Alpine Lakes Wilderness #7 - Loch Katrine

There are days when a trip can be measured in miles, elevation gain, or time on trail. And then there are days like this one—where the story is told in fragments.

An $85 annual pass.An Apple Maps fail.A long, winding forest road.Snow at elevation.Blowdowns stacked like pick-up sticks across the trail.Dozens of American Robins, several Steller’s Jays, a few Dark-eyed Juncos, a couple of Varied Thrushes, a Ruffed Grouse, a Hairy Woodpecker (first of year)—and one Black Bear.And somewhere in the middle of it all—Loch Katrine.

The First Lake

This was technically my first lake of the Alpine Lakes Wilderness season (and my first Loch!) That alone made it feel like a milestone, even if the lake itself remained mostly hidden—guarded by snow and tangled timber.

The route followed an old logging road, the kind that invites a steady rhythm. Not steep, not particularly technical, just a gradual immersion into forest. Occasional breaks in the trees offered sweeping views, hints of what lay deeper in the wilderness.

Then came the snow.

At first, just patches. Then longer stretches. Then enough to obscure the trail entirely.

And with it, the blowdowns.

Each one required a decision—step over, crawl under, or detour around. The further in I went, the more frequent they became, until forward progress turned into a puzzle. By the time I reached what I believed to be the lake’s edge, it was less of an arrival and more of a question mark. A glimpse through trees. A suggestion of water. Enough to say I’d made it—but not enough to linger.

The Turnaround

Sometimes the mountain makes the decision for you.

Between the snowpack and the maze of fallen trees, it was clear the trail wasn’t going to reveal itself any further today. No frustration. Just a quiet acknowledgment—it’s still early season up here.

So I turned around.

The Encounter

On the way back, something shifted.

I slowed down, though I couldn’t say why. Maybe instinct. Maybe the subtle awareness that you’re not alone out there.

That’s when I saw him.

A black bear.

Not far off the trail, moving through the forest with that effortless confidence that only wild animals seem to have. I backed up slightly, gave him space, and started calling out:

“Hey Bear.”

Again. Louder.

He paused, finally registering me, then turned and ran off into the trees.

No fear. Just respect. A shared understanding of distance.

A few minutes later, near the van, I ran into a guy heading up the road on an electric mountain bike. I mentioned the bear.

“Bears don’t bother me,” he said.

Well you have been warned, I thought and wished him luck while I went on my way. Note to self: check the police blotter over next few days about bears attacking an elderly man riding a electric mountain bike.

The Road Back

There’s something about the return drive that always feels shorter.

Maybe it’s familiarity. Maybe it’s the quiet satisfaction of having gone somewhere—even if it didn’t turn out exactly as planned.

On the way in, I wasn’t entirely sure what I was looking for. The directions had already gone sideways thanks to Apple Maps, forcing me to rely on written directions and a bit of guesswork.

It felt… different.

As a kid, that was normal. No GPS. No rerouting. Just maps, memory, and maybe a co-pilot trying to decipher instructions while you watched for landmarks. Missing a turn wasn’t an error—it was part of the process.

Somewhere along the way, we traded that uncertainty, and the discovery which comes with it, for precision.

But today, for a little while, I got it back.

If You Go

• Access: Forest roads can be long, winding, and slow—expect conditions to vary with weather and season.

• Navigation: Don’t rely solely on apps like Apple Maps. Have backup directions or offline maps ready.

• Seasonality: Snow lingers well into spring at elevation. Blowdowns are common early season before trail crews can clear them.

• Wildlife: Black bears are active—make noise, give space, and stay aware.

• Expectations: Early season trips in the Alpine Lakes Wilderness are often more about the experience than the destination.

Not every hike gives you a postcard view.

Some give you a story instead.