Goat Peak Lookout
Summit 9 of 70--June 17, 2023
To celebrate a proud milestone for Kris (my wife), her folks generously treated us to a long weekend in Winthrop, Washington, at a great little cabin on the edge of town. And lucky me, I often get to plan the hikes during our travels. Given a sunny forecast and the fact that I’ve been simmering away with summit fever these past weeks, the first place that came to mind was Goat Peak, a popular high point of the North Cascades that I’d never visited. Its lofty fire lookout stands almost 7,000 feet above sea level, high above the Methow River and nearly a vertical mile above the blink-and-you’ll-miss-it town of Mazama.
“Mazama” is widely interpreted to mean “mountain goat,” although it was supposedly an Aztec word for a small deer. Regardless, it’s a cool word that most mountain hikers in the western U.S. may be familiar with. And where better to utter a little Aztec lingo than atop Goat Peak?
We drove Highway 20 east, with just a quick break in Newhalem, and another near Whistler and Cutthroat Peaks for a photo in beautiful light. The snow was nearly gone at Washington Pass, where we began the gliding descent to the town of Mazama. We found the road leading up to the trailhead to be in fine condition, with just a few rough spots, and parked the Colorado around noon.
I’d promised Kris a reasonably modest, sometimes steepish hike, which turned out to be a little on the optimistic side. The two-mile trail climbs 1,400 feet to the top. A good chunk of it is actually quite a grind, although abundant wildflowers gave us plenty of reason to pause and enjoy the place.
As we gained elevation, the breeze picked up and cooled considerably, which had us donning jackets by the time we topped the ridge. Fortunately, the final half-mile was mostly a stroll, with a couple of steep spots.
We encountered just a handful of fellow hikers coming and going, then were left to enjoy the 360-degree view by ourselves, with the town of Mazama far below. The lookout itself is not open to the public, since it’s actually one of the few that are actively manned during fire season. No fires today, though.
Suffice it to say, the peak was bagged and a good hike was had by all, notwithstanding a slightly sore left knee.
We were soon kicking back in our comfy cabin in Winthrop, with the only tough decision remaining being where to go for dinner, a choice that clearly belonged to Kris. While we waited for a table in Jack’s Saloon, we unexpectedly bumped into her brother and his family heading off to roller skate under the lights at the town’s outdoor rink. By the time we walked over later to join them, we’d missed all the fun, which was a-okay with me. Somehow, spinning pirouettes on wheels did not sound like an ideal form of knee therapy.
Hi Ken, where are you and Kris living these days?