Enchantment Awaits: Our First Backpacking Adventure in the Colchuck Zone
Going on a backpacking trip with your significant other is akin to stepping into a challenging yet rewarding team project. Throw in two adventurous friends, the notoriously competitive permit lottery, and a furnace mishap, and you have the makings of an unforgettable tale. This was exactly the scenario for my boyfriend and me on our first backpacking trip to the Colchuck Zone in Washington State’s famed Enchantment region. Spoiler alert: we survived, both as a couple and as individuals. But the journey? Absolutely legendary.
The Permit Hunger Games
For those unfamiliar, scoring an Enchantments permit is like winning a raffle for gold. Every year, thousands of outdoor enthusiasts clamor for a limited number of overnight permits to access this alpine paradise. The odds are slim, and year after year, we’d come up short.
When the confirmation email finally landed in our inbox, it felt surreal. Not only did my best friend snag permits, but they were for the coveted Colchuck Zone—the gateway to the Enchantments and home to the breathtaking Colchuck Lake.
With our permits secured, together we meticulously planned our gear, meals, and itinerary. The anticipation was electric and while waiting for a few months for our permitted date we all trained meticulously in order to make sure we were all in shape for what was ahead.
Day 1: Into the Wild (and Up the Hill)
Our journey began at the Stuart Lake Trailhead on a crisp October morning, packs brimming with supplies and spirits high. The hike to Colchuck Lake spans 4.5 miles one way, with an elevation gain of approximately 2,300 feet—challenging but manageable for our eager group.
The first stretch was a gentle climb through dense forest, where sunlight filtered through towering pines and firs. The scent of damp earth and the soothing sound of rushing streams accompanied us, creating a tranquil introduction to the trail. My bandaged finger, though inconvenient, seemed to hold up reasonably well—at least for now. If you could picture ….
As we pressed onward, the terrain grew rockier, with uneven steps and boulders scattered across the path. Streams crisscrossed our route, offering a chance to refill water bottles and catch our breath. The occasional peek at snow-dusted peaks in the distance fueled our excitement. We couldn’t help but pause at some of these overlooks, marveling at how the landscape seemed to transform with every switchback and we took those opportunities for much needed water breaks. Just as if it was divine timing, the weather turned into a soft mist that covered everything with its wetness. Not wanting to risk our gear getting too wet we all had decided to unpack our rain covers and draped them each with a waterproofing material.
Then came the infamous switchbacks. These relentless zigzags marked the final push to the lake and were all physically and mentally taxing. The trail transformed into a rugged mix of loose gravel, roots, and jagged rocks that demanded careful navigation. My injured hand made gripping trekking poles tricky, but with my boyfriend’s encouragement and a few well-timed breaks, we powered through.
Finally, as we crested the last ridge, Colchuck Lake unveiled itself in all its glory. The glacial waters glowed an otherworldly turquoise, framed by jagged peaks and the imposing Dragontail Mountain. It was as if we’d stumbled into a dreamscape—one we’d worked hard to earn.
Setting up camp brought its own challenges. Wrestling with tent poles felt like solving an advanced geometry puzzle, made harder by my limited dexterity and the colder weather. The wind and rain made our first night memorable to say the least. Meanwhile, our friends provided unsolicited commentary, their laughter echoing across the alpine basin. Eventually, we managed to erect a passable shelter and rewarded ourselves with dehydrated chili.
“Five-star dining,” my boyfriend joked, prompting groans and laughter around the campfire. The camaraderie we shared made the evening’s simplicity feel luxurious.
Day 2: Exploring and Enduring
We awoke to the crisp bite of alpine air and a sky painted in hues of dawn. The lake mirrored Dragontail Mountain’s snow-covered summit, creating a view that felt almost too perfect to be real. Breakfast consisted of oatmeal and coffee—a humble meal elevated by the scenery surrounding us.
After breakfast, we set out to explore the area. Hiking along the lake’s rocky perimeter, we marveled at how the water’s clarity revealed submerged logs and stones, making it seem as though we were walking beside liquid crystal. The trail here was uneven, requiring us to balance carefully on boulders and navigate around patches of snow.
My finger’s discomfort chose this moment to remind me it existed. Gripping my trekking poles sent sharp jolts of pain through my hand, forcing me to pause frequently. When the ache grew too intense, my boyfriend quietly took on extra weight from my pack.
“Teamwork,” he said with a grin, lightening the mood as we continued onward.
We spent hours scrambling over boulder fields, snapping photos, and reveling in the majesty of our surroundings. At one point, we found a secluded spot along the lake to rest, dipping our feet into the frigid water. The icy chill was both invigorating and numbing, a perfect balm for sore muscles.
“Let’s just stay here forever,” one friend mused, and for a moment, it seemed like the best idea anyone had ever had. We lingered there longer than planned, soaking up the tranquility and letting time slip by unnoticed.
The rest of the day was a balance of exploration and relaxation. We ventured toward the base of Aasgard Pass, marveling at its steep ascent and silently vowing to tackle it on a future trip. By the time we returned to camp, the fading sunlight bathed the lake in golden hues, casting a magical glow over our final evening.
Day 3: The Descent (a.k.a. Knees Beware)
All too soon, it was time to pack up and head back. The descent was a mixed bag: easier on the lungs but brutal on the knees. By now, my burn had developed a fresh blister, and every step reminded me of the furnace mishap that started it all. My trekking poles, now indispensable, bore the brunt of my weight as I carefully navigated the descent.
As we retraced our path through the forest, I couldn’t help but reflect on the journey. The Colchuck Zone had delivered on its promise of jaw-dropping beauty and humbling challenges. Sharing it with my boyfriend and close friends made it all the more special. The descent offered a chance to soak in the beauty one last time, even if it was tinged with the bittersweet knowledge that our adventure was nearing its end.
When we reached the trailhead, we collapsed onto a bench, sweaty and triumphant. “We did it,” my boyfriend said, holding up his hand for a high-five. I gingerly offered my uninjured hand in response.
Lessons Learned (and Laughs Shared)
This trip was far more than a backpacking adventure; it was a lesson in resilience, teamwork, and finding joy even in discomfort. Here are a few takeaways:
Safety first. Furnaces demand respect. Gloves are not optional.
The permit struggle is worth it. The Enchantments’ unparalleled beauty makes every obstacle worthwhile.
Partnership matters. A supportive partner can turn even the toughest moments into cherished memories.
As we drove back to civilization, the soreness in my legs and the sting in my hand were eclipsed by a deep sense of fulfillment. The Enchantments had tested us, enchanted us, and left us with stories we’ll recount for years to come.
Here’s to many more adventures—burns, blisters, and all. And guess what? We’re ready to apply for these permits again come February 2025
