My buddy called me up late August and told me about this beautiful spot in the Alpine Lakes. Apparently, there was an infinity pool, thousands of feet above two alpine lakes. “You have to see it to believe it” he said. He also told me it was gonna suck getting there. Almost 6000 ft. in elevation gain, a majority of which was gained in less than 4 miles. We wanted to stay for a few days, and I have no self control when it comes to packing camera gear, so my bag ended up around 40+ pounds, which really wasn’t too bad. Emily helped me prep my food in daily bags and we wrote each other notes for each day we’d be gone. This was the longest trip we’d taken apart from each other (4 days) so after some tears, we said our goodbyes.
Myself and 5 other guys hopped in my buddy’s van and drove to a campsite near the trailhead. After a beer or two and some stories shared, I curled up in my sleeping bag and spent my first night in a VW Westfalia. 10/10 cozy.
The next day we hiked to the first lake, which was easy enough. One river crossing, a few hills here and there, but mostly a flat walk over 10 miles of beautiful country. Unfortunately, smoke was settling in the lower valleys due to some fires nearby, but we put it behind us as we gained elevation.
From there, we hiked to a much larger lake. This journey was MUCH more punishing due to the elevation gain. We gained 3000ft. in 3 miles, which is a challenge in itself, let alone the extra weight of all my camera gear. I was also still recovering from a back injury which was preventing me from breaking any speed records. We had a diverse group of guys, one of which was an ultramarathon runner, so needless to say I was in dead last and soon left behind. Luckily, my buddy Steven stayed behind at my pace. I wasn’t sure if he was thoughtfully keeping me company or truly sharing my pain. Regardless, I was glad to have him with me to talk to when I inevitably had to stop every 10 minutes. He also shared his snickers bars with me which was secretly my plan all along. Once we got to the lake, I immediately threw my bag down in delight and jumped into the crystal clear…and freezing cold water. The sun had already set so this may have been a poor choice, but it felt too good on my muscles for me to care. We ate a warm ramen dinner and watched the stars until we fell asleep.
In the morning, after a honeybun and some oatmeal, we broke camp and headed for the 3rd lake. The hike was an easy one, a quick scramble up some exposed granite slabs along a cascading stream and before we knew it, we reached the top. Where most people call it good, we ascended a scree field towards our final destination: The Infinity-Pool Tarn.
I had filtered some lake water the night prior at the second lake when it was too dark to see, but in the morning I had noticed thousands of little red bugs swimming in the same water I had filtered and drank. I only used my UV filter so I very well may have drank a few of the poor guys. Whether this was the cause, I’m uncertain, but I began to have trouble keeping water down. The final leg of the journey required some full on rock climbing, and the state of my stomach made it much harder to stay focused. But the excitement of being so close to our destination kept me moving and after an hour of climbing, we saw our own private alpine pool, glistening in the sun. My stomach bugs subsided at the sight of this incredible feature, carved in the rocks by the very water that inhabits it now. My agenda was unchanged as I swung my bag to the ground and jumped into the water with the heaviest sense of accomplishment. We spent the afternoon lounging by the water and exploring the incredible surrounding country.
I had planned a few shots of the tarn on using an iPhone app called the Photographers Ephemeris, but found it increasingly difficult to photograph. I wanted to capture the entirety of the pool, the lake below, and the scale of the mountains above, and I couldn’t find the angle that included all three. After some trial and error (and an attempt to sit on my friend Edwin’s shoulders), I eventually resorted to extending my tripod to its furthest point and held it as high above my head as I could. The wind was strong and nearly catapulted my camera into the rocky ground a few times, but with a 10 second timer and some slight tweaks in photoshop, I was able to get the angle I had seen in my head and bring my vision to life.
I intended to also photograph Mount Rainier in the distance, however a haze covered the distant mountain due to some wildfires in the area. The rest of the evening was spent lounging and getting my bivy ready for the night. I found a dried-up tarn that made a perfect, flat spot for my sleeping pad and considered just sleeping under the stars. We ate dinner overlooking our own private nirvana and felt blessed to be in such a wild & remote place.
My comfy dirt patch
Dinner and a show
As the light faded, the wind picked up. I hurried back to my bivy and zipped myself in. Though I was zipped tight, the strong gusts of wind managed to wedge plenty of dust clouds through the nooks and crannies of my zipper. Dust swirled into my nose and eyes in waves. The bivy itself whipped in the wind, occasionally slapping my cheek. The night went on for far too long, and I don’t recall getting more than an hour of sleep. But morning finally came. I army crawled halfway out of my cocoon and took in the beautiful alpenglow of the cascades before me. The wind hadn’t stopped, but I felt a renewed sense of purpose and quickly got dressed, grabbed my camera and went on a morning walk.
The view from my dusty bivy
My friend’s tent getting pummeled by the strong winds. He later told me his head was on the far left side and the tent would periodically cover his mouth and try to suffocate him throughout the night.
Another tarn and a great view of Rainier in the distance
I found a granite wall that sheltered me from the persistent wind. It also featured a perfect view of Rainier. As I sat, I realized I was surrounded by huckleberries. Usually, my wife has to remind me to eat breakfast, so I imagined she’d be delighted that (out of sheer dumb luck) I had a decent helping of huckleberries that morning. Once I felt full and content, I decided to go on a hike to the ridge above our camp. Aside from the wind, the alpine was quiet. I found a drainage that, for most of the year, is filled with snow and followed the trickling stream up to large sections of ice that remained from the past winter. Small wildflowers peaked through the clumps of grass surrounding the occasional pool. For some reason, I didn’t think to take any photos of the flowers, but I suppose I’ll say I meant not to and decided they were for my eyes only.
Some friends I met on my morning hike
As soon as I hit the ridge directly above our camp, I looked down and saw my friends emerging from their tents. I let out a yell to let them know I hadn’t been stolen by a bear during the night to which I received a “YEWW” back. The sun had become fairly harsh and I was done taking pictures. I also didn’t necessarily want to go back the way I came, so I began zigzagging down the scree-filled mountain side. I was nearly sprinting at one point and my hiking shoes filled with bits of rock. It wasn’t the most graceful decent, but it definitely got me back to camp much faster. I ate some food and enjoyed camp life until we decided that we’d try to seek shelter from the wind at the lake below. None of us wanted another sleepless night, plus we didn’t mind shortening our hike home by a mile or two.
The rest of the trip was a long slog downhill. I actually did quite well on the hike down. My hiking buddy on the other hand was going at a much slower pace. I stayed behind with him like he’d done for me on the way up. We stopped at an incredible spot on the river where the rocks formations were uniquely smooth and circular, but more importantly the water was cold. We took a lunch break and soaked in the water. My muscles thanked me. The last 3 miles were brutal. My backpack had worn into my hips, rubbing them raw, and my back injury started acting up. What seemed like hours later, we turned the last corner of many and the Westfalia shined in the summer sun like a luxury resort with wheels. Time for a nap. Thanks for reading!