Our arrival in Stehekin was glorious. It’s a quaint little resort… well, “town” is pushing it. The main building off the dock is a restaurant, marina store, office, info booth complex.
Given the “canyon” character of the lake, there isn’t a lot of horizontal real estate too far from shore. A road follows the lake shore and eventually the river with cabins on either side. We would have loved to spend the morning exploring the town, but our hiking desires didn’t allow it. We landed, rushed around collecting information about trails, made our choices, found out we had less than two hours to be on the shuttle, and began the packing frenzy for our multi-day trip into North Cascades National Park. The park has a shuttle that runs a few times a day up past several trailheads. Our pick was at the end of the 11-mile road to nowhere. (How does a lake town with no roads in or out get vehicles? Tom’s Barge Service!)Dock permits were purchased at the quaint marina store, our food holds in the boat were rummaged through, meals were pieced together, turns packing in the boat cabin were taken, and logistics phone calls were made using my phone card on a courtesy satellite phone (Our last minute lake plans meant we had disappeared without telling anyone). We threw out our thumbs for the shuttle bus, glimpsed the gorgeous Rainbow Falls on the way, and landed at High Bridge by noon!
We made it to the gorgeous Flat Creek camp spot, complete with bear box, by late afternoon after eight to ten trail miles. My new pack performed fantastically and I felt great! We got our base camp set up, cooked dinner, and then tried for a fire in an on-off drizzle. The boys got some good flames for a bit before the rain picked up and beat the fire. Meanwhile, I worked on some correspondence and read my book. Finally we retired to the dry tent, played crazy eights, and then war (which I won!).
I couldn’t wait for our hike the next day. My only sadness about the Arcteryx is that the “brain” (top of the pack) isn’t designed specifically to double as a day pack as many often are. We pulled some buckles off of other parts of my pack and made it work, though. I wrote the company and am expecting a solution to arrive in the mail. So, makeshift pack in tow, we ascended through maple, cedar, and fir forests into high meadows with cottonwoods. I miss Wyoming! Snow on the trail was intermittent, and it was still early spring in the high country. Horseshoe Basin, our ultimate destination, was filled to the brim with snow, which was just as well. After six or seven miles on the trail, we got to admire it among other soaring peaks from the other side of a flooded Basin Creek – gushing and not worth crossing twice in one day.
Nathan: “Jema… [silence] Jema.”
Me: “Huh?”
Nathan: “Could you turn on your headlamp?”
Me: “Huh?”
Nathan: “Could you turn on your headlamp? I think I got electrocuted.”
Me: “Electrocuted?”
[thinking… we’re over twenty miles from the nearest sign of civilization, and 70 more from the nearest power pole. You did NOT get electrocuted.]
Nathan: “Yeah. Can you turn on the light?”
So I twist the light on, hand it to him, and roll over to go back to sleep. After a few minutes of him rummaging around he says, “I think I got bitten.” Of course this perks me up a bit more than the electrocution theory. “Look over here.” I do. There is a mouse poo. Nathan thinks, rather logically now, that he has been bitten by a mouse. If this is the case, there is a 99.9% chance that we are now rooming with a mouse in a very small tent. What choice do we have but to investigate? Yes, the tent door did get left two inches open. We gently and hesitantly move around the what-nots in the tent until, “There it is!!!!!” Of course the mouse freaks out and goes running – all very exciting for the two of us who would prefer not to be run across by a mouse. After ten or fifteen minutes of adrenaline fueled quick thinking, resource calculating, and shouting and jumping around in the tent, I finally trap the mouse in a plastic bag. What a hilarious night!
We had already planned on leaving the next day, but now we wanted to be sure to get the earliest shuttle we could in case Nathan needed to take the ferry down the lake for bite treatment. We rose early, packed up wet camp gear (my least favorite camp chore), and hit the trail. The skies were sunny, but the meadows we crossed soaked our pants. We hustled back to High Bridge and lunched while we waited for the shuttle. And you’ve never seen a woman so excited to see an outhouse! Right before the shuttle arrived, a motley crew poured off the trail, including my favorite character: a shirtless, pot-bellied, former heavy-weight fighter with a bad hip covered in sweat who later hit up Nathan in hopes of acquiring some Mary Jane!
Toby, Nathan and I had become quite the little tribe spending so much time in close quarters. Our joy at being back in civilization, taking hot showers, getting to use the satellite phone, buying fresh chevre from the gardener up the road, and cooking chevre/spinach/scallion crepes in a shelter with an amazing view while drinking wine melted away tension if there was any!
The highlight was getting to spend an indefinite time on the phone with Pat. I sure am missing him, and absence really does make the heart grow fonder. I am so glad he’s coming with me for the rest of the summer!
I christened the V-berth that night since Toby finally joined us on the boat (no convenient hammock set up options presented themselves). It was wonderful being rocked to sleep, and waking to the sun on the hills around the lake. We motored out of Stehekin and down the lake until the wind picked up. After a bathroom break, suddenly the fierce winds were back. We reefed the sail, and tacked almost all the way back. Finally the wind died, we motored up to our take out, put the boat away, and spent another night under the stars in our former camp spot overlooking the river valley. Heaven!
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