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tiggymalvern
I've never hiked Lake 22 in the summer. I've hiked it in winter, when it's accessible by snowshoe or with microspikes. I've hiked it in spring, when it's one of the first mountain lakes to melt out. In August, I'd usually be heading up to higher elevations, in the places that are only accessible for three months of the year.
But the reports from those places currently all concur on one thing - the mosquitoes are appalling. "I've been hiking here for thirty years and I've never known it this bad," people say. "No amount of bug spray deters them," they say. "It wasn't too bad on the trail, but when we reached the lake, we only stayed for five minutes and then we fled," they say. I think the cold, wet spring with a late snow melt means all the mosquitoes hatched at once instead of in batches...
Anyway, none of that sounds like fun, so on Monday I went to Lake 22, at a lowly 2400 feet. And it was glorious.
The hike starts through forest, climbing close by Creek 22. Yes, that's the creek that flows out of Lake 22. Imaginative naming, I know.
Still a few wildflowers blooming below the trees.
As the trail winds higher across a scree slope, there are views across the Stillaguamish River valley. Down at river level is where the trail started.
Arriving at Lake 22, with the crazy peaks of Mount Pilchuck above it.
The north-facing slope of Mount Pilchuck, still with snow. There is no sense of the scale here. That is quite a large area of snow, complete with ice caves.
There's a loop trail that runs all around the lake, so you get to see it from every angle. None of them are bad.
Lunch rock, boots off and feet in the water. Yes, it's cold. I go no deeper than the shins in those mountain lakes. (You can see in the photo above, a few people were swimming. Those people are extremely hardy. Or crazy, if you're being less charitable.)
At the northern end of the lake, there's a wetland below the cliff where some flowers still bloomed. Here, you're looking back towards the shallow edge of the cirque, where the trail arrives.
Looking back from the final stretch of trail, where it meanders across the scree slopes.
Lake 22 isn't a place to go when you want to be alone - even when I snowshoe it in winter, there are usually a few other people around. I passed a lot of people on the way up and down, but the loop is long enough that everyone can spread out and not feel the people when you're there.
6.4 miles, 1400 feet of elevation. And thankfully it turns out I'm quite as horribly unfit as I thought last week - some of that was definitely due to last week's heat.
But the reports from those places currently all concur on one thing - the mosquitoes are appalling. "I've been hiking here for thirty years and I've never known it this bad," people say. "No amount of bug spray deters them," they say. "It wasn't too bad on the trail, but when we reached the lake, we only stayed for five minutes and then we fled," they say. I think the cold, wet spring with a late snow melt means all the mosquitoes hatched at once instead of in batches...
Anyway, none of that sounds like fun, so on Monday I went to Lake 22, at a lowly 2400 feet. And it was glorious.
The hike starts through forest, climbing close by Creek 22. Yes, that's the creek that flows out of Lake 22. Imaginative naming, I know.
Still a few wildflowers blooming below the trees.
As the trail winds higher across a scree slope, there are views across the Stillaguamish River valley. Down at river level is where the trail started.
Arriving at Lake 22, with the crazy peaks of Mount Pilchuck above it.
The north-facing slope of Mount Pilchuck, still with snow. There is no sense of the scale here. That is quite a large area of snow, complete with ice caves.
There's a loop trail that runs all around the lake, so you get to see it from every angle. None of them are bad.
Lunch rock, boots off and feet in the water. Yes, it's cold. I go no deeper than the shins in those mountain lakes. (You can see in the photo above, a few people were swimming. Those people are extremely hardy. Or crazy, if you're being less charitable.)
At the northern end of the lake, there's a wetland below the cliff where some flowers still bloomed. Here, you're looking back towards the shallow edge of the cirque, where the trail arrives.
Looking back from the final stretch of trail, where it meanders across the scree slopes.
Lake 22 isn't a place to go when you want to be alone - even when I snowshoe it in winter, there are usually a few other people around. I passed a lot of people on the way up and down, but the loop is long enough that everyone can spread out and not feel the people when you're there.
6.4 miles, 1400 feet of elevation. And thankfully it turns out I'm quite as horribly unfit as I thought last week - some of that was definitely due to last week's heat.
