Getting High: Hiking the Chain Lakes Trail

“To those who have struggled with them, the mountains reveal beauties they will not disclose to those who make no effort. That is the reward the mountains give to effort. And it is because they have so much to give and give it so lavishly to those who will wrestle with them that we love the mountains and go back to them again and again.” 

-- Sir Francis Younghusband

Rocky, hazy, smoky, uphill, gravel, rocks, flowers, views, dusty, rocky, up some more, and yet more up, one foot after another, up, always up, big rocks, little stones, climbing, gaining, breathing, drinking, resting, up again, and up, never ending up, climbing up, sweating up, stepping up, rinse and repeat.

And yes, so worth it.

We wanted a mountain hike. Kath fell in love with mountains the first time she saw them in Colorado while growing up near Chicago. I hoped that the Chain Lakes Trail near Mount Baker would be a perfect mountain experience for her.

The weather report said smoky skies in the morning, with temperatures in the mid-60s, but thunderstorms and rain by three. We figured that if we finished our hike before three, we should be good. We got to Heather Meadows at 10:30 and parked at the visitor center (which is closed because of the federal budget cutting unimportant things like our parks and forests).

The trail first drops down to Bagley Lake, and the glow on Kath's face said it all. We were immersed in mountain country; we were among wildflowers; we were among mountain peaks and mountain lakes. This will be good.

As predicted, it was a perfect day for hiking. But also as predicted, Mount Shuksan stood shrouded in haze. The acrid odor of burning trees was a constant reminder of nearby forests in flames.

The first quarter mile down to the lakeshore is a flower-filled stroll around and across smooth ancient rocks. Then the climb begins. The glow on Kath's face became a flush as we switchbacked toward Herman Saddle under the hot, heavy, hazy sun; the rocky trail goes up and up with nowhere to hide from the heat. We stopped often to make sure we were hydrated and still having fun. Fun? I’m not sure that switchbacking straight up for two miles is fun, but the views kept growing, and Herman Saddle was slowly, so slowly, getting closer. We passed dozens of hikers going down the trail, and passed a few going up who were not going as fast as we were. And we were not going fast. It's a climb!

Almost to the top of the saddle, Mt. Shuksan watching over our shoulders

All this effort was forgotten when we finally reached the top—well, not totally forgotten; our tired legs and lungs reminded us. But looking southeast to Mount Shuksan and then southwest to Mount Baker rising high above us made the effort more than worthwhile.

Having achieved the ridge, over a mile high, Kath was glowing once again with the joy of being in the mountains. We ate our lunch in a grove of mountain hemlock and firs. The incredible views spread in both directions.

Mt. Baker in the distance past Iceberg Lake

It was now past noon, and we were only a third of the way, the 3 o’clock deadline looming large as clouds began to appear.

Refreshed, we scrambled down the backside of the ridge, down toward Iceberg Lake. Now we were back into the shadows of the forest where we could hear babbling brooks and see rainbows of life blossoming near the waters.

Do you know that look when someone is truly where they want to be? Someone who is truly enjoying life at this moment? That was the look on Kath's face as we meandered along the trails, with Iceberg Lake to our left and Hayes Lake on our right. A handful of tents dotted the shorelines of both lakes. Still walking westward, we looked back up at Herman Ridge and marveled at how far we had come.

In the heat of this midday, few animals ventured forth; we heard a few chirps from pikas hidden in the rocks, and a chipmunk posed on top of a rock. The woods were mostly quiet, resting, their spring work done, and fall rapidly approaching. Silence ruled the day here, a peace and quiet that was tangible.

Hayes Lake, with tents scattered around

We continued past more stream-fed meadows and flower gardens, an artist’s palette of bright bouquets. But it was now past one; time to keep moving. From Mazama Lake we began to climb once more with Ptarmigan Ridge as our next destination. The trail is another climb through rock fields and avalanche slopes, with views of the mountains all around. Baker looms to the west the entire way as you climb, but barely visible through the smoke.

We kept climbing and climbing, the ridge looking tantalizingly close, but not really. A dozen hikers descended as we climbed up. They had large backpacks, hoping to spend the night among these mile-high cathedrals of lakes, firs, and mountains.

Now we could see baby thunderheads building on the shoulders of Mount Baker and heading our way, so we knew the storm was truly approaching. Reaching Ptarmigan Ridge brought Shuksan back into view, its broad shoulders now bathed in sunlight for a few minutes as the haze dissipated, but ever-growing cloud banks soon shadowed all the peaks.

Shuksan from the junction with Ptarmigan Ridge trail.

The final mile down to Artist Point is nearly level. The trail is lush with meadows and flowers rushing to finish their summer chores. We passed more people heading into the wilds as we were leaving them. Eventually we were surrounded by a bumper crop of cars overflowing the large parking lot. While Kath waited here, I ran down Wild Goose Trail and got our car to pick her up. Together again, we took off our dusty shoes and sweaty clothes, downed some drinks and an apple, and drove back down the road. It was now three o’clock. A minute later, raindrops splattered on our windshield, and soon became a downpour.

As we headed home, I asked Kath if this was the kind of hike she was hoping for. She answered with a very satisfied smile and said, “That was magical.”

Further thoughts:

“Because in the end, you won’t remember the time you spent working in an office or mowing the lawn. Climb that goddamn mountain.”  Jack Kerouac

To get there: Take Highway 542 from Bellingham east to the end of the road. It's just over a 2-hour drive from Anacortes.

Trailhead: It's a loop trail.

You can start at the ski area and follow the Bagley Lakes trail up the valley to where the Chain Lakes trail climbs north. We started at the Heather Meadows Visitor Center. Or you can start at Artist Point and drop down the Wild Goose Trail to the visitor center.

OR

You can go west to start instead. From Artist Point take the Ptarmigan Ridge trail to where it intersects with the Chain Lakes Trail, and go clockwise. Or start at the visitor center, go up Wild Goose to Artist Point, and get the hardest part our of the way while your legs are fresh.

The big question is to go clockwise or counterclockwise. We did the Herman Saddle section first, just because. They are all good.

We passed three couples near Iceberg Lake. One of the men wore a WWU shirt that said “College of Geology”. I asked if they were geologists, and two of them were; one was researching this trail to write a geology guide to this very hike. He said it would be online in a couple of weeks. Check it out! His name is Dave Tucker, and he writes geology guides to the Pacific Northwest.

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