Like many of my Twin Trek posts, this is a two-parter: this is the travelogue post, with a geology post yet to come. Possibly multiple geology posts.

In February 2023 I kicked into planning mode for a serious sister adventure with Heather. I racked my brain for locations that I had given up on accessing for weekend hikes due to distance or huge crowds and came up with Jade Lake and Robin Lakes in the Alpine Lakes Wilderness. We really wanted to make this trip count – in a bittersweet and exciting way, it was the last footloose Twin Trek one before some major life changes for Heather! Let’s kick this off with some maps for context:

Adventure location relative to Seattle

Day 1 (Orange track- southern section of Deception Trail), Day 2 (Green track east to Tuck Lake), Day 3 (Orange track to Marmot Lake), Day 4 (Blue track to Jade Lake), Day 5 (both orange tracks back to the trailhead)

On Day 1 (a sunny Sunday in July), Heather and I rolled up to the Tucquala Meadows Trailhead north of Lake Cle Elum around noon. We hoisted our heavy packs – weight priorities had been set, including swapping camp chairs for canned wine – and headed north on the Deception Pass trail. We hiked “upstream” against a steady flow of hikers coming down from Tuck and Robin lakes. It was kind of like watching a clown car act – how could all these people possible have fit into one alpine lake area? We stopped at Hyas Lake for a snack break on a white sand beach and then at the dry bed of the Cle Elum river for a longer siesta break on the cobbles before the 1,000 foot climb up to Deception Pass.

It took some poking around, but we finally found a good campsite at a little lake about 1/3 of a mile south on the PCT from the Deception Pass Junction. I had planned a truly gourmet meal including fresh bread, fancy canned mackerel with paprika, and white wine in order to sell Heather on the multi-day camping experience.

Day 2 – Monday dawned slowly due to the grey ceiling of clouds. Heather and I hauled ourselves up the trail towards Tuck Lake, fueled by anxieties about incoming rain. The trail up to Tuck Lake is heavily eroded and degraded by foot traffic. It was obviously a former “goat track” and made for difficult footing with dust and gravel barely clinging to the slope. We stopped at a hard-earned boulder seat to admire Mount Daniel, appreciate all the trail improvements on trails besides this one, and squint speculatively at the layers of clouds rolling in from the west. Several lacey white layers scooted in under the cover of the overlying grey cotton wool clouds. UFO-shaped lenticular clouds assembled in eerie formations over mountain peaks to the south. We reached Tuck Lake as the wind steadily picked up. Tuck Lake has a few camp sites tucked between boulders, a darling island with stunted pine trees, and a very entrepreneurial ground squirrel population. Two babies tumbled across the boulders like fallen leaves at play while their mama shook us down for crumbs. Past Tuck Lake, the trail to Robin Lake becomes a free-for-all across curved, contorted shapes of granite. It’s a fantastic and challenging playground. I would not personally feel up to dragging camping equipment up it. But it’s an addictive climb.

Heather at Tuck Lake

An inukshuk-style trail cairn on the way up to Robin Lake, with Cathedral Rock in the distance.

As we left camp, I told Heather that we would turn around when I saw rain clouds hit the top of Mt. Daniel. I saw the cold grey veil of rain showers cover the snow at the summit while catching my breath halfway up the trail to Robin Lake. Heather and I were disappointed and frustrated – when else would we get up here? But neither of us wanted to meet a lightening bolt on the treeless ridge. Several other backpackers raced up to the lake past us at an impressive pace. I got a pang in my stomach each time the rain briefly let up while we clambered down the path – did I make the right decisions? Did we miss a wonderful time at Robin Lake? My “what-ifs” were somewhat soothed when I later read the Washington Trails Association webpage reports from a few of those backpackers – the storm was a doozy. Heather and I waited it out at our tent back at Deception Pass, reading books and making sympathetic noises at the flock of soaked PCT thru-hikers who joined our camp.

Day 3 – We packed up our camp to hike to Marmot Lake. Our departure was delayed as we begged the coy morning sunshine to dry our gear, even a little bit, pretty please? The day returned to being cloudy after a few teasing sunbeams. We hefted our bags and I introduced Heather to my favorite kind of mountain trail with gentle ups and downs, heather flowers and blueberry bushes among the pine trees. Just where the trail turns north and downhill before the climb to Marmot Lake, we discovered it…. Marmot Heaven.

the hiiillls are aliiiive…. with the yells of marmots….

Waterfalls ran in thin ribbons down the amphitheater of cliff walls here, and changed into gentle streams barely disturbing a broad meadow. Enormous marmots ran through the wildflowers with the gusto of collie dogs at our approach. Sentries screamed like banshees among the blueberry bushes as their friends lolloped to the far side of a pond. Seriously, these were the biggest marmots I had ever seen. I don’t know what’s in the water here.

The hike from Marmot Heaven to Marmot Lake was an exercise in mind over matter that day as the high humidity weighed us down. We took frequent breaks to muster our morale, which worked, because it gave us a chance to appreciate the wildflowers. We arrived at Marmot Lake early in the afternoon to grab a primo campsite, make a batch of electrolyte tab margaritas, and put our feet up. This kind of afternoon is the whole point of backpacking for me. Far from the distractions of the internet and daily life, I can actually read multiple book chapters in a row, journal, and just exist.

The view from our camp at Marmot Lake

Real sunlight crossed the horizon on the fourth day of our trip! We woke up to a cloudless sky, scarfed down oatmeal, and headed up the trail early in the morning to the crown jewel of our trip – Jade Lake. We quickly decided that Marmot Lake had been misnamed. We didn’t see a single marmot there. But the rocky shores were full of pikas!! Their squeaky calls encouraged us up the first part of the trail up to Jade Lake – a slog up a rocky creek bed/avalanche chute combo of mottled red rock. After a sweaty half hour, we emerged on a gentler slope in a magical alpine meadow. This meadow was stocked with a healthy marmot population of all ages from little babies to grizzled hefty adults, all sunbathing on boulders or trundling around taking care of their important marmot chores. We wandered past No-Name lake with no other hikers in site.

At the top of the rockfall!

Almost there….

And then Jade Lake took my breath away. It is even prettier in person than in pictures, because pictures can’t do justice to the size of the landscape. The lake itself is an incredible color of turquoise, colored by the fine glacial sediment milled under the glacier at Dip Top. We had it to ourselves on a Tuesday morning! There are campsites at the northern end of the lake, sheltered by conifers. Footpaths cling to the slope to the west of the campsites, heading to a massive boulder perched at the outlet of the lake. Of course I had to climb to that boulder, where I saw a hawk soar above the water with its white underside tinted an impossible shade of aqua by the reflection of the lake. Then the peace was shattered spectacularly as a navy fighter jet roared through maneuvers in the Necklace Valley. Heather and I set up snacks-and-reading day camp off a path further southeast where rocky steps parallel a stream trickling into the lake. The combination of the stream and the rock steps created a series of infinity pools for beautiful spotted frogs. Following the creek back up to its source, we found a little pool populated by the chunkiest tadpoles with bodies like fat licorice gumdrops. Then we settled in for more more reading, journaling, and leisurely snacking.

Holy smokes! A postcard view

Heather scouts our day “camp” by the stream

Our froggy neighbor

The tadpole nursery

More hikers had made it to the lake by the early afternoon, so we explored further south along Jade Lake to the base of Dip Top Gap. I checked out an intriguing orange rock formation (more on that in a future post) and then we embraced our inner mountain goats and scrambled up the boulder field. We lived our alpine fantasies until, marveling at the light playing on the landscape, we realized that if we were approaching the golden hour of photography it was time to get back to camp. We headed back down the trails reluctantly to the solace of the can of wine that we had left chilling in Marmot Lake.

South end of Jade Lake

Heather is introduced to a foreign concept – snow in July

Heather below Dip Top Gap

On the fifth day, we headed back down the 9 miles to the trailhead with the impatience of two very sore thirty-somethings who know they have a cabin booked in Leavenworth at a resort with a hot tub and spa. The day was sunny and gorgeous, and we did detour to Marmot Heaven on our way down. Those marmots looked even more glorious with their fur gleaming in the sun.

Stay tuned for the geology breakdown!