In the traditional land of the Yakima People, there is a dense old growth forest known today as the Norse Peak Wilderness. Situated deep within the Mt. Baker-Snoqualmie National Forest in the northeast foothills of Tahoma, Greenwater Lakes Trail begins. Accompanied by none other than my own adventurous mother, who was embarking on her first backcountry backpacking trip, we set down the path, immediately immersed in the sweet scent of the Douglas Fir trees and the breathtaking beauty of the forest. Together, we embraced the challenges and joys that awaited us, forging an unbreakable bond amidst the wilderness.

The trail seems like a gateway into an enchanted forest that immediately calls to memory fairytales of your childhood. Enticing and thrilling at the same time, we made our way through the rugged trail to reconnect with nature. With each step further into the wilderness, our journey brought us new pristine vistas and new challenges. We crossed a total of seven streams and rivers on foot, and 13 bridges while the crystal-clear water rushed beneath us. While some might consider some of these bridges to be impassible because of their damage, mom and I journeyed onward with Greenwater Lakes set in mind. With each crossing, we were reminded of the untamed power of nature. Some of the bridges that once spanned these waterways had fallen into disrepair, their wooden boards worn and and their railings broken and dangling in the water below.

One particular bridge, crushed by a fallen Douglas fir tree, served as a stark reminder of the ever-changing landscape and the raw forces that shape it. We had to hug it in order to get across to our destination. A forceful way to be thrown into the connection with nature we were seeking. After that bridge, the path became less defined and harder to navigate. I wouldn’t recommend doing it without ample time for daylight. The challenges we encountered along the trail taught us valuable lessons of adaptability and resilience. With careful steps and unwavering trust in our abilities, we overcame each obstacle that came our way. The sense of accomplishment that washed over us as we reached the our camp was unparalleled.

After we found the most pristine little corner of the larger of the two Greenwater Lakes, we set up our tents and realized that we still had a little adventure left in us. We decided to continue exploring the trail system as it continues on beyond Greenwater Lakes to Lost Lake and Echo Lake. The forest whispered enchanting tales in the rustling of the leaves, teasing us to continue along the river to the hidden alpine lakes. However, soon enough, we came to a screeching halt, both in conversation and in movement, when we heard a distinctive snort echoing from the canopy. Our hearts both stopped in the sudden realization that we were in the company of a bear… that we couldn’t see. Respecting the boundaries of wildlife, and the sanctity of our own lives, we continued our conversation a little louder as we wide-eyed continued down the trail, back to back with bear spray drawn, ready for anything. We cautiously continued like this for about half a mile before we felt safe enough to retreat to the safety of our camp with a sense of exhilaration and adventure coursing in our veins. Luckily, I had my bear vault with me as well in an abundance of what turned out to be necessary caution.

As the sun began to fall behind the peaks on the horizon, casting a golden glow on the rugged tree-lined landscape, mom and I found ourselves sinking into the tranquility of the wilderness. The adventure of the day had flooded our systems with adrenaline and wonder, and now it was time to sink into the most fun part of camping. With our evening homes set up and hunger calling, we gathered around our makeshift wilderness kitchen to prepare a well-deserved meal, and watched a newly-mothered duck escort her ducklings on a parade of pride for us. I swear I had never seen a duck smile until that night.The crackling sound of the campfire and the aroma of food filled the air, creating an ambiance that felt both soothing and invigorating. As we savored each bite, we shared stories and laughter, connecting with one another and our shared memories.

Following dinner, we continued our evening by the warmth of the fire, engaging in a card game that held special significance for both my mom and my Great Grandmother, who holds a very sacred and special place in both of our hearts. In her honor, we played with joyful nostalgia, cherishing the memories that tied us together.

As the night deepened and the world around us grew hushed and dark, we let the fire die out and retreated to our tents. I ventured out of my tent a few hours later, stirred by a call of nature. The biting cold of the nighttime mountain air sent shivered down my spine and immediately set deep into my bones, but it was the starlit sky that stole my breath away and kept me frozen in my place. Unable to contain my excitement, and perhaps slightly motivated by the idea of blood-pumping warmth, I hurried to my mom's tent, gently waking her so she could share in the spectacle of the cosmos. Together, we marveled at the wonders of the night sky, feeling small yet connected to something grand.

Reluctantly, we bid the stars farewell, quickly scurrying back to the warmth of our respective tents. Under the protective canopy of nature, we drifted into slumber, lulled by the symphony of wilderness sounds, knowing that tomorrow would bring new adventures and cherished moments as we headed home… after a pit-stop at Denny’s.