I think it’s fair to say that if you’ve lived in Whatcom County long enough, you’ve made at least one trip out to Mount Baker. Whether you’re a skiier or you just like the thrill of being on top of the world, there’s good reason to head up that way at least once in your lifetime. People who’ve lived here their entire lives have even told me that they’re still in awe of the magnificent peaks.

Now, I didn’t have the privilege of growing up near snow-capped mountains just miles away from my home. But we did have our fair share of spectacular sky-high sights. For example:

This is Joppenburgh Mountain in Rosendale, New York. It’s a hiker’s dream in the summer and fall, and a towering backdrop over the Main Street of the town I grew up in. No, Main Street isn’t that path over on the left. That would be part of the Rail Trail- a world wonder in and of itself. Here’s the trail from the top of Joppenburgh:

(Photo credit: Marianne Hawryluk)

Just for kicks, this is what Main Street looks like from the trail:

This view is eternally etched in my memory, just like the Cascades may be etched in yours if you’ve lived in Whatcom County for- really, any amount of time. Now, I’ve been living in Whatcom County for nearly a year, and figured my inaugural trip up Mount Baker would come sooner or later. It was part of my itinerary when my mom came up to visit recently. I suppose I’ve hyped it up enough times over the phone that it became the focal point of her first visit to Whatcom County.

I kid you not- every time we passed a mountain on I-5, she’d point and go: “Is that one Mount Baker??”

May be an image of mountain, sky and nature

(An example. No, I don’t know what mountain this is either. Photo: Marianne Hawryluk)

We started off that Sunday morning at a local coffee place. On the way there, she tried about 3 times to find the mountain (unsuccessfully, but let’s give her credit for trying). Her excitement could barely be contained as we drove onto the Mt. Baker exit. I did tell her ahead of time that we weren’t able to go up to the very top, at Artist Point, but we would drive as far as we could. Also worth mentioning- she is not the biggest fan of long car rides, but was more than willing to take a passenger seat for the ride up to the top.

So we left for the mountaintop sometime around 11am. We were treated to mostly clear skies and a starting temperature of 47° F as we zipped through Deming and Maple Falls. She suggested I should buy a plot of land out in the eastern part of the county, because “look at those views! You can see Mount Baker from here!” While I appreciated the offer, and while some mountains were visible at that part of the trek, Mt. Baker wasn’t among them… yet.

She turned the heated seats on right around Glacier, as temperatures began to dip into the low 40’s. The snowy peaks were inching closer and closer. The snow on our end was beginning to pile up as well. Scattered swaths of snow slowly snuck up to a few inches, then a few feet of “white stuff”. The East Coast recently got walloped with winter weather, so snow in April for my mom or myself wasn’t unheard of. But we were not prepared for the snowpack to come.

May be an image of nature, tree and mountain

(Still not Mount Baker. Photo: Marianne Hawryluk)

Do you remember your first driving lesson? Or do you remember learning how to drive with a parent or relative in the passenger seat, making sure you didn’t crash the family car at a 4-way stop? Once the winding roads became wet with melted snow, I was transported back in time to the family station wagon. My unremarkable driving up until that point suddenly became riddled with errors, according to my passenger. I was going too fast on the wet roads. I was holding up traffic behind us. When’s the last time I had my wipers replaced? I don’t know, but I’m going up a mountain and would like to focus on getting us up to the top, please. Yes, we’re driving up Mount Baker. No, I doubt we have service up here. You can post all those pictures to Facebook later. Look, there’s the ski area! We’re getting close, I think.

Right after we passed the slopes, where thrill seekers looked like ants sliding down the surface of the mountain, the tone inside the car abruptly changed. It had just occurred to my mom- again, sitting on the passenger side- that about a foot of snow separated us from the valley below. No guardrail, no trees. From my perspective, the view was magnificent. We were almost at the top! My mom, unfortunately, didn’t feel the same.

“Pull over. Right now. I’m freaking out,” she commanded, gripping my shoulder for dear life.

Fortunately, there was a pull-off area right in front of us, surrounded by sky-high snowbanks and towering trees. Temperature at the top: 30° F. She felt safe enough to leave the car and take a few pictures, but pled with me to let her drive back down. That was enough excitement for one day. We decided to have our own mini Ski-to-Sea, if you will, and spend the rest of the day at sea level.

But on the way back to Bellingham, the strangest thing happened. As the snowline receded and the temperature made its way back into the 40’s, my mom goes: “That wasn’t so bad. We could’ve totally made it up to the top.”

She’s due back in the area this summer. Let’s see if that offer still stands.