The Chelan Lakeshore Trail

On a recent trip to Washington State, we allowed a couple extra days for what we believe is one of the world’s premier backpack trips: the Chelan Lakeshore Trail. You’ll find a complete description of it in our book Hiking from Here to WOW: North Cascades. We hope the following field report will nudge you to pick up a copy.

Last winter left a deep snowpack in the mountain ranges of western North America. Trails that would typically be hikeable by late May remained snowbound this year. Lake Chelan, however, though wedged between lofty mountains, had been snow-free for several weeks prior to our arrival. And while unusually cool, rainy weather continued badgering western states and provinces, the conditions at Lake Chelan were ideal when we arrived: sunshine, blue sky, daytime highs of 25°C (82°F).

So Lake Chelan earns The Opinionated Hikers’ Seal of Approval for early-season availability. Yet there’s another, even more compelling reason to hike here: four-star scenery.

For the two or three days you’ll follow this trail—among stately pines, over exposed rock, past exuberant wildflowers*, in and out of lush drainages—the lake is constantly visible. So are the North Cascades rising abruptly from the far shore. Sometimes you’ll drop to lake level. Occasionally you’ll contour steep cliffs. Often you’ll rise over headlands granting a godly perspective of this 55-mi (88.5-km) long, inland fiord.

We’re continually surprised to discover Lake Chelan is not as well known as it deserves to be. On our way there, we stayed with friends in Kelowna, B.C., who’d never heard of it. After leaving Chelan, we stayed with friends in Seattle who’d never heard of it. “Where’s Lake Chelan?” they asked. It’s on the east side of the North Cascades, off Hwy 97, about 45 minutes north of Wenatchee.

The elevation of Lake Chelan is 1098 ft (335 m), which explains why it’s reliably snow free in early season. The peaks directly above rise to 5000 ft (1524 m). The water is 1486 ft (453 m) deep, plunging 388 ft (118 m) below sea level. Measured from the lake bottom to the height of land, it’s a deeper abyss than the Grand Canyon.

From the town of Chelan, drive to Fields Point Landing, on the lake’s west shore. Leave your vehicle in the spacious, secure (locked nightly) parking lot. Board the Lady of the Lake II, a tour boat that departs daily at 9:45 a.m. Disembark at Prince Creek, on the east shore. From there, follow the trail north 18 mi (29 km) to the hamlet of Stehekin (lodge, campground, store, cafe, bakery). Then catch the Lady at 2 p.m., returning down-lake to Fields Point. The round-trip boat fare is $40 per person.

On day one, we hiked 11.5 mi (18.5 km) to Moore Point. (That distance includes the 0.5 mi / 0.8 km spur down to the campground.) The total elevation gain on this undulating leg is about 1000 ft (305 m). It’s also possible to hike just 8 mi (12.9 km) and camp at Cascade Creek. From Moore Point, on the morning of day two, we hiked 0.5 mi (0.8 km) up to the lakeshore trail, then 7 mi (11.3 km) north to Stehekin.

It’s possible to catch the first boat, which departs Stehekin at noon. But why? We spent the morning doing lazy yoga on the old wharf at Moore Point. We reached Stehekin in time to slowly pick apart a locally baked cinnamon bun big as a frisbee. We caught the Lady at 2 p.m. We were back at Fields Point, loading our packs into our car, shortly after 5 p.m. A few minutes later, we pitched our tent and took hot showers at nearby Chelan State Park.

For more details about the Chelan Lakeshore trail (and other trails up-valley from Stehekin that afford several more days of fruitful exploration), purchase our book Hiking from Here to WOW: North Cascades. You’ll find it at Mountain Equipment Co-op, REI, Indigo/Chapters, Amazon.com, and right here at hikingcamping.com.

*The wildflowers we saw in early June, 2011, included lupine (purple), columbine (orange and yellow), penstemon (lavender), paintbrush (red), and Goat’s beard (yellow).

The following note is from Sara Muth of Seattle, in response to the questions Rick Vigrass of Calgary recently posed regarding trail maintenance in the Canadian Rocky Mountain national parks. We think Sara’s suggestion is an excellent one because, having hiked extensively in the North Cascades of Washington to complete our guidebook on that range, we’re familiar with the invaluable contribution of the Washington Trails Association. Here’s what Sara has to say:

Hi, I ran across your blog while doing some planning for a vacation in the Canadian Rockies this summer. I couldn’t help responding to your entry on volunteer trail maintenance. We are avid hikers in the Seattle area and belong to an organization called the Washington Trails Association. It organizes all kinds of volunteer support, maintenance, and advocacy for trails—you can do anything from give a few dollars, to go on a week-long trail maintenance “vacation.” It’s incredibly successful and wierdly popular. Check it out at http://www.wta.org. It might be a model for something in your neck of the woods.

Cheers, Sara

From New York, we drove through Vermont’s rolling hills and pretty forests to the White Mountains of northern New Hampshire. After spending two weeks in the sedate Catskills, we were eager to hike bigger mountains.

We expected the Presidential Range — biggest in New  England — to impress us. We considered hiking up Mt. Washington, highest in the range, until we learned there’s a road to the 6288-ft (1917-m) summit. So we chose Franconia Ridge, which includes the summits of Mounts Lincoln and Lafayette. At 5260 ft (1604 m), Lafayette is the 7th highest peak in New England. The Franconia Ridge loop is 9 mi (14.5 km) long and entails a 4,000-ft (1219-m) ascent/descent but grants a 1.8-mi (3-km) cruise along the alpine ridgecrest. Apparently this is a scenic bargain here in the tree-clad eastern half of the country.

Approaching the trailhead, we drove through a couple “notches” (passes) and were encouraged to see exposed, rock cliffs. “Ah! Real mountains!” we thought.

Midway up the bouldery, aggressively steep trail, the weather turned grim. Though we were swift, we were in full-on winter conditions by the time we surmounted the ridge. We peered north along the crest into a frigid, windy, snowy, whiteout. The region is notorious for these sudden onslaughts. We considered turning back but were sufficiently equipped that proceeding cautiously did not
seem foolishly risky. We stayed hyper alert about avoiding injury and staying on course.

Losing your way on Franconia Ridge would normally be all but impossible, because the route is occasionally cairned and frequently lined with stones. Many of these markers, however, were buried in snowdrifts that sometimes reached our thighs. So we simply followed the crest of the narrow ridge and kept pushing northward. The temperature was -9°C (about 16° F) not counting wind chill. Conditions rapidly deteriorated into a blizzard. We did, however, glimpse our surroundings a couple times when the clouds briefly parted. Forested valleys and gentle, rolling mountains extended in every direction.

By the time we summitted Lafayette, even the intensity of our effort was not keeping us warm, so we were glad to begin the descent. We were even happier to discover the Greenleaf hut, part way down the descent route, was still open. We gratefully stopped there to refuel.

Resuming the loop, the route steepens markedly below the hut, and we encountered long stretches of treacherous ice. Deliberate foot- and pole-work was necessary to prevent a bone-breaking tumble. Very slow and frustrating.

Lessons learned? The stature of a mountain range and the quality of its trails don’t necessarily correspond. Even a “good” trail in the Whites can be rough. The Canadian Rockies are enormous, yet the trails tend to be gentler under foot, often allowing you to stride. Rockies’ trails also ascend more gradually. And to surmount treeline in the Whites you must, on average, endure twice the ascent necessary in the Rockies.

One hike is not a fair sampling, we know. And visibility during our Franconia outing was poor. Still, we concluded it’s not worthwhile for hikers from the West to devote precious hiking time in the East. A severe shortage of alpine terrain in the East prevents adequate scenic compensation.

In the Canadian Rockies, the North Cascades, or either Canada’s or America’s Glacier National Park, you can spend hours on end traversing glorious, see-forever, alpine slopes and ridges. Even Franconia Ridge, fringed with krummholz, barely qualifies as “alpine.” If it’s constant views you seek, Utah canyon country is unbeatable. If you want to marvel at trees, the grand, ancient, cathedral forests of the North Cascades easily dwarf the oldest, loveliest eastern groves.

We met several hikers in the the Atlantic states and Maritime provinces who said, “Oh, there are lots of great places to hike here.” Some said, “The Adirondacks are much better than the Catskills.” Others said, “Forget the Adirondacks, hike the Whites.” In Quebec, atop the third and final summit of the sentier l’acropoles, in the hautes gorges de la rivière Malbaie dans Charlevoix, we met a hiker from Montreal who said, “This is very nice, but the best hiking in Quebec is in the Chic Chocs, in Parc de le Gaspesie.”

We listened attentively to all of them. We even took notes. But we were too kind to speak our minds…

“You wouldn’t be saying that if you’d ever hiked out west. One good day in the Rockies, the Cascades, or Utah canyon country and you’ll experience a paradigm shift of tectonic-plate proportions.”

The Whites afforded us a vigorous challenge, a strong feeling of accomplishment, and a sense of wilderness. We enjoyed it. We’re very glad we’ve hiked in the East. If we had to live there, we’d still be happy, mountain freaks. But we’d head west at every opportunity.

If you live in eastern Canada or the U.S., we urge you to come west for a hiking vacation. “Awesome” is a threadbare cliche, but where we live, you’ll be hard pressed to think of a more apt adjective to describe the mountain scenery.