After a scouting trip to Diablo Lake in the North Cascades
last year, we discovered on the topo that Desolation peak, the same one that Kerouac
spent 3 months atop in 1956, was just around the corner. Since reading his Dharma
bum adventures in high school, it had become a personal goal to climb
Desolation. Evidently the time had come. Nestled just 6 miles south of the
Canadian border, the “Easiest” approach to the trail head is via Ross Lake.
However, this presented its own difficulties. There is one boat ramp with car
access to the entire 23mi lake, and it resides in Canada. Without proper
passports, we opted for the alternative. Put in Diablo Lake and portage up the
dam to Ross.
The majority of our first day was spent driving up to the
North Cascades from Olympia, at least several hours depending on Seattle’s
traffic. We hit Diablo Lake in the midafternoon, locked down the truck and
hopped in the canoe. There is something about the color of the water of Diablo Lake,
a glowing emerald green, it is unlike anything else we’ve ever padded in. This
is attributed to glacial flour, or powdered rocks associated with the movement
of glaciers. This effect is intensified, as Diablo Lake is bottom fed by the
dam, taking the coldest water where particulates have settled from Ross Lake.
As a result, Ross Lake has a more normal hue of sea blue, and is also much
warmer. That afternoon we made our way across the lake, setting up an early
camp at hidden cove. I have to say, camping in the North Cascades is great, our
permits were free, parking was free, and at every campsite we stayed (some very
remote) they were equipped with bear boxes, picnic tables, and an outhouse. As
far as I’m concerned it was luxurious. Especially when it’s a single camp, and
you get it entirely to yourself –like hidden cove. After eating dinner we
bedded down for an early morning departure to Ross Lake.
With first light we were back in the canoe, and paddling up
the narrow canyon to the dam. Here there is a portage service offered that is
well worth it. Teaming up with other paddlers, they charged $20 for the mile
long trip with 500ft of gain. For single crafts they charge $30. Being in the first convoy, we dipped into
Ross Lake around 10:00 in the morning. We then paddled another 4 miles to our
next camp at McMillan. The camp featured a nice long wooden dock that provided
great views of the water as far as the eye could see. With fires raging in
Eastern Washington, visibility was limited to a couple miles at best.
The going was very smooth as we met little wind and calm
water. The days were hot, but jumping in the lake was a great way to cool off.
The next day we explored the Devil’s Canyon on the way to our next camp. As
soon as we entered the canyon walls, the temperature dropped dramatically and
our breath became immediately visible. Everywhere we looked, the water was
teeming with fish of all sizes. After a couple of tight maneuvers around a few
log jams, we came to a small waterfall, marking the end of our route (see picture
below). A couple miles further, and we landed at 10 mile Island, our next
campsite. Across the water to the west, one could hear the constant roar of
Skymo falls shooting down the cascade’s face. Drawn like a bug to the light,
later that afternoon we paddled over and inspected the falls in person.
On day four we continued North to Cat Island. Here we would
set up shop for a few days, acting as our base camp to Desolation peak. This is
when the wind began making its introductions. The following morning we got up
very early, paddled the mile to the trail head and started hiking. The trail
was 9.6 miles long round trip, with 4,500ft of gain. It was steep, but
eventually opened up into vast alpine meadows that gave views of the lake
below, Canada to the north and glaciers to the south. On the summit still sits
the same fire watch tower that Kerouac lived in, still used for the same
purpose. The ranger happened to be off duty while we were there, so we had the
summit to ourselves. We enjoyed it, ate lunch, took pictures and sang at the
top of our lungs. Coming back down we drank up the last of our water, making
for some thirsty miles. Eventually we came to a small spring in the mountain
side, trickling out water with a slow drip. Patience vs. thirst. Probably took
5 minutes to fill a half-litre bottle. We made do, and continued on down the
trail. By the time we made it back to the canoe, the wind had picked up significantly
creating white-caps on the water. Reluctantly, we slumped into the canoe and
began our very slow voyage back to Cat Island.
In the distance, we could make out one other paddler on the
water, whom we both assumed was paddling towards us. As we trudged on and came
closer, we realized they were going the same way we were, but the wind was
prevailing against them. An older women paddling alone, she was barely dipping
her paddles into the water. Despite the fact that we were hardly making headway
ourselves, we quickly decided to throw her a line anyway, which she tied on to
the front of her kayak. We began paddling as hard as we could, despite being exhausted
from an already long day. Nonetheless, we made our way towards Cat Island, one
stroke at a time. When we made it to the dock, the Women’s paddling companion
was waiting for us, leisurely enjoying himself from land. He didn’t seem to
pick up on the fact that this women had a migraine, and had zero interest in
paddling in the wind any time soon. She briefly thanked us and then laid on the
ground and took a nap.
Thankfully we had planned for a zero day on Cat Island. Even
better, it happened to correspond with a powerful thunderstorm that rolled
through the canyon. We took shelter, and enjoyed a day of nothing strenuous but
listening to thunder echo. The moisture also drastically increased the visibility.
All of a sudden our surroundings seemed brand new. The moss was greener, the
peaks more crisp, the water more blue. However, the wind never stopped blowing
against us, making our return south considerably more difficult. We spent
another night admiring Skymo falls from 10mi Island, and then continued south
to rainbow point. From here we made a day trip up big beaver creek to an
amazing old growth cedar stand. Very rarely do I see this level of old growth
left in a contiguous stand that stretches for miles. Two miles down the trail,
the stand climaxes with 2,000-10,000 year old trees that line the wetland.
Our last day was spent paddling the 12 remaining miles back
to the truck. We portaged back to diablo lake with a few canoe enthusiasts,
whom we shared good conversation. After making it back to the open waters of
the lake, we parked the canoe on a small island and jumped in one last time. We
forgot just hold much colder diablo lake is. Jumped in, jumped out and dried
off. 10 days paddling roughly 50 miles and 10 additional miles of strenuous
hiking had come to a close. Till next time!
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