Colchuck Lake — Saturday, Oct. 23, 1999

Central Cascades > Leavenworth Area

For weeks owls had been coming to our house dropping off letters with the same message, “We are sorry to inform you that your request for a permit to the Enchantment Lake basin is DENIED!” The situation had deteriorated so bad that we actually tried to go to Malwitch Lake, only to be turned back by hordes of apprentice wizards from the House of Slytherton with red caps and shoulder stripes. Imagine our surprise and delight when the friendly giant httpwwwfsfedusr6wenatcheerecreatereportshtml appeared with the news in a glittering green letter with the runes USFS on the corner. “No permits required after October 15!” The letter went on to say that there was little snow on route. A quick check of the omens from the gnome Noaa showed that the weekend of the 23-24 was predicted to be relatively clear with only the barest chance of green lightning and storms of bewitchment. The children were sent off to stay with their aunt and uncle who tucked them safely in the cupboard. The route chosen was to be first through the blackened forest to the reflecting Pool of Colchuck. Then we will climb to the Gates of Enchantment guarded by the dwarf Aasgard. The wizards Manning and Spring warned that the way was hard, steep, fraught with difficulties, and above all disrespectful. “Hoggwarts!” we replied, the route they recommend past the valley of Nada and Lakes of Snow would take us too long. Besides we had been this way before and knew it was barely passable with several feet of new snow. The next step was to pick our supplies. I checked to see if Page the Elf had finished my boots and found they were not yet ready. I promptly packed up six dead batteries for ballast. We did not bother taking our brooms for we knew a stopping spell placed on the area would prevent their use. Unbeknown to me Lynda packed her pack with Camembert, Cabernet, and Chocolate for a birthday surprise. We drove in darkness through the passes of Snoqualmie and Squawk to the village of Leavenworth without incident. The valley of Icicles was to be our intended camp for the first night. The caps were either closed or full so we silently rode through the blackened forest to the start. There we spent the night under a full witching moon. Other travelers arrived in the night and eyed us suspiciously. In the morn we started up on our way passing the black trees that bore the evidence of the curse of fire from He Who’s Name We Do Not Speak. A few years earlier this had been a beautiful forest of pine and fir with a scattering of the Golden Trees. Then he came and filled the valley with fire leaving a ring of ghost trees warning of his wrath. The path split and we dared the footlog the other path being for ponies and centaurs. The paths rejoined and we were presented with a dilemma, one path went to Colchuck Lake the other labeled Colchuck Creek. We paused and chose the lake path but noted it had changed as a high bridge now spanned the creek where before there was a nasty ford. We feared the bridge troll but drove it away with our crude spells. The way now went up, up, UP through dark forest passing a sign at 5000’ that stated “No Cauldrons Allowed”. Finally from a high rock we could see the valley and Tor Ingalls and Tor Cashmere scenes of other old debacles. The air was still and sharp as we arrived at the Reflecting Pool of Colchuck. There reflected in the celestine water were the Pass of Aasgard and the icy Col of Colchuck. To get there we must traverse the Maze of Boulders. In the maze there were paths in all directions all marked with cairns. We became separated and confused with all paths leading back to the lake but some with pitfalls and unseen dangers. At the lake we found each other and stopped for a spot of tea. While enjoying our tea, two runners in shorts passed and ran up to the pass in great haste. We lifted our packs and began the long trudge up to the pass. The shifting scree squirted out from our boots as it was three steps up for one back for a half mile up and out. A German gnome headed up toward the frozen waterfall but soon returned to the cunning path. At one point where the way was glazed with verglas, a spell was required, I pronounced the word “Thrutchalayback” and the way yielded. Arriving at the pass we were surprised by a small man in blue. He told us this is the way. Our mission had been conveyed by owl to Aasgard who aided our passage. Passing a group of climbers enjoying a Frosty Fosters we started a search for a secure campsite away from the winds we knew would befall us. We found a spot on above misleadingly named Tranquil Lake frozen solid. We had a good view of The Witches Tower. We stopped for lunch and I was surprised by the contents of Lynda’s pack. We set up camp. We continued on to the Enchanted Lakes. The first few lakes too were locked in an icy spell. We attempted to lift the spell, to no avail. Soon we passed groves of trees of gold sparkling in the sun. These enchanted trees look like evergreens but first turn gold then leave the golden needles for all to see. Clearly strong magic was at work here. We gazed at the scene knowing that each of these lakes had a muggle and a true name. The muggle names are prosaic like Perfection, Isolation and Inspiration while the true names are filled with magic like Rune, Valkyrie and Excalibur. Tempus Fugit and we had to return to camp. Clouds were building in the west and we knew the night would not be easy. A cold blast came and the stove was hard to light and slow to cook. It grew dark. We grew hungry as the rice stayed hard. Someone knew we were here and wanted us OUT. After ages we began to eat and the snow began to fall. Tiny flakes that stung in the wind. The lights of strangers approached looking for camps. They passed and were never seen again. In the sky above were lights of red and green flickering in the north. When the hot chocolate froze in our cups we retreated to our tent. Snow constantly hammered our tent making sleep difficult. When we emerged to look around the ground was white, but the moon was bright. The snow kept falling against the tent but the sky was bright. By morning only a frosting was apparent. Were the flakes only in a whirlwind around our tent' Alas, it was time to go we had to free our children from muggle custody. The way down the pass was easy as the spells were lifted. We lingered long at the Reflecting Pool of Colchuck to view the wonders around us. The sun shone brightly and we flew down the trail. Driving down we saw the devastation of that terrible time years ago when the valley was filled with fire.