock Butte, and it looked worth the extra mile-and-a-half. The flora started changing as we neared the lake, and some large, gray chunks of fur sat in the middle of the trail. I wonder what battle took place here.

Blue Lake from Dock Butte trail

Scott, again, went ahead and said “here it is!” Callie ran ahead and I followed. With the light, glacial flour, and deepness of the lake shone a wonderful, artificial aqua-turquoise blue. The cliff overhead reflected perfectly in the lake in the calm afternoon and protected the snow patches on the steep bank. Fish rose to eat their dinner, and some jumped all the way out of the water for the bouncing insects. As the kids filtered some water, we heard a “woo hoo!” from across the water. I investigated and a woman was camping out on a little peninsula. We left her alone and hiked back toward the truck.

Hiking to Blue Lake with blisters

By the time we got to the trailhead, it was after 7:00 and too late to go to Baker Hot Springs. I'd neglected to bring my headlamp, and Callie and Scott were pooped. We thought it would be safer to just declare the day over and go home.

The drive back down was even more nerve-racking for Callie. Wary of the steep drop-offs, the glare on the windshield made me slow down and have to look out the side window to see where we were going. I stopped to identify some Goat’s Beard and I told Scott about the “leaves of three” guideline about poisonous plants as I handed him a specimen of it. He stopped to notice the 3 times compound leaves and threw it to the ground. Sick humor.

We got home after nine and lined up for the showers. I love taking a shower and being able to see the dirt that washed off of me!

Blue Lake, how apropos!