We initially made another attempt to traverse Shuksan Arm; this time from the west end near the ski area. That failed again so we opted for plan B. Normally, the hike to Hontoon Point is less than 1 mile and 100' of gain but with the road to Artist Point closed, the distance is about 4 miles and 1000' of gain. The path passes several nice little tarns and ends at a high point with dramatic views of both Shuksan and Baker. The trail from the ski area parking lot was frozen in the morning and the lower sections were slushy or muddy in the after noon.

A popping sensation in my calf on the 5th had me despairing that the golden backpacking month of September would slip away. Indeed, the hobbling retreat from Winchester summit gave me plenty of time to consider my sudden and unfamiliar infirmity. Some research at home confirmed a torn tendon. Other than rest, there was not much else that would speed the estimated 3-5 weeks recovery. Fine, the weather was lousy anyway. But then it got better, and I was feeling good; no pain as long as I did not use that particular muscle.
 
After consulting my list of destinations, I found one that had languished for years due to its proximity to a 200 car parking lot. That liability became its asset. No way could I sit home with grand September sunshine gracing our beautiful Cascades. My destination was less than a half-mile and 500’ descent; a secret tarn only seen from a distance some years ago. I arrived early at the departure point, a vast sea of asphalt crosshatched with paint stripes, so no one would witness my hobbling madness (it looked like it was painful, but not at all). I gimped the gravel path, tread more by white shoes and flip-flops than hiking boots, to the end of the tourist grade trail, and pointed my toes downhill. A faint track dropped steeply (for a disabled person) over rock and through brush. I felt good with each careful step; I was already in fabulous meadows with tiny tarns, but the smell of a golden destination kept me going. At one point I strayed into a fading track that ended in steep brush above a cliff; I retraced my steps and found the proper track, more to the north side of the ridge. It soon entered ridgeline hemlock forest; this was the most difficult stretch. The track became steeper with an accompanying layer of slippery needles. I was thus delivered into my private little nirvana: a perfectly sized tarn surrounded by tiny tarns; and cozy pocket meadows nested with curling yellow grasses. Easy views to the Celebrity Mountains of the area, Kulshan & Shuksan, completed the charm.
 
 I laid out our bags out in one of the higher meadows away from the tarn to keep the dew to a minimum; we had a couple of tiny tarns for water. My convalescent stay involved nothing more than shuffling about in sandals or slippers, picking blueberries (5 quarts), taking photos, drinking wine, skinny-dipping, and losing sleep under an inspiring star dome. A waning moon sharpened during our 2 night stay, and a horned owl called in the gloaming hours of the evening. Bodhran delighted in foraging for berries, and wading about in the large tarn during our warm azure days. Except for the occasional posse of HDs roaring harmlessly in the distance, it was a very quiet place. Gnats were another harmless pest, but only in the pre-dawn hour).
 
My calf felt even better on the climb back to the car, although I am still careful not to test that muscle. I left feeling more healed, and certainly re-assured that perhaps with another 2 weeks of “rest” there is a chance to catch some Autumn Larch gold. (I know, I’m hooked! I have a problem! I’ll cut back in January! Promise!)