When summer temperatures in Seattle soar into the 70’s, there is nothing else to do to escape the insufferable heat but flee 90 minutes north to Mt. Baker mountain in search of snow. Hopping on that bandwagon, we threw our tenting gear into Boss and left Roxie stowed in her gated Jim Creek Naval Radio Station community. With a drive out I-5, we picked up SR-542, the long and winding road that dead-ends in Heather Meadows and the trailheads for the Mt. Baker and Mt. Shuksan wilderness. Both peaks are more than 10,000 feet high and snow covered year round.
With no reservations, our best bet was to find a boondocking spot off of a forest road in the region. The National Forest ranger office in Sedro-Wolley was COVID-closed so we pressed our noses up against the window, scoured the message boards outside, and took pictures of the posted maps to gain knowledge of the wilderness knowing that we would be in familiar Verizon “No Service” territory once we left. We did glean that one of two rustic campgrounds had opened the day prior. It was a reservation-only but maybe we’d get lucky.
SR-542 runs east from Bellingham, the big town at the top of the state just shy of the Canadian border. The tiny mile marker 34 town of Glacier is the last outpost of civilization as you head into big ski country. We provisioned with a cup of organic brew and magic cookie bar at the local Wake and Bake. Masked ski bums and river runners ordered skinny espressos and compared wilderness notes while we sunk into the “peace and harmony” vibe, basking in the sunny but cool mountain air. It was hard to leave.
Like most National Forest paved motor trails, SR-542 is an incredibly picturesque route that snakes along the Nooksack River before climbing steeply into the mountains. Familiar with the routine, Boss switchbacked at 15 mph around tight turns keeping wheels on gravel until reaching the parking lot base camp.
The road higher was closed, basically because it was under 8 feet of snow. Having lunch surrounded by alpine backdrop was starting to become a thing. The air was not exactly warm, but with the sun shinning it was comfortable with a fleece and a hat. We asked the maitre’d for a table out of the snow and in the sun, which he was able to find in short order that had a bonus view of an ice blue glacier in the background. The setting was a perfect match for Chef Yeti’s gourmet salad.
The snow packed pass was another 3 miles up the road. We had some inkling that we were not well prepared for the hike in our Air Jordans and Keen water shoes when the other folks leaving for the hike had cross country ski’s strapped to their packs. Note to selves, add hiking shoes to the go-camping checklist. Nevertheless, we switchbacked up to a commanding view of the area before the snow got far too deep and slippery for our ill-cladded feet to continue. The destination was called “Artist’s Point” which is such a dramatic name that we pushed further than we had a good sense to. Going down was far scarier than going up. 20somethings booted uphill and skied or snowboarded down in crowd-pleasing fashion.
While coming up short of Artist’s Point, we did get to play in the snow and hike the alpine wilderness. As the afternoon got late, the wet weather rolled in and we were forced off the mountain to find lodging for the night. On the return we stopped at Nooksack Falls, yet another water source providing power to Washington communities, this one to Puget Sound.
Lady luck was with us as we nabbed the last available level tent pad and fire ring at Douglas Fir campground, saving us from boondocking off a fire road. The majestic trees towered overhead and the Horseshoe River ran wild beside camp. The rain fell all night as we Macgyvered shelter for dinner by the fire. The REI Grand Hut performed well, just as it had for our Montana guests throughout the rainy night.
Breaking camp in the rain is never that much fun, but the coffee, biscotti, and oatmeal helped. When we had soaked up all of the rain forest vibe that we desired, we backtracked on SR-542 to the pacific coast, touring Bellingham, Chuckanut Drive, Larrabee and Deception Pass State Parks along the way.
As an old A-6 Intruder base, Eric was interested in doing a drive-by of NAS Whidbey Island to see what his old plane was up to. The base had new tenants, but a few reminders of the days of the Intruder remained. The trip down memory lane was short but sweet. The Pacific coastline was impressive as locals fled the city to take in the beauty. A sunny Sunday afternoon in July (one of the few sunny days in the Pacific northwest we hear) was probably the wrong time to explore.
It was also the wrong time to checkout the long lined locals-only, best-of spot for seafood. The Shrimp Shack had quite the locals scene going with skater dudes, afternoon daters and street racers filling the parking lot. We placed our order and got number 63 which coincidentally was also the wait in minutes to get your food. It took two hours to order and eat a fish and chips. Kind-of worth it if you’ve got nowhere else you have to be.
With the uncertainty of finding camping these days we decided to tackle the rest of Washington with a park and ride strategy. It seemed to have worked here. We pulled into Jim Creek then drove Boss and the camping gear 60 miles north to Mt Baker, spent two days and a night in the National Forest then trucked like tourists in the more popular areas around the San Juan Islands. We’re headed to a base in the Seattle-Tacoma area next and will use this same method to see Mt Ranier and Olympic National Parks. One lesson learned, if you ever need your 29 feet rolling condo to feel more luxurious and roomy, spend two rainy days in a tent.
