The larches are peaking now (hiked on 10/24).

We started from Bothell around 7:30 and took us 3.5 hours to get to the trail head. The last 10 or so miles were very bumpy dirt road that you may want to drive through in a high-clearing vehicle.

It was pretty chilly when we started. The parking lot was pretty empty that day. If that were happen to you on your first time there, it means you REALLY have to pay attention to the trail fork that leads to the Carne Mountain. It was pretty close to the trail head and if you have crossed two creeks, you've passed it. It is a Y-shaped split with a sign on the left. Missing that fork cost us almost 45 minutes.

The ascend was not as steep as feared. And for a long stretch of time, we traveled in heavily wooded area. The view was good but not yet striking.

However, things changed really fast once we passed 2.5 mile. After passing the exposed slope mentioned in the trail guide, we soon reached the rim of the Carne basin. A step over the rim, we suddenly entered a different realm. The dense and bright gold larch forest around the basin looked like a flaming golden bowl.

There was some snow on the ground, and the trail hardened underneath because of ice. It was not quite 3:30 but the sun was hovering over the ridges. So we hurried to the top, always taking left-most trail at crossroads.

The view at the summit was more than rewarding. I would save my time and leave some space for imagination and motivation.

However, if you are just poking around here and are curious of what it looked like when we were there, I have attached a few pics here.

Incredibly cold day -- when we got to the trailhead around 10:30, I would guess it was in the twenties. But I was determined to see the larches in Carne Basin. Trail is in good shape, just a bit dusty in place. The creek running through Carne Basin was partially frozen, but no snow on the trail. Larches were beautiful. We decided not to go to the summit because of the cold and our late start. I would highly recommend the trip, just on a warmer day.

Zion called last year so I missed what had become an annual hike to Carne Mt and its larches. Zion was excellent but this is another spot in an overwhelming array of PARADISES.

It was a crisp clear day as we drove up from Leavenworth via Plain. The road is long and seemed even longer on the way out as we kept looking for the pavement to start again. A passenger car is adequate but take a few of the rougher portions slowly.

The trail starts off UP and continues that way to the basin. It was very dry and the our footfalls created waves of dust almost the entire way to the top and more so down.

The trail switchbacks through the woods and climbs quickly through some upper woods, hits open slopes and switchbacks some more before entering the sublime basis with a small creek. The creek was partially frozen. You pass through the meadow (where some folks were camping) and then switchback up through larches and more larches. The sun filtering through those golden and pale green soft trees is unrivaled and while I was pretty tired, it definitely lifted my spirits. Pay homage as you hike up from the basin to the fallen "largest larch" - it was a beaut in its day. You switchback and traverse up to the left and a small saddle and the hike up to the summit. Views in all directions, Rock Creek below on one side and Trinity and Phelps Creek below on the other, the basin, Glacier, Clark, Maude, Seven Fingers, Spider Glacier, Chiwawa, Buck, Fortress and more.

The larches were not entirely turned even with the chill weather. This week will probably conclude their seasonal display but a strong storm could end it quickly.

It is worth the return trip and another return trip and ..... Larches are MAGICAL.

Starting new in a familiar place; that was the theme for this trip to my beloved Entiat Mountains. Last year’s explorations revealed lovely camps on the ridge NE of Carne Mountain. They are located at about 6600’ where the ridge broadens and levels briefly, between spines of rock, before ascending into the austere alpine zone. The very snow that melted in my pots for water defined this luxuriant retreat. Winter snows, blown from slopes below on each side, accumulates deeply on the ridge top. A thin curtain of trees just beyond the crest on each side created an intimate feeling; a sort of meadow hallway of grasses and wildflowers. I mined one of these remnant drifts, cold and pure, for my water. Bodhran used another as a frosty lounge in the sun.
 
The hike gains about 3100’ to the pass between Carne Mtn. and the former Carne Mtn. LO site, then loses 200’, climbs 150’ to exit Rock Creek drainage north on the Leroy High Route. After dropping again it leaves the Leroy route at a switchback, shortly traversing talus from the spiny ridge above to the east. After the talus the track becomes murky. One must scramble upward to a narrow gap where the track re-appears, having been clawed by beast and hiker alike I imagine. From the ridge one must puzzle around a few more spines to the softness of The Destination. You will know when you have arrived; your body will not let you to continue. Total gain is about 3800’. It took me about 3.25 hours in 70 degree heat. There are some signs of historical usage, but not very recent, including an arrow shaped from rocks deeply embedded in the grass.
 
I pitched the tent in the shade of a whitebark pine for cool afternoon siestas, crucial relief from sun, heat, and bugs (mostly tiny vicious mosquitoes). Wind kept bugs from being too much of a bother, although I still had to apply 95% DEET Friday and Saturday. Both nights brought cool air and brilliant stars in near-moonless skies. Delightful metallic bug sounds serenaded sleep. Saturday night was below freezing, solving the bug problem Sunday morning. The camp had easy views of Maude, Glacier, Fortress, Chiwawa, Buck, Carne, Old Gib, and the grand Rock Creek drainage. I have finally traded my old Nikons for digital so can include some images of the trip.
 
A forest fire flared suddenly in the Suiattle drainage Friday at about 4:30p, somewhere near Triad creek I figured. A helicopter reconnoitered the blaze briefly around 6 and flew off. I did not see it on subsequent days so it is likely back in sleep mode. Other excitement included Bodhran’s meet-n-greet with a coyote on Saturday morning. I was preparing for a day-hike near the tent; he was doing dog things around camp like sniffing and acting hungry. When I came out from around some small trees I saw him just outside of camp advancing cautiously toward a healthy looking coyote; the coyote was also cautiously advancing. They were about 10 feet apart. The coyote (casually) ran when I blundered onto the scene. No time for me to be alarmed. I would like to think I would have allowed the encounter had I had the choice. He outweighed the coyote by 10 pounds. Without malice or pressing hunger there would have only been curiosity I imagine, “Where do you live?” “What have you been eating?” I thank coyote for the encounter none-the-less; it is good to be reminded of one’s visitor status. There were lots of bird varieties as well: Evening Grosbeaks; hummingbirds; Hermit thrush; Swanson’s thrush; Western Tanagers; and one Audubon’s Warbler. I should also note the companionable razzing presence of the Clark’s Nutcracker.
 
We did summit point 7968 on our day hike, Bodhran and I. It commanded views of Maude, Ice Lakes and the Chelan group of mountains. A bonus exploration of the route indicated by the rock arrow revealed, disappointingly, that it only descended, poorly I might add, to the lower Leroy High route. One more question answered though. Given the climactic avalanche destruction at the head of Rock Creek valley, I doubt there is much of anything that might be called a trail anymore. Snow scoured rock, old trees, and dirt from the heights to a proper mess in the valley bottom, some tracks a mile long, even curving up the other side.
 
I have been to this area many times over the years, almost consecutively; it was a joy to see it in a new way, with novel encounters. I think it bodes well for this season of travel, if not life itself. Happy Trails!