Clear Lake Barn
Padilla Bay
Clear Lake Barn
Padilla Bay

The Enchantments are a part of the Alpine Lakes Wilderness, (which is itself a part of the Wenatchee National Forest) located near the town of Leavenworth, along Highway 2, in Washington State.
The Enchantments area is actually very small, making up maybe 10 square miles. Packed in to this wondrous world there are scads of small lakes and tarns of fantastic hues of blue and green surrounded by stark jagged peaks.
Autumn brings fantastic colors. Because of the high elevation of the Enchantments Basin (between 7,000 and 8,000 feet) there are dense stands of larch. These trees have needles, and come fall they turn a bright orange color, and look like they are aglow from inside.
I spent some time reading about the trail and lakes, the approach and parking and all that. There are two routes in to, or rather up to, the Enchantments Basin. One is very long (12 miles)with a lot (more than 6’000 feet) of elevation gain. The other route is a little shorter, and has a little less elevation gain, but it includes a hike up Aasgard Pass (more than 2,000 feet up in less than one mile).
Last year I’d tried the long route, and so opted for the “shorter, easier” route this time.
I recruited two of my friends to help me use the 5-day permit I’d won. I gave them fair (sort of) warning about the hike.
Sometimes I am guilty of recruiting companions by omitting to explain any of the hazards of the trip. I figure that we are all on a need to know basis and the way I interpret this, as it relates to backpacking, is that all they need to know is that all will be glorious!
The first days short hike took us up to Colchuck Lake. We arrived late in the day and from the lake could see the gash of Aasgard Pass soaring above the lakes far edge.
Late morning finds us clamboring over the boulder fields along the lake at the base of the trail up.
The morning light flares behind the larch atop the pass.
I am not sure of the weight of our packs, we had a lot of food, a heavy 4-season tent and I have a lot of photo gear, I would guess maybe 40 to 50 lbs each.
Its hard to describe what its like, struggling up this interminably long steep slope…as a comparison, if you’ve ever done the hike up to Sahale Glacier Camp, the last part of that hike is a very steep scramble up scree slopes to the camp at the base of Sahale Peak. Well, Aasgard Pass is like doing 15 of these sections, in a row!
A positive minded person (or one trained in the Magic of the Marketing Apocalypse) would maybe describe the hike up as challenging, or strenuous; trying to put a positive spin on the trail.
I would describe the trip up Aasgard pass as insanely grueling, ridiculously steep, painful, murderous, masochistic and plain torture. If you fancy hiking straight up a steep mountain with a huge pack, then, you’ll love the trip!
Okay, enough bitching. Once you manage to crest the pass your arrive in a wonderland of rock and ice. Dragontail Peak’s serrated edge rips the sky asunder above Isolation Lake.
Ice fields dot the lake’s edge. A cool wind and a long drink from the icy stream revive me. along the lakes edge.
There are several inviting tent spots here and we quickly set up our portable North Face fortress and prepare food.
There are a smattering of larches up here in the alpine zone, but mostly its rocks and water.
The next day as we start hiking I tell my two friends that this will probably be one of the best days hiking ever. We set out excited to see what the day has to offer.
Each turn of the trail elicits a new sense of wonder. The larch thicken as we descend.
This basin is on fire with orange. As a true color junky I am juiced to my eyeballs with sensory overload.
Finding the trail junction amid an orange forest, we branch off and start the easy climb up to Prussik Pass, in search of Gnome Tarn.
A little searching and gawking later were there. The place is as promised, nestled at the base of Prussik Peak, exquisitely framed by larch and water. I enter a photographic trance state.
Lingering for lunch we new set off again. Ambling my way back up to camp I encounter a few hikers who report mountain goats ahead. I arrive back at camp and there is a Mom and her young kid, looking for grass and munching away.
A new photo frenzy starts I circumnavigate the goats several times as they make their way about.
The small ponds make wonderful reflections of the sky.
The Knife’s Edge is a section of the Pacific Crest Trail in the Goat Rocks Wilderness in Washington State. Here the trail has been blasted and carved into the top-most edge of the ridge.
As one heads north on the PCT the trail climbs through the colorful meadows of Snow Grass Flats, through the snow and on to rock and scree to reach a promontory on the side of Old Snowy.
We chatted for a few minutes, he seemed ready to go, but I distracted him by having him pose for more pictures while I plied him for info. All hikers going long distances pick up a nick-name, and his seemed to fit very well.
He was very friendly and certainly didn’t seem tired, stressed or over worked. In fact he looked and acted like someone out for a stroll on a nice Saturday afternoon.
But he did seem a bit antsy to keep walking….
A friend invited me along for a trip to Crystal Mountain Resort, to camp out under the stars and see if we could capture images of the milky way over Mount Rainier.
The drive to the resort is itself, a beautiful ride. Arriving we purchased a gondola ticket ($22.00) and rode up to the restaurant.
We stayed overnight, taking pictures of the resort, sunset, gondola and of course, Mount Rainier. Here are a few images.
2014 marks the 50th anniversary of the signing of the Wilderness Act. In September of 1964 President Johnson signed into law the Wilderness Act, one of the most important pieces of legislation in the US regarding protection and preservation of Wilderness.
Wilderness 50 “The 50th Anniversary National Wilderness Planning Team (Wilderness50) is a growing coalition of federal agencies, non-profit organizations, academic institutions, and other wilderness user groups whose purpose is to plan and eventually implement local, regional, and national events and projects, specifically designed to elevate the profile of wilderness during the 50th anniversary celebration.”
One of their programs was to hold a photo contest and use the winning images as a part of their plans to inform people about the significance of the Wilderness Act.
More than 50 images were chosen and these will be displayed as large format prints in the Smithsonian Museum, in Washington DC starting in September!
I submitted several images to the competition and this image, here was chosen as an Honorable Mention in the People in Wilderness Category and will be used on signage for the various events and displayed in the museum.
Sahale Glacier Camp in the Steven Mather Wilderness in North Cascades National Park, in Washington.
As a part of the process I was asked to submit a personal story about the image. Here it is:
“My connection with wilderness began when I was 16. I spent a month in the Sawtooth Wilderness in Idaho, learning how to backpack, climb and survive. The trip changed my life and encouraged me to continue. Treks along the Pacific Crest Trail and the Andes followed.
Then my life changed again and I was off on a different purpose. For almost 20 years I followed the light only to wind up in the darkness. And then I felt the wilderness call to me again, beckoning me back into her arms.
I had packed my old life in boxes and uncovering them produced an old hiking guide. I scoured it and found the most exciting sounding trip in there, recruited a few friends to accompany me and off we started.
I had forgotten what mileage and elevation gain portended and as we began our trip up to Sahale Camp. It slowly came back to me, what sweat and struggle were all about.
We finally made it to the camp well after dark and collapsed in our tent.
This image was captured the next morning. My life was changed anew; I had found a new purpose. Wilderness had rescued me again.”
I am excited and proud that any image of mine would be used to promote and protect wilderness!
This has been officially added to my list of all time favorite hikes. Last week was my second visit and I was even more enamored than before…

Sometimes known as the “Subway”, Left Fork Canyon is out of the main section of the park. To get there you need to go north on the Kolob Reservoir Road, out of Virgin. Permits are required for ANY hiking there, which is a wonderful thing as it makes for a real wilderness experience which is totally unlike hiking in the Zion Canyon part of the park.
The “subway” name comes from the shape of the canyon walls, as you can see here.

This last shot I managed from inside the subway using my new 14mm lens. 
A truly stunning location. Make sure to book a permit before you head down there next time, you will not be disappointed!
When I plan a backpacking trip and am working out where to camp each night my main consideration is “Where can I take the best pictures?” I think about the best views and which angle of light I want. And so my camp sites and hiking goals each day are based upon trying to be at the right place at the right time.
Capturing images of wildlife is not as easy to predict. Bear, goats, deer and marmots are all doin’ their own thing. One never knows when you’ll cross paths, so I simply hope for a magical moment and that my camera will be ready!
This summer I hiked the Copper Ridge – Whatcom Pass Loop, in North Cascades National Park. I planned camp sites atop Copper Ridge and Tapto Lakes. But the most magical part of the trip was my encounter with salmon spawning in Indian Creek at its confluence with the Chilliwack River.
The trek began at the Hannegan Pass trail head; we hiked up into the park and out along Copper Ridge. Silesia Camp, atop the ridge is unbelievably stunning.
Copper Ridge Sunset Panorama
The long descent down to the ford of the Chilliwack River provides a wonderful opportunity to observe striking changes in flora. Pine forests slowly transform into rain forest as one nears the valley bottom. The forest is wet, humid, different…
Then come the two fords, first the Chilliwack. My sore aching feet welcome the cold fresh waters…then I hobble across a short section of wet forest and come to Indian Creek.
The creek was full of salmon, bright orange in color, hovering in the crystal clear water. Here Indian Creek is about 10 meters across, its banks enveloped with dark green. The sky is a narrowing strip curving away.

Looking up steam, back towards the North Cascades, Indian Creek is choked with fallen trees.
Indian Creek
The river bed is here soft silt and there brightly colored stones, adding to the illusion of the salmon practicing a form of Jedi levitation.
Floating Fish
The view north, towards Canada is equally alluring, the confluence of the two streams creates an opening. The sky is now blue with dark clouds gathering.
Confluence
I feel like I have been transported to an entirely different point of the globe. Time seems to stand still. There is a fallen tree stretching out in the middle of the stream and I make my way there. A birch provides some support as I try to balance myself and marvel at the majesty of the fish. Some seem playful, darting here and there, others simply hangin’ out, languidly gliding in the waters.
Vantage Point
As I wander around the banks I sense some motion up stream. Looking up I see a huge brown bear, maybe 800 lbs along the right side of the creek. I freeze, as does the bear. My racing heart slows after a few minutes, my thoughts reactively consider flight, then a millisecond later I am calculating how far the camera is and how brave I will be to approach such a huge bear.
The allure of photographing such a magnificent creature snacking on salmon easily wins the moment. Gathering the camera I start up stream towards the bear. My partner, seeing our visitor, lets out a scream, and off he goes, back into the forest.
I stand still for a while, reviewing the image of the bear in my mind…wow, what a fantastic place!
Crystal Clear
The night brings horrific storms, heavy rain, incessant thunder and lightening envelope our tiny tent. But here in this deep gash of a valley we are protected. With all the noise I wonder if our giant furry friend will come visit us, maybe hungry for some of our food, but I realize that he is likely very well fed and so not interested.
The early morning fog lies thick across the water. We linger for some gap in time. The crisp, fresh air and cold clear water sharpen my senses. I am quite happy to be alive!
Misty Morning
Every year the first weeks of August bring the salmon back to Indian Creek. Maybe next year I’ll see you there…
Salmon swimming Indian Creek
The trek started at the Hannegan Pass trail head. We arrived Friday morning to a full parking lot and sunny skies ready to tackle a hard 5-day loop through the North Cascades. Weather reports for the area called for dicey weather, partly sunny/cloudy with a high percentage of thundershowers. But like most fools I told myself that this forecast did not by some magical, mystical way, apply to me.
Actually the story started 7 years ago when I hiked the Copper Ridge trail forded the Chilliwack River and made acquaintance with a bunch of spawning salmon. The image of all those bright red salmon in the pristine waters, deep in the wilderness just pulled me back, that and the lure of making it to Tapto Lakes, above Whatcom Pass.
The first days hike took us up to Hannegan Pass and then, entering the North Cascades National Park, up to Selesia Camp on Copper Ridge. This is easily on my list of top 3 or 4 camp sites in the park, the views of Mount Shuksan, Ruth Mountain, Whatcom Peak and the Picket Range and many more are just breathtaking.
The Picket Range under Storm Clouds
Mount Shuksan from Selesia Camp
The night brought lightening and thunder and rain but the morning, to our surprise was clearing. We headed up to the Copper Ridge Lookout, at 6,600 ft the highest point along the trail. The park ranger was there to greet us and we toured the lookout while she pointed out the names of all the peak surrounding us. The trail ascending to the lookout from the north meanders through a bright green meadow in a sinuous s-curve just below the lookout. Years ago I captured a wonderful shot of a hiker climbing out of the abyss…
Out of the abyss, Copper Ridge, North Cascades – 2006
Hiker Approaching the Copper Ridge Lookout – 2013
Tanya, the Park Ranger commented that a lone hiker was approaching from Copper Lake and so now another chance was upon me to see about capturing again the silhouette against the backdrop of deep valleys.
Reluctantly departing from the views and company at the lookout we continued our ridge walk, descending to Copper Lake we stopped for lunch and a swim in its azure waters.
Surprisingly the weather held up and as we made the long traverse of the ridge the views were magnificent. Mount Redoubt and Bear Mountain stood out along the way.
Copper Ridge Panorama
Storm clouds over Mount Redoubt
Reaching the end of the ridge we started down the long, seemingly endless series of switch backs towards the ford of the Chilliwack River and Indian Creek. The changes in the flora were dramatic as we descended from a bare forest floor carpeted with pine needles into a real rainforest, lush and green and wet.
The two channels are parallel for a short time here, first crossing the Chilliwack and then a short section of forested river bed we came at last to Indian Creek and behold, the salmon were there, spawning in great numbers. Taking off shoes and socks again we looked for a ideal spot to rest and relax to enjoy the wonder of the place. a gravel bar at the point of confluence between the two streams was a perfect place.
Indian Creek is not a big stream, maybe 80 feet across here as it spreads out along the valley floor and shallow, knee-deep with some nooks where the water is as deep as 3 to 5 feet.
Salmon in the Creek
The salmon were there, just as before. They were not headed anywhere, the group of 70 or so simply treading water, looking happy to finally be back home.
Clambering out along logs and snags I tried to capture shots of the scene. the bright color of the fish is so impressive, they seemed to hover in the sparkling clear waters, the colorful stones looking like the ground far below while the salmon soared through the sky above.
The place is so remote, the forest envelopes you and it is like having gone back in time. Deep in that valley was like being in a different life, on a different planet.
I bounced between standing still in wonder, trying to get some food, wanting to capture images and the strong desire to do something to take care of my aching feet. About 100 feet upstream a large brown/black bear appeared along the shore. we both froze, considering each other. As I started towards the camera a sharp noise frightened him back into the forest, my dreams of imaging the bear snacking on salmon vanished…
Sunset came swiftly. reds and blues and pinks and purples painting the waters with their fantastic hues.
Sunset at Indian Creek
Night brought even harsher weather than the night before. The crashing of thunder now muted by the deepness of our camp in the forest. I was again happily surprised to awaken to clearing skies and spent the next hour or so back in the stream with the salmon. Morning fog made the scene even more ethereal.
Morning fog over Indian Creek
It was a struggle to pull away and start the long slog up to Whatcom Pass.
The suspension bridge above Indian Creek sways as you cross, the views up stream were captivating, the water coursing down in the dark green forest.
Suspension bridge over Indian Creek
Indian Creek Waterfalls
During the days travel we encountered many people: day-hikers and mountaineers, young and old(er), lost and found. I advised one and all to make a point to take the time to go visit the salmon.
As we climbed up along Brush Creek the weather got gloomier and as we made it to the final climb at the valley head rain started. Our goal was Tapto Lakes that night, another hard 1,000 feet above the pass, but when we made it to Whatcom Camp the rains were pounding. Cold and wet we hurriedly set up the tent. Dry clothes, warm sleeping bags and hot food tend to improve the spirits quickly.
That night the storms really pounded. The tent was alight with flashes, the thunder and lightening coming simultaneously. Protected somewhat by the trees and the fact that we were a quarter mile down from the pass we lived through it, and awoke to an almost complete white out.
Mt Challenger lost in clouds
My desire to hike another 1,000 vertical feet evaporated and I headed down the trail, back towards the Chilliwack.
Once back at the junction we’d passed the day before my path turned upstream, headed to Hannegan Pass to complete the loop. Fording the Chilliwack is now a more daunting proposition, the valley steeper and more narrow. Hikers are afforded two choices: to ford the waist-deep waters or to pull yourself across in an aerial cable-car!
Chilliwack Cable Car
That choice was easy1 The cable car is in great shape, holding up to two backpackers (and their gear) the pulley system makes it easy to make the crossing, gliding 100 feet above the river below.
The last nights camp was at the Copper Creek camp, hoping to get a glimpse of meteors above we perched ourselves on the stones with w pie-sliced view of the heavens.
Stars along the Chilliwack River
The last days hike up and over Hannegan Pass and back to the car was completed before lunch, the trails edge bordered with a carpet of herbaceous wildflowers.
As always my feelings are mixed at trips end: relief at the prospect of real food, a warm shower, soft bed and time off my throbbing feet but as we jump in the car for the drive back my heart is already longing for the cool, clear waters of the Chilliwack…
Copper Ridge Panorama