North Cascades NP: Wildlife and Turquoise Lakes
Crossing back through the Peace Arch at Blaine, Washington, felt like clicking ruby slippers together: there’s no place like home. Sure, the border line was long enough to memorize every bumper sticker in sight, but the moment we hit the U.S. Port of Entry, it felt like comfort food for the soul.
For my friends who keep daydreaming about packing up and moving to Canada — listen, it’s gorgeous, wild, and sparkly as a freshly polished diamond… but trust me, Dorothy had it right. There’s no place like the good ol’ U.S.A.
Sasquatch Country
Not long after, we rolled into Skamania County, which (fun fact) has an actual ordinance that makes it illegal to harm Sasquatch. Yup. Bigfoot is legally protected here — no tagging, no trapping, no smack talk. It’s also Bigfoot tourism central: blurry photo sightings, guided “hunts,” and more Sasquatch souvenirs than you can fit in Bessie’s glove box.
Meanwhile, Rocky Mountain elk roam these parts like antlered royalty — some with racks so big they look Photoshopped. My brain was already in wildlife-reel mode: maybe a bear fishing salmon mid-leap, maybe a moose wading gracefully through a river. Call me reckless, but I was practically volunteering to be bear bait if it meant capturing that perfect shot.
Then we crossed the Skagit River; 150 miles of wild flow dumping into Puget Sound. Think bald eagles overhead, five species of salmon below, and rafters bouncing along in between. This felt like the jackpot spot.
Into the North Cascades
We aimed for North Cascades National Park, one of the least-visited parks in the country (translation: perfect for my National Geographic-level animal hunt, without busloads of selfie-stick tourists getting in the way).
We passed Ross Lake Recreation Area (with my maiden name, obviously a cosmic sign that I belonged here) and made a pit stop at the Visitor Center. It was all rustic beams, forest-scented air, and rangers who clearly knew how to handle overly eager city folk. I got my coveted passport stamp and bounced in line, practically rehearsing my question: “Ranger, at what exact magical hour — 4 a.m., 5 a.m., or 6 a.m. — will the bears and moose be waiting for me?”
The ranger rattled off the park highlights like a pro: Ross Lake, Diablo Lake, Gorge Lake — all turquoise, all glacier-fed, all Instagram gold. Hikes to Rainy Lake, Pyramid Lake, Cutthroat Lake — more teal-blue water, more postcard views. And the roll call of wildlife? Grizzlies, moose, black bears, wolves, mountain lions, bobcats, wolverines, mountain goats. Basically, a “who’s who” of animals that could eat me. My kind of place.
When Plans Go… Up in Smoke
Then, reality crashed my wildlife fantasy. As I stepped up to ask my “what time will the bears appear” question, the ranger was already telling the woman ahead of me the bad news:
Only four campgrounds in the park.
One only reachable by boat.
Diablo Lake Campground? Gone. Burned down last year.
The two remaining? First come, first served.
Translation: “Good luck, city girl.”
Naturally, we drove through the campgrounds twice, hoping a reserved sign would magically peel itself off a post. Nope. Every site booked solid. Boondocking? Forget it. Every dirt patch had “Day Use Only” stamped on it like a scarlet letter.
Alan, ever the voice of reason, finally sighed:
“Honey, I know you’re upset, but this is the last two weeks of summer. Families, college kids… they’ve had these sites booked since spring. Everyone’s out here with kayaks and inflatable unicorn floaties. It’s party central.”
He wasn’t wrong. At every lake — Ross, Diablo, Gorge — there were flotillas of twenty-somethings blasting music and doing cannonballs. Meanwhile, I was still holding out hope for one shy grizzly who’d prefer our quiet company to the inflatable-raft Olympics happening onshore. Spoiler: no such luck.
So I gave up the hunt, swallowed my pride, and admitted defeat. The bears weren’t lining up for their close-up.
But that’s okay. Because the next stop? Mount Rainier. And I’ve been waiting a long time to hike those trails.at mountain!