I chatted with cashier while she smoked outside the gas station. She was saying that she thought it was weird that guys would wait in line for the bathroom at the convenience store when they could just go pee outside. It was inconsiderate to the ladies since they had to wait longer.
Sophie and Patrick got in the car and we continued our journey to Cutthroat Lake. We were planning to spend the night up near Cutthroat Pass — or at least close to it. Sophie wanted to camp down by the lake, but I wanted to camp up on the ridge. I’ve always got this bit of a conflict there: I like doing something a little more strenuous, but Sophie grounds it and makes sure it’s a chill, rejuvenating experience. I’m always thankful once we’re out there — just enjoying nature, not trying to “accomplish” anything, but simply connect with it and soak in that incredible energy.
So this weekend we were off to Cutthroat Lake to see how it was. If we found camping near the lake, great. If not, we’d head higher. It’s getting toward the end of the season — colder, wetter — but luckily the forecast said just a bit of precipitation. I didn’t really look into it myself; I just trusted what Sophie and Patrick said.
We met up around 7:30 at the Northgate parking lot, loaded up, and hit the road toward Arlington. That’s where we stopped at the Shell station — where I talked with the cashier outside — and then continued on to the Cutthroat Lake trailhead.
The hike started off beautifully: overcast but calm, everyone in good spirits. When we got to the lake, though, it was clear it sat in an alpine bowl — gorgeous, but no real flat spots for camping. You’re supposed to camp a quarter mile from the lake, but a quarter mile away meant halfway up the steep slope toward the ridge. So we started climbing.
As we left the lake, we realized we needed to think about water. The trail description said there wasn’t any after the lake. We saw one stream crossing and figured we’d have more chances above, so we didn’t fill up right away. A hiker coming down told us there were a few more crossings, though the others didn’t flow as strong as that first one. Patrick and I decided to risk it and keep going so we wouldn’t have to haul water uphill.
As we climbed, more hikers came down — cold, tired, saying good luck and warning that it was going to snow that night. Some mentioned they hadn’t found much water further up. By then, we were already pretty high, close to where another couple we’d met earlier that day had said there were good campsites — a flat spot halfway to the ridge with larches on one side of the trail and camping on the other.
Sure enough, the trail eventually flattened, and to the right opened this incredible meadow — scattered trees, blueberries to snack on, and amazing views of the valley with Cutthroat Lake far below. It felt like we’d stumbled into a hidden spot. We dropped our packs and claimed it.
Once we’d solved the campsite problem, we went to find water. About a hundred yards off-trail we found a little stream — perfect. Filled up, got back to camp, and everything felt dialed in.
After I switched into my night clothes, Sophie came over and asked if we were still going to hike up to the ridge. Heck yeah. So I threw on my rain pants and boots, and we headed up. Along the way, Patrick shared some great news — he’s basically engaged to his girlfriend, Haley. I met him not long after they started dating, so that was really cool to hear.
When we reached the ridge, it really started to snow — big, soft flakes drifting through the larches. It was cold, but absolutely beautiful. We soaked it in for a while, then headed back down to camp.
We cooked dinner in the trees, chatting about random stuff — first crushes, celebrity crushes, what we’d study if we went back to college, what we’d do if we never had to sleep. Just fun camp talk while the snow came down harder.
That night it snowed about four more inches, and when we woke up, it was a full-on winter wonderland. Everything was dusted white. We made our morning drinks — I had tea, Sophie had coffee from her cool French press/AeroPress combo — packed up, and started the hike out. It snowed the whole way, probably six inches total on the ground by the time we reached the car.
We drove back to Seattle and made it just in time to catch the start of the Mariners game. Go Mariners.
Sophie and Patrick got in the car and we continued our journey to Cutthroat Lake. We were planning to spend the night up near Cutthroat Pass — or at least close to it. Sophie wanted to camp down by the lake, but I wanted to camp up on the ridge. I’ve always got this bit of a conflict there: I like doing something a little more strenuous, but Sophie grounds it and makes sure it’s a chill, rejuvenating experience. I’m always thankful once we’re out there — just enjoying nature, not trying to “accomplish” anything, but simply connect with it and soak in that incredible energy.
So this weekend we were off to Cutthroat Lake to see how it was. If we found camping near the lake, great. If not, we’d head higher. It’s getting toward the end of the season — colder, wetter — but luckily the forecast said just a bit of precipitation. I didn’t really look into it myself; I just trusted what Sophie and Patrick said.
We met up around 7:30 at the Northgate parking lot, loaded up, and hit the road toward Arlington. That’s where we stopped at the Shell station — where I talked with the cashier outside — and then continued on to the Cutthroat Lake trailhead.
The hike started off beautifully: overcast but calm, everyone in good spirits. When we got to the lake, though, it was clear it sat in an alpine bowl — gorgeous, but no real flat spots for camping. You’re supposed to camp a quarter mile from the lake, but a quarter mile away meant halfway up the steep slope toward the ridge. So we started climbing.
As we left the lake, we realized we needed to think about water. The trail description said there wasn’t any after the lake. We saw one stream crossing and figured we’d have more chances above, so we didn’t fill up right away. A hiker coming down told us there were a few more crossings, though the others didn’t flow as strong as that first one. Patrick and I decided to risk it and keep going so we wouldn’t have to haul water uphill.
As we climbed, more hikers came down — cold, tired, saying good luck and warning that it was going to snow that night. Some mentioned they hadn’t found much water further up. By then, we were already pretty high, close to where another couple we’d met earlier that day had said there were good campsites — a flat spot halfway to the ridge with larches on one side of the trail and camping on the other.
Sure enough, the trail eventually flattened, and to the right opened this incredible meadow — scattered trees, blueberries to snack on, and amazing views of the valley with Cutthroat Lake far below. It felt like we’d stumbled into a hidden spot. We dropped our packs and claimed it.
Once we’d solved the campsite problem, we went to find water. About a hundred yards off-trail we found a little stream — perfect. Filled up, got back to camp, and everything felt dialed in.
After I switched into my night clothes, Sophie came over and asked if we were still going to hike up to the ridge. Heck yeah. So I threw on my rain pants and boots, and we headed up. Along the way, Patrick shared some great news — he’s basically engaged to his girlfriend, Haley. I met him not long after they started dating, so that was really cool to hear.
When we reached the ridge, it really started to snow — big, soft flakes drifting through the larches. It was cold, but absolutely beautiful. We soaked it in for a while, then headed back down to camp.
We cooked dinner in the trees, chatting about random stuff — first crushes, celebrity crushes, what we’d study if we went back to college, what we’d do if we never had to sleep. Just fun camp talk while the snow came down harder.
That night it snowed about four more inches, and when we woke up, it was a full-on winter wonderland. Everything was dusted white. We made our morning drinks — I had tea, Sophie had coffee from her cool French press/AeroPress combo — packed up, and started the hike out. It snowed the whole way, probably six inches total on the ground by the time we reached the car.
We drove back to Seattle and made it just in time to catch the start of the Mariners game. Go Mariners.
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