I think it’s important to seek after something when you travel. Having “holy grails” or “bucket list” items helps keeps travel fresh. Surprisingly, the actual finding of the thing you’re after isn’t the real fun – the joy is in the hunt.
In October there is a brief period of time when the Larch trees turn a brilliant shade of yellow. Larches are unique because they’re one of the few conifers (pine looking trees) to drop their needles. And every year, high country hiking fans are rewarded with a fiery show.
Like mushroom hunters, the people who follow the Larch march every fall are a passionate bunch. This year, I decided to join their ranks.
I wanted to get a quintessential photograph – a yellow Larch tree against a snowy alpine lake.
We set our sights on the mountainous region around Ingalls Lake which was recommended in several online trip reports. The last time we visited, we were on a different mission: to see mountain goats (see earlier post here). That spring, they didn’t disappoint – because as we ate lunch, a scraggly looking fella walked right by us as if he didn’t have a care in the world.
So I was feeling lucky. Unfortunately, this is where our tale goes awry.
I misremembered how far the trailhead was from the nearest town of Cle Elum, and we ended up running low on gas on our way to the trailhead. Mistake #1 was heading into the mountains with a gas tank nearing empty. While we didn’t quite run out of gas, we ended up backtracking once we realized we weren’t going to make it, costing us an hour and a half of precious autumn daylight.
By the time we reached the mountains I was so eager to get going that I blew right by the info sign at the trailhead and failed to make careful notes of the map on the sign. This wound up being mistake #2 because two miles of hiking later we reached a poorly marked junction and (you guessed it) took the wrong path.
Instead of hiking to a beautiful lake, we ended up at the top of Longs Pass, and the Larches we could see were already in the shadows. I was disappointed, but that’s when I realized I was missing the forest for the trees. A panorama of jagged peaks surrounded us, snowfields dotted the landscape and burnt orange underbrush lay in every direction.
But all I could think about was how my poor decisions had cost me “my shot.”
I had to remind myself to slow down and take it all in. I was sitting on a rugged ridge at 6,250 feet on a blue sunny day with a view that most people would kill for. So what if the Larches were hiding in the shade? It was a spectacular hike, we were staring at the massive bulk of Mt. Stuart and we were lucky to be outside.
On our drive out that evening, the dusk was settling over the dirt road, but it wasn’t so dark that we couldn’t see spears of orange every few minutes. In my haste to get hiking that afternoon, I had been so focused on the potholes in the road that I’d overlooked the clumps of Larches that grew to either side of the road, tucked into the cliffs that hemmed in the valley. That was mistake #3.
The next time I’ll know where to look for them. But that’s the beauty of the quest. It’s the journey that’s the real joy. I learned a few lessons along the way, and when I finally get my perfect shot, I’ll appreciate it more because I’ll remember how difficult it was the first time around.
