Day Trip Adventure: Heliotrope Ridge with Friends
Setting Off from Bellingham
Working a part-time job in college during summer has its perks—one of them is flexibility for spontaneous adventures. With a free Thursday, I rallied my buddies, Hayden and Jeremy, for a hike on Heliotrope Ridge near Bellingham, Washington.
Early for college students meant aiming to leave by 9am, but let's be honest, we didn’t hit the road until 10. Navigating through potholes and scattered debris, we reached the trailhead about an hour and a half later, excited and a little underprepared but ready for the trek.
Into the Forest
We stepped into the cool shade of the forest, immediately noticing the temperature fall as we approached Mount Baker. It was a sunny, comfortable 65 degrees in the parking lot, but as we climbed, clouds rolled in and the air chilled.
After 90 minutes of hiking mostly uphill, we found ourselves pausing at gorgeous lookouts with views of the Cascades peeking through forest breaks. The dense woods changed gradually into scrubby trees and light green undergrowth—an indicator we were gaining altitude.
Stream Crossings: Trials and Triumphs
The first stream appeared—a narrow brook, not easily crossed without risking damp shoes. Determined, we trudged through, only to meet a broader, stronger stream 15 minutes later. Fed by Mt. Baker’s frozen summit, this crossing required following Hayden (the best-outfitted among us) through ankle-deep, ice-cold water. Watching each other’s slow-motion sprints through the stream was a highlight—lots of laughs and icy toes.
Other hikers tried going upstream or downstream to find a drier crossing, but we opted for the most direct (not necessarily driest) route.
The third and most daunting crossing waited near the hike’s end. At least 20 feet wide and much deeper, the current intimidated even seasoned hikers resting at the bank. We witnessed a nerve wracking moment as someone’s dog nearly got pulled away by the rapids. With many watchers and passerby's, one of them ran over to lend a hand and take the dog the rest of the way.
Now it was our turn. Luckily I was last to go watching over them, making sure they didn’t fall or need help. At last it was my turn, and wow it was deeper than I thought. My athletic running shoes were not prepared for going knee deep in freezing rapids I'll tell you that! Crawling on all fours over slippery stones, I made it across—cold, soaked, and pretty proud of our collective effort.
The Glacier Reveal
A few hundred feet further and we crested a rise to the hike’s payoff: a brilliant blue-and-white glacier, radiating cold and wind that transformed the temperature around us. For a college student from the city, this was the closest I’d ever stood to a glacier—a surreal moment that brought the tired, shivering crew together for a well-earned lunch.
Watching Summer Ice Climbers
Midway through our meal, we spotted something odd: a climber ascending the glacier’s broken, icy surface—right in the middle of July. He wasn’t alone; a second climber followed, their daring act causing my group to watch in disbelief.
The Return Journey
On the way down, stream crossings felt less intimidating. Twice-tested and adrenaline-fueled, we splashed through with a bit more confidence (and noticeably less drama). The final descent took just an hour and fifteen minutes, a breezy contrast to the uphill challenge.
Wrapping Up: Barbecue and Reflections
There’s no better ending to a mountain adventure than good food. We capped the day sharing a hearty, late barbecue lunch back in town, muddy shoes and all, already reminiscing about icy streams, glacier gusts, and the camaraderie you can only find on the trail.
Sometimes the best college summers aren’t measured in dollar signs, but in cold creek crossings, mountain air, and shared stories you’ll never forget.