chanterelles and kerouac
DESCRIPTION
Exploring the Wilder (and Weirder) Sides of Washington's Ross Lake. Story and Photos by Freya FennwoodTRANSCRIPT
STORY AND PHOTOS BY FREYA FENNWOOD
EXPLORING THE FINER (AND WEIRDER) SIDES OF
WASHINGTON’S ROSS LAKE
CHANTERELLES AND KEROUAC
W ind is whipping
through the big-leaf
maples, sprinkling yellow
leaves and bits of green
sphagnum moss into the
air. It drops like green-gold
snow outside my window
as we zip up Washington
State Route 20 toward
Ross Lake.
The roof of my Subaru
hums annoyingly where
a canoe and kayak are
strapped down. Nolan Leh
leans out the passenger
window to check. “Just
a strap snapping in the
wind,” he reports. I crank
up the volume on the ra-
dio. A rhythmic bass beat
vibrates the car and I feel a
rush of excitement. Alana
seems to feel it too. In the
rearview mirror I can see
her nodding her head to
the beat. This week could
be our last beautiful win-
dow of Pacific Northwest
summer and we are all
eager to get on the water.
Ross Lake isn’t exactly a
lake. It’s actually one of
those reservoirs made by
those damn dams, one of
three reservoirs holding
hostage the headwaters
of the Skagit River. Dia-
blo Dam, which sits below
Ross and the middle dam
on the river, was once the
world’s tallest dam at 389
feet. The dams generate
power and hold drinking
water for the sprawling
populace of Seattle, less
than 150 miles down-
stream.
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The view from Thunder Point hill. Follow the trail up from the camp to
gain a little perspective on Diablo Lake and its rocky islets straight
from the South Pacific.
A nd even though Ross
Lake isn’t really a
lake, it is, I reluctantly
admit, a pretty nice place
to paddle. Our goals for
the trip aren’t grand. We
simply want to explore the
alpine setting, eat good
food, and maybe hike to a
hilltop to take in the view.
Our farthest camp will be
Lightning Creek, 13 miles
up the 22-mile-long lake.
We have two canoes, one
kayak, a cooler full of
Asian pears, and a bottle
of gin. We pull into the
boat launch at Colonial
Creek Campground on
Diablo Lake at 12:30 pm
and start packing the
boats.
Peter and Carson Leh are
in one canoe while Nolan
and Alana are in the other.
I’ve been friends with
Carson and Nolan since
high school. Their father,
Peter, is a lifelong raft
guide and ski guide, who
doesn’t look much older
than his two sons. Their
family is loud, artistic,
outdoorsy, and love good
food. I have been crashing
their family trips for years
now, so when they invited
me to Ross Lake I didn’t
think twice to accept.
Campsite No. 1: Thunder Point, probably my favorite of the trip. Located just a
mile from the road on beautiful Diablo Lake. It is always nice to start a trip off easy
and with plenty of hammock-hanging trees.
Alana is a professional angler in Alaska who enjoys a good nap in a
hammock when the dryland opportunity arises.
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The view from Thunder Point hill. Follow the trail up from the camp
to gain a little perspective on Diablo Lake and its rocky islets
straight from the South Pacific.
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T he weather is also quickly agreeable with the lake somehow
staying windless for the entire trip. We spend warm days in
bathing suits and crisp nights sitting next to the fire, talking with
friends.
So if you ever get the chance to paddle Ross Lake, take it.
For access, you have to either drive in from Hope, B.C. on
a notoriously bad road, or slip your boats into the dazzlingly
turquoise glacier-fed waters of Diablo Lake, then paddle five
miles to the base of Ross Dam, and either carry or shuttle
your boats up a very steep mile-long road stitched up with
switchbacks. We opt for the shuttle and are thankful to pay $20
dollars per boat to avoid the portage.
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On Ross Lake, heading toward Pumpkin Mountain.
Father and son, Carson and Peter, checking out
May Creek as it spills into Ross Lake.
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Night Two was spent
at Devils Junction
Campground, nine
miles up Ross Lake.
After a long paddling
day, Peter sets up
his tent on the end of
the dock for a night
rocked to sleep by the
lapping lake.
Devils Creek is a
must-make detour.
Though reservoir
flooded this high-
walled tributary (about
a quarter-mile up the
lake), it feels like pad-
dling through a Utah
slot canyon covered in
moss and Northwest
foliage.
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Desolation Peak lookout, built in 1932 and made famous by Jack
Kerouac, who spent 63 days during the summer of 1956 as a fire
lookout here. He wrote about his experiences in the books Lonesome
Traveler, The Dharma Bums and Desolation Angels.
Nolan holds out a
handful of mountain
huckleberries before
he downs them, one
of many fistfuls eaten
on our hike up Desola-
tion Peak.
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The summit of
Desolation Peak offers
a view at 8,071-foot
Hozomeen Peak.
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Nick Seifer holds out
a beautiful rainbow
trout caught in Ross
Lake, and then grilled
over the campfire and
served with white
chanterelles for a fall
feast. Ross Lake is
a great destination
for anglers. Native
rainbows and the
protected bull trout
are abundant in the
cold, clear waters.
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A rare glassy, calm day on Ross Lake with the fjord-like landscape mirrored in the
uncharacteristically calm waters. Most paddlers end up battling afternoon wind currents
coming off the mountains and funneling down the lake.
White chanterelles
found on the trail
to Desolation Peak,
wrapped in the
sleeves of our shirts: a
treat only found in late
summer and fall.
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O n the last day
of the trip, I
paddle my boat
toward the car as
slowly as humanly
possible. I’m
having fun and I
don’t want to go
back to civilization
with its emails and
to-do lists and
traffic.
I look over at
Peter. He’s
showing the same
feelings.
“What do you
think about
loading up
the kayaks,
surfboards and
playboats and
heading to the
coast in a few
weeks?,” he says.
“I’ve got a new
trailer that needs
to have its first
adventure.”
I smile. “Yes, lets
do it! Coastal surf-
extravaganza!”
I can’t help but
respond as I
paddle toward the
car, plotting the
next Leh-family
adventure that I’ll
be crashing.