After a high summer visit to Yellow Aster Butte in 2008, Natasha (a.k.a. Faisel) and I arranged a late summer backpacking trip there this year. To get to the trail, head north to Canada, east on 542 in Bellingham, and then north on the unpaved road just past the highway maintenance buildings at about 12 miles east of Glacier. Five miles up on a decent dirt road brought us to the trailhead parking area. In contrast to July-August parking nightmares, lots of space was available, even at 9 am on a Saturday.

Once sufficiently caffeinated and packed, we embarked on the initial switchbacks, with pleasant views and fireweed going to seed. After half a mile or so, the way enters the forest as it aims towards the meadows below the Yellow Aster Butte-Tomyhoi Lake trail intersection. With full packs our progress was slow, and slowed further by numerous patches of perfectly ripe blueberries and huckleberries. Yum. At the two mile intersection, we took the westerly track to Yellow Aster. This stretch runs under the ridgeline, with super views to Shuksan and Baker, a snowfield crossing, fields of moptops (anemones), and groupings of purple penstemon, yellow monkey flowers, and white pearly everlasting. Purple-blue asters were plentiful, but Natasha found only one or two small gatherings of yellow asters. Hmmm. Prior to the three mile mark, the route curves around a shoulder of the butte and opens to views of Excelsior Ridge and numerous lakes. Shortly thereafter, a side trail leads to the surprisingly steep short switchbacks down to the lakes.

Several tents were visible in the basin, but the gods were with us: Natasha and I claimed the premier campsite on the hillock just past the first lake. Views were unimpeded. Twirling clockwise we could snap shots of Shuksan, Excelsior Ridge, Tomyhoi Peak, and the American Border Peaks. Below reposed the nearest meadow- and rock-bound lakes. After setting up, Natasha napped while I filtered water. Then we visited lakelets, wading in cold water in the warm afternoon. We since discovered that Carol and Greg, friends who coincidentally were on the butte, took long distance photos of our campsite in the late afternoon, but we never crossed paths. Near dusk, during cocktails and dinner, a fireball shot across the western sky, too fast for a comet, too bright for a meteor. Web reports corroborated our observation and have implicated an asteroid. Very cool. Later, Natasha and I collected wishing stars. I quietly put mine to use. Then we slept under the Milky Way.

Sunday ascended with bright sunlight and tons of huckleberries and blueberries in our morning oatmeal. We dawdled till eleven and then wended our way past lakes to the east, towards the steep path zig-zagging through grass, flowers, and berries up the first shelf to Tomyhoi Peak: we were happy to have our hiking poles here. Once up this steep stretch, every other step showed new panoramas. Shuksan, Excelsior, Baker, Tomyhoi, Yellow Aster, American Border, and dozens and dozens of more distant North Cascade Peaks took stage. We ate lunch on Tomyhoi surrounded by them and collected ice from one of the few remaining snowfields before heading down. We wandered past our campsite towards Excelsior Ridge, finding the remains of a small quartz (?) mining operation above one of the Western lakes. Natasha picked glitttering stones while I gathered berries. We carried our respective treasures back to camp and admired them over now iced cocktails and dinner. Natasha showed me each wishing star as it came out, and I put all mine again in a single basket. After that, we took to our sleeping bags and constellations took over the sky.

We slept late Monday morning, partly because the basin had become a bowl of fog. After coffee, berries, oatmeal, and packing up, we retraced our steps steeply up to the shoulder of Yellow Aster Butte, and along the long foggy slide back to the trailhead. We stopped for a pleasant early dinner at Graham's in Glacier, and recounted each minute of our wonderful trip.

Natasha and I will be back. Wishing stars will see to that.