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Thursday, January 22, 2026
Mazama Dome - via Chain Lakes Trail, September 2024
Day two of a weekend spent vanlifing it up the North Fork Nooksack River Valley. We'd snuck in a hike up Yellow Aster Butte the afternoon prior and awoke to overcast skies at Silver Fir Campground, where we'd overnighted. With little on the agenda for the day, we enjoyed a lie-in, had breakfast, and didn't get moving until sometime after noon. What to do, what to do? How about driving up to Artist Point to see if the weather might be any better up there?
Approaching Picture Lake, the clouds were slowly starting to part, with tantalizing patches of blue showing through. Hmm...not expected. Perhaps sensing my sudden restlessness, Agata suggested I take Pepper for a quick hike somewhere nearby while she hung back and listened to her audiobook. I'd been through the Bagley Lakes basin several times before, but always in winter, usually returning from a day of ski touring out in the Ptarmigan Ridge backcountry. It would be nice to finally see what it looks like without snow, I figured, and so-with puppers in tow-down from the parking lot to Bagley Creek we went.
We merged onto the Chain Lakes Trail at the outflow of Upper Bagley Lake and proceeded up into the small valley toward Herman Saddle. With the improving weather, glimpses of nearby Mount Shuksan began to appear, hinting at excellent views that would soon be ours to behold. We reached the saddle in what seemed like no time at all and, leaving the trail behind, turned up steep heather toward the crest of the timbered East Ridge of Mazama Dome. I wasn't entirely sure what my objective was, other than getting up on top of something with a name I could claim as a feather worthy of my cap. Mount Herman to the north looked interesting, but seemed a bit more involved than I realistically had time for-I'd promised to be back in about two hours, tops. Fortunately, Mazama Dome was just a short stroll away, and deciding it best to remain in Agata's good graces, I settled on this as my high point for the day.
A decent 360-degree panorama awaited from the partially treed summit, especially considering it tops out at a rather lowly 5,820 feet. The afternoon sun was doing its best to burn off the stubborn clouds swirling around neighboring mountaintops, but I couldn't linger long enough for that to fully materialize. Still, there were nice views toward Shuksan slowly emerging from its blanket of cloud, the craggy south face of Mount Herman, and down Anderson Creek Valley to the north. To the south, Table Mountain dominated the skyline, with a trio of lakes-Iceberg, Hayes, and Arbuthnet-spread out below to the southwest. I returned via the low saddle between Mazama Dome and Mount Herman before rejoining the trail for the quick hike back to the parking lot. All in all, a very worthwhile couple of hours farting about the Bagley Lakes area.
Yellow Aster Butte - Yellow Aster Butte Trail, September 2024
Spent a couple-three days in early September doing the vanlife thing and hiking with my SO out in the Mount Baker backcountry. First up on the agenda was a quick late-afternoon rip up to Yellow Aster Butte (YAB). This was my second time kicking dirt up the Tomyhoi Lake Trail, having skipped YAB on the first visit and instead continued on to bag Tomyhoi Peak. Beautiful area as always-good trails, excellent scenery, and all that-except I always seem to visit toward the end of summer or into fall, when fire-smoke season is often at its peak. At least this part of the North Cascades is much closer to home than it was back in 2003 when I was still Seattle-based, and despite the limited distance views on this day, it's hard to beat the view-to-effort ratio on this one.
We didn't get started until shortly after 3 p.m., but with the extended summer daylight we didn't need to rush. We left the main trail at the junction a bit over 2.5 kilometres in, shortly before Gold Run Pass, then traversed along the south side of YAB to reach a dirt platform low on the west shoulder of Peak 6148. The spur trail branching left toward a collection of small lakelets below was the route we'd followed en route to Tomyhoi all those years ago. This time, we turned right, climbing a series of tight switchbacks to the top of 6148. A short descent to a saddle followed, then an easy stroll along a well-defined trail to the summit proper, only about half a kilometer away.
A wonderful 360-degree panorama awaited us on top, with the Border Peaks-Larrabee Group hard to miss to the north. Goat Mountain also showed nicely to the southeast, with Mount Shuksan visible behind despite the smoky haze. About 2.5 hours one-way at a casual pace, we were back at the trailhead by 8 p.m., with just enough daylight left to make it to a nearby campground before nightfall. All told, YAB made for a near-perfect late-afternoon outing: straightforward access, delightful terrain, and big views for modest effort. Smoke or not, it's easy to see why this area remains so popular, and why it keeps drawing me back even after multiple visits. A solid way to kick off a few relaxed days of wandering around Bakerland.
Griswold Pass - Tuber Hill, Glacier View, Baryon, Muon, Meson & Lepton, September 2024
Finally made the journey out to Griswold Pass for a few days of exquisite alpine rambling! Officially part of the South Chilcotin Ranges, bound by the Lillooet River Valley to the south and the Nemaiah Valley (almost) far to the north, this is an incredibly remote area of pristine alpine beauty. The pass itself is situated among a cluster of peaks toward the headwaters of the Bridge River Valley, adjacent to the mighty Lillooet Icefield, and serves as an excellent base camp for adventures further afield. Access to the zone is by way of the Lillooet River FSR, Hurley River FSR, and Bridge River FSR, for a whopping ~110 kilometres of travel over unpaved roads and about six hours from my home in North Vancouver. The trailhead lies a few paces from a small cabin tucked near the end of the road, some 60 kilometres from the nearest "town," assuming the community of Goldbridge qualifies for such a distinction. Aside from that, there is literally nothing but a mind-boggling wilderness of peaks, valleys, and icefields that seem to go on forever. It goes without saying that this place truly feels like the back of beyond, a big part of why I'd wanted to visit ever since first learning of it some years back.
Wes and I had been discussing a trip out to Griswold Pass for some time and finally settled on making it happen over the Labour Day long weekend. We tossed around a few ideas for peaks to hike-something that would provide a good introduction to the area-and eventually settled on the "Subatomic Peaks" of Baryon, Meson, Muon, and Lepton, leaving Neutrino for another time perhaps. We also considered the pass's namesake, Griswold Peak, if time allowed, in addition to Tuber Hill and Glacier View Peak, both of which are easily bagged on the hike to camp at Griswold Pass proper. Proud to say we succeeded on all of the above except Griswold Peak, which would probably have been the least interesting of the lot anyway. Photos for this trip are organised by day and viewable by clicking the following links:
With Wes, Gabby, and Ross having departed the afternoon prior, Gina and I set out from North Vancouver on a fine September morning for the long drive up and over Railroad Pass toward the confluence of the Hurley and Bridge Rivers. Familiar territory for me, after so many peak-bagging trips in the Goldbridge area over the years. We turned left onto the Bridge River FSR, passed the spur used to access Mount Vayu almost 15 years ago now, and finally entered a new frontier. Many dusty kilometres of otherwise good travel brought us to the bridge over the river, followed by several more into the headwaters area, where the road proceeds a short distance northward into a tributary valley. A bit overgrown with water bars toward the end, but nothing the average SUV couldn't handle. I parked near a few other cars, one likely belonging to Ross, just steps from the cabin.
There's a minor fork in the road where we parked, the lower leading to the cabin and the upper directly to the flagged trail. Unaware of this, we decided to check out the cabin first before continuing beyond it toward a raging creek flowing down from above. We turned up alongside the creek and bushwhacked a short distance to intersect the trail as it climbed steeply through forest. Following the edge of a large ravine over loose volcanic gravel and pumice, we soon popped out above treeline and entered a beautiful meadow with views to infinity. Proceeding northward, we gained a broad saddle with several lakes and flat gravelly spots suitable for camp. We stopped to set up our tents for the night before embarking on a late-afternoon hike to nearby Tuber Hill and Glacier View Peak. An easy hike up talus led to the rounded summit of Tuber Hill before continuing on to the main course-Glacier View. As the name suggests, there's an outstanding view of the mighty Bridge Glacier from the summit, one of the largest lobes emanating from the Lillooet Icefield directly west of us. Plenty of other glaciers were on display as well, along with a good look toward Griswold Pass, where we'd be headed next.
We enjoyed a leisurely start the next morning, traversing slightly rightward from our camp saddle into Nichols Creek Valley. Hoping to avoid losing more elevation than necessary, we stayed well left of the main creek drainage by contouring along the west side of the valley over mostly heather, steering clear of the large talus slopes above. We were forced to skirt around the toe of at least one sizable talus wash before resuming our otherwise pleasant trek toward Griswold Pass, where we expected to rendezvous with the rest of our party. Upon reaching a pass-like area dotted with numerous lakes, with a large lateral moraine blocking our view northward, we decided to stop and set up our tents for the night. We were in the general area of the pass and figured there was nothing but talus ahead, so we might as well stop where pitching tents was easy. No sign of Wes and company, and not really in the mood to go searching at that point either.
With our tents set up along the shore of yet another beautiful alpine lake, we turned our attention to the next objective. Immediately to the west, some 1,700 feet directly above camp, stood Baryon Peak. Recharged after a bite to eat and a short break, Gina and I angled upward below the east face, aiming for the edge of a moraine we hoped would deliver us near the peak's North Ridge for the final ascent. As we gained elevation, it quickly became apparent that this moraine was unlike anything I'd seen before-part lateral moraine, part terminal moraine-forming a large circular enclosure with additional lakes inside and, more importantly, wide sandy flats where a couple of tents glistened in the bright sunlight. I let out a loud "cooee," and the response confirmed it was indeed Wes and party camped below. With that settled, it was back to the task at hand, weaving around wide ledges and blocks to gain the ridge crest. Turning left, we scrambled over blocky terrain along a gradually sharpening ridge to finally reach the summit. Holy mole-what a view! Unknown peaks and glaciers (to me) stretched in all directions, save for the familiar subatomics nearby. Absolutely stunning.
Call it ego, poor judgement, or plain stupidity, but I made a bad call convincing Gina that descending the West Face directly from the summit would be faster and more pleasant than retracing our ascent. The upper half was fine enough-typical talus travel-but unseen from above were cliffs that had to be negotiated, followed by runnelled walls of hardened mud guarding the final 100 feet above the ice. Descending this absolutely sucked, and it was with great relief that we finally reached the glacier proper. That discomfort quickly faded as we descended the glacier, weaving around meltwater channels and peering with wonder into the countless moulins scattered across its surface. We stepped off the glacier near its snout and hiked over glacial till and talus toward where we'd seen the tents earlier. The tents were there, but no humans-likely out bagging a peak somewhere. Onward to our camp we went, annoyingly a good kilometre as the crow flies from where the others were camped. Another blissful night under the stars followed, with eager anticipation for whatever adventures the next day would bring.
We were moving shortly after sunrise, returning to the others' camp before continuing as a group. Retracing our steps from the previous afternoon, we gained the toe of the glacier and made an ascending traverse across the ice to a saddle between Meson Peak and Muon Mountain. Topographic maps show this saddle as fully glaciated, essentially connecting two main lobes of the glacier into one. Unfortunately, this is no longer the case, as we soon left the ice behind and kicked up loose glacial till and talus onto the crest. An easy scramble northward brought us to our first peak of the day-Meson. We lingered to enjoy the stellar views before dropping back to the saddle and continuing toward Muon. From there, we followed the edge of the western glacier lobe toward the peak ahead, contouring left to avoid a steep buttress-like feature before turning upward for more easy scrambling to the summit. Nearly on the edge of the Lillooet Icefield now, the views only improved.
After feasting our eyes on the spectacle around us, we moved on, descending steeply down the South Ridge to the head of the main glacier, with a deep turquoise glacial lake providing a dramatic backdrop. Back on the ice, we contoured along the lake's edge, stopping frequently for photos and otherwise entranced by the otherworldly scenery that was entirely ours. We ascended mostly low-angled ice to a prominent saddle between Muon and Lepton, then finished via the Southwest Ridge to gain Lepton's summit. Still no end to the views, and now finally able to peer over the divide toward Nichols Creek Valley and the dry peaks straddling the South Chilcotin Provincial Park boundary beyond. After a long break on top, we continued our loop by descending Lepton's North Ridge toward the saddle between it and Baryon. With the others still needing to finish Baryon, Gina and I bid our comrades adieu and followed an aesthetic snow arete down onto the glacier, which we followed back to the snout as we had the previous day.
We crawled back into camp after about 9.5 hours on the move, tired but thoroughly satisfied with what we'd accomplished-not just that day, but the days prior as well. We briefly considered relocating camp to share the final evening with the rest of the party, but it felt like too much work. Besides, Wes paid us a visit and shared the last of his hooch before turning in for the night. We regrouped at our camp the following morning and headed out together at a leisurely 9 a.m., reaching the trailhead about 3.5 hours later. In the end, Griswold Pass delivered exactly what I'd hoped for and then some: vast, remote terrain, engaging scrambles, and a sense of space that's becoming increasingly rare. The Subatomic Peaks proved to be an ideal introduction to the area, offering varied routes, satisfying glacier travel, and nonstop views in every direction. While there are plenty of objectives left unfinished-Griswold Peak among them-that only adds to the appeal. This is the kind of place that stays with you long after the dust has settled and the packs are unpacked, and one I know I'll be drawn back to again.
Made the most of a marginal weather day in late August rambling about a corner of the North Cascades I affectionately refer to as "Bakerland". As my informal name suggests, this is the area around Mount Baker and Mount Shuksan including the peaks and tributary valleys immediately north of Nooksack River Valley. Served by Highway 542, the lifeblood of Mount Baker Ski Area and which literally dead ends in the aptly named Artist Point parking lot just beyond, this zone has been my go-to for year-round outdoor adventures for ages. Why? Because the scenery is stunning, among the finest in the Washington Cascades with peaks, glaciers and deep river valleys in all directions, the ski touring is superb, wilderness access couldn't get any better and as of circa 2017 it's practically in my back yard!
For this latest installment in said back yard, I decided on an objective that caught my eye several years ago from the lookout on nearby Winchester Mountain - Goat Mountain. The peak is comprised of two main summits: the lower West Peak being served by a maintained trail starting from NF 32. My plan was for a twofer by taking this trail up and over West, then down to the saddle between it and the main peak and finishing via the West Ridge to the true summit. I'd then return via a steep cross-country traverse across heather and grass on the south side of the peak to intersect the trail where it ascends the South Spur of West somewhere above treeline. This was all fine and dandy despite the approximately 5000 ft of gain and 10 kilometers round-trip to do so, but what I didn't consider in my plan was the earlier than predicted arrival of rain.
With an 8 am start, I raced up the trail and out of the forest only to see ominous dark clouds advancing from the northwest. Hmm...best to hurry along! Onwards up the South Spur for a bit before traversing the southwest-facing slopes and then along the final summit ridge with just a smidge of scrambling at the end to reach the top. A cold wind was blowing with the cloud ceiling already dropping on the higher peaks. Views still excellent and all-the-more dramatic thanks to the layered bands of atmospheric waves forming around me - north to the Border Peaks and Larrabee, south towards in-your-face Sefrit and Shuksan with Baker just beyond lording over the Nooksack River Valley, northeast towards the BC Cascades with Slesse, Rexford and company, and finally a marvelous view looking up Ruth Creek Valley with the serrated spires of the Picket Range still bathed in sunshine far to the east! And then it started to rain.
Hunkered down for a few minutes thinking perhaps it was just a passing shower, but no such luck. Abandoned my designs on the main summit, mainly because I don't much care for the slip 'n slide of wet, steep heather, and headed back to the trailhead with my tail between my legs. Back by 2 pm, and naturally the rain had stopped by then. With a few hours to burn, I drove on up to Artist Point for a short hike to Table Mountain. Previously been up it, but that was in the winter many moons ago. The dusk descent from the summit directly to Bagley Lakes marked the culmination of a ripper day shredding laps out by Coleman Pinnacle! Alas, there'd be no shredding this time, just the untimely return of rain which shooed me off the summit for the second time that day. Back to the trailhead, whereupon surprise! it ceased raining again. And so over to Huntoon Point I go for no other reason that it being a named summit not 5-minutes from the parking lot. Got to the top, at which point yup, you guessed it, the rain returned. Back to the parking lot one final time and having run out of day and silly peaks to tag and especially my patience with the unpredictable weather, I did what I should have done hours ago and drove home!
Mount David is the highest mountain on the famed Poet's Ridge in Glacier Peak Wilderness. From Longfellow Mountain to the west, up and over Whittier Peak, Mount Jonathon and culminating with David on the east end, this ~6.2-kilometer-long ridge forms the divide between the Indian Creek Valley to the north and Cougar Creek Valley to the south. It stands directly south of Glacier Peak and the Dakobed Range, for me one of the scenic climaxes of the Washington Cascades. A fire lookout once graced the craggy summit where now just the outhouse "grotto" remains. A maintained trail starting from the White River Trailhead leads for some 5,800 feet over about 11 kilometers directly to the top and features a nice hike along a raging river, waterfalls, breathtaking ridge walking and of course outstanding 360-degree summit views with Glacier peak crowing it all! With all that in mind including fond memories of past trips in the area - Clark Mountain (x2) and the Dakobed Traverse - I set my sights on this as my next mini-escapade south of the 49th!
Drove up the afternoon prior, stopping to check out Deception Fallsdfallsdfallsdfalls
along the way as doing so has somehow eluded me all these years, before pulling into one of the campgrounds situated along the White River for the night. The sky was tinged with a distinctive orange hue, obviously thanks to forest fires burning somewhere nearby. This was punctuated by the occasional clap of thunder overhead and served as a reminder that the forecast for the next several days was for afternoon thunderstorms. Raised the camper pop-top and turned in early hoping to get a jump on whatever weather instabilities were in the offing. Completed the short drive to the trailhead the following morning and set out across the footbridge spanning White River before turning left on the Mount David Trail. South along the river for ~1.5 kilometers before turning up for a steep grind to reach a low point on David's long SE Ridge. Tight switchbacks towards the top really got the blood pumping with trees beginning to thin and allowing for nice views overlooking White River Valley and peaks beyond.
The trail now continues along and just below the crest, following the path of least resistance by weaving right or left around the occasional crag otherwise blocking the way. Higher up, the trail makes a rising traverse into a large talus basin right of the crest before turning back up to regain the ridge. Repeated this pattern once more before completing the final bit now along the south and west sides of the peak to finally reach the summit. As expected, haze and smoke obscured the view on this day, as did the clouds which were beginning to accumulate on the neighboring mountaintops. Nonetheless, still able to clearly make out the entirety of Poet's Ridge to Whittier looking west with a blanket of marine clouds obscuring the lowlands beyond. Also, Glacier Peak, Tenpeak Mountain and the rest of the Dakobed Range showing up nicely to the north, and then finally a great albeit hazy view overlooking the SE Ridge with Lake Wenatchee peeking in the distance.
Spent about 35 minutes on top; located and briefly considered utilizing the "facilities" up there but ultimately decided against it - best to wait for the "can" down at the trailhead. Headed back the way I came, sans thunder or lightning or rain thankfully, detouring to see the White River Falls on the drive home - worth a look-see if you haven't yet! All-in-all, a very worthwhile and satisfying outing out and about in my old stomping grounds!
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