September 9–11, 2012: Elfin Lakes, Garibaldi.
It was, eery, quiet, magical. We ascended into the clouds, into a whiteness so complete it erased all sense of scale, all sense of place. There was little evidence we were in the mountains at all.
It began raining in earnest once we reached the lakes and we were soaked by the time the tent was up. With faint hope of our stuff drying out the 3-day trip would likely shrink to 2, so we were glad indeed for the option of the cabin. We packed everything back up, wet and weary, and headed for the shelter in the grey afterlight. It poured all night, the wind strong and loud enough to pull us from sleep. The cabin groaned and creaked.
The rain turned to snow on the second day as we hiked up the Saddle to the Gargoyles for a brief glimpse through the fog and clouds. It was stunning.
And then, on the third day, it cleared up. We woke up surrounded by mountains, solid, real, gleaming and jagged with fresh snow. Just in time for a quick brisk swim before heading back down again.
More photos from the trip here.