Winter Ski Tour to Hidden Lake Lookout
Trip Dates: 3/14/20-3/15/20
The Hidden Lake lookout in the North Cascades has been on my radar for years. I’ve always wanted to visit in the summer but the road is rugged—far too rugged for our Sedan—and the lookout is popular, which means you would be hard pressed to find any solitude there on summer weekends. However, in the winter the entire landscape transforms the tough summer hike into a grueling ski tour. The crowds diminish and the chances of getting the lookout to yourself increase (or so we hoped).
The winter route also differs from the summer route. First, the road to the trailhead is snow-covered so skiers have to park farther down the road (us farther than most). We parked only one switchback up Forest Road 1540. Skiers follow the road until about 3,000’ and then head up a monster ridge to gain the saddle above Hidden Lake. Our total mileage ended up being just over 6 miles from our car to the lookout with 5,500’ elevation gain.
We parked our car at P, left the road at 3,000’ and began our long hike up the ridge to the lookout
We left our car around 8am. The road was completely void of snow so we strapped our skis to our packs and began booting up the road. After one long road switchback we ran into a skier who was getting ready at his truck. We exchanged greetings, learned his name was Chris, and determined we were heading to the same place so we bid adieu for the time being. One short switchback later and we hit the snow line. We were relieved to drop our packs, put our skis on, and skin up the road with noticeably lighter loads on our back.
After about an hour of skinning on the road we made it to 3,000’. We knew this was around the elevation where we would leave the road and begin skinning along the winter route. As we stood on the road and looked up at the ridge above us, it seemed insurmountable. We eventually mustered the will power to leave the road and head up.
It was slow going, we transitioned from skins to ski crampons to boot packing and back to skins a couple of times along the way. Parts of the ascent were steep and icy in the shadowy forest and others were more gradual and allowed for nice skinning.
We spent the entire morning and early afternoon in the trees. Every so often a gap in the canopy of trees would reveal glimpses of nearby mountains, but they weren’t fully revealed yet. Instead, we were given a brief teaser of what we would see when we reached the lookout and I couldn’t wait for our eventual arrival.
As we were taking a lunch break a group of three passed us, also heading toward the lookout. I tallied the skiers in my head. We were now up to six occupants in the tiny lookout.
Alex nearing the saddle above Hidden Lake
After lunch we finally broke out of the trees and into a frozen, windswept landscape. Clouds enveloped neighboring slopes and snow began to lightly fall. There had been some clouds in the forecast, but we had hoped that it would be clear until we made it to the lookout, but now, still 1,500 vertical feet below the lookout, clouds were descending on us. Thankfully, they didn’t accompany us for long and just as soon as they descended they evaporated again.
View from the saddle as we were leaving on Day 2
Eventually we made it to the saddle. The views from the saddle were astounding. Mt. Baker and Mt. Shuksan stood to our backs and before us the jagged peaks of North Cascades National Park jutted into the sky. Covered in the snow, the peaks were even more pretty than I remembered them being in the summer.
The wind was whipping and cutting through all my layers so we didn’t linger long at the saddle and soon began the final push to the lookout. At 3:30pm, after 7.5 hours of boot-packing and skinning we made it to the lookout. The group of three that passed us at lunch (we learned their names were Lydia, Holly, and John) had already arrived and thankfully dug out the front door which was buried under four feet of snow!
Holly, Lydia, and John making the final push to the lookout
It felt great to rest in the sheltered walls of the lookout. Even though it was still cold, at least the lookout was able to keep the wind at bay. We dropped our packs and began boiling water for an early dinner.
Chris arrived not long after us. Sunset was fast approaching so we thought it would only be the six of us in the lookout. Alex and I headed outside as daytime transitioned into sunset. I didn’t think the scene could get much better than it was when we first arrived at the lookout, but then the mountains transformed from white to golden orange and pink in the warm sunset light.
As we were watching the sunset three more skiers arrived at camp. There were now nine of us at the lookout. Alex took the temperature, it was 9 degrees without accounting for windchill. We didn’t want to force anyone to stay outside in the freezing cold, so we all decided that we would make it work. It felt a little Tetris-like getting all of our sleeping bags into place, but we were all able to fit relatively comfortably.
We all huddled in the lookout and talked as night settled in. Even though it was crowded it was fun to have a group of people to talk and joke with. We talked about our bucket-list hikes and climbs we hope to do in the area (I added a few new objectives to our list based on this conversation), talked about past trips and shared in our joy and awe of the incredible spot we were able to call home for one cold, but beautiful, night.
The lookout under a blanket of stars
Eventually conversation wore down and we all crawled into our sleeping bags for evening. As I lay in the dark and drifted off to sleep, the wind howled outside. I pulled my sleeping bag tighter around my face and felt grateful for the shelter.
We had set alarms for sunrise. Mine went off and I instinctively snoozed it and fell back to sleep. A few minutes later Alex shook me awake, “it’s sunrise”, he whispered. I wanted so badly to watch the sunrise but dreaded leaving my warm sleeping bag. I was content to just continue to sleep but then I caught a glimpse of an orange sky through the frosted window panes. That was all the motivation I needed to get up. I put all my layers on, wrapped myself in my sleeping bag, grabbed my camera, and headed out into the cold.
The sunrise was just as spectacular as the previous evening’s sunset. I always love the way blue hour softens even the most jagged summits and harshest mountain ridges. As the sun rose everyone in the lookout congregated outside to welcome the day together. There were many exclamations about the beauty of the area and how lucky we were to witness such a sunrise. No matter how many sunrises or sunsets I witness in the mountains I am still completely awed by watching the first light of day grace the peaks.
After the sun fully rose we returned to the lookout to make breakfast and pack up. Our respective groups split up to head down from the lookout at our own comfort levels. The day was perfect. Not a single cloud was in the sky—it was the most ideal winter day we could have ever hoped for. Alex and I picked our way down the mountain and made it back to our car in just over two hours. It was a much easier trip down than it was up!
I didn’t realize it at the time, but our trip to the Hidden Lake lookout is likely to be our last trip into the mountains for awhile. The week after we got back it became increasingly clear that driving multiple hours to get to trailheads (and thus putting small communities along the way at risk for Covid-19) and participating in high risk activities like backcountry skiing (where an accident could further strain already strained healthcare facilities) just aren’t worth it. Additionally, in the past two weeks nearly all parks and national forests have closed. We have spent those two weeks in our apartment, only venturing out for groceries and to go on short walks. I’ve been spending quite a bit of time dreaming up new trips that I hope we can go on when we are able to responsibly get outside again.
Stay safe!
