From the year before last.
After our hike up Dickerman Peak, we finally came to the realization that we hadn’t been to Glacier Peak for twelve years, and somehow that just wasn’t right. It’s a beautiful mountain; the only problem is the long approach. Unless you’re a “moose”, you need a good three days, no matter what. But once every twelve years, a mountain like this is worth three days of our time. So off we went.
The approach was the usual one, and for the night we stopped at our favorite little meadow below Marmot Knoll. Most people continue farther and camp on the moraine, but we prefer the soft grass, and there was plenty of time to get from the marmot meadow to the summit. The meadow is, of course, famous for its thieving marmots, but one has to learn to live with the racketeering.
View of the summit from the meadow.
The summit, a little closer.
Quite a few more people were heading for the summit this time than twelve years ago, and two young women even camped at our favorite meadow. I should mention that they set off for the summit before us and returned considerably later. So they didn’t bother us much.
The marmots, meanwhile, haven’t gone anywhere. I suspect these are the grandchildren of the marmots who ate/stole our trekking poles twelve years ago. Fearing that they had inherited the family tradition of thievery, we took our poles with us this time.
An evening in the meadow.
.
Marmot Knoll itself.
.I should mention that twelve years ago, at the same time of year, this entire moraine was still buried deep under snow, and we reached the summit from the meadow wearing crampons. This time, we had a long hike ahead of us on foot.
More marmots — because of course.
Our cozy little tent.
The morning moraine.
Sleepily trudging uphill.
The summit is coming into view.
Last year’s snowfields have melted down to a few lakes.
A riot of flowers on the pass.
Moving onward.
The summit is close now.
And here we are, on the summit.
And that is not a cloud. It’s smoke from a very serious wildfire, burning right in the area where we had planned to go after Glacier Peak. At that point it became clear that we wouldn’t be going there this year.
Heading back down.
Our marmot meadow is, as it should be, absolutely full of marmots. But some stern preemptive measures left them no chance for robbery or vandalism.
We lounge in the meadow in the setting sun, admiring the marmots, bumblebees, and lupines.
