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.