The one where we accidentally booked a site for a wedding party

Baker Lake, Washington

You’d think after ten years in Seattle, we’d have exhausted every scenic corner within a three-hour radius. But nope—this was our first time at Baker Lake, which is frankly fadyha (embarrassing). We’ve crossed oceans, driven to California and back, yet somehow missed this gem hiding in our own backyard. Classic.

This time, we decided to leave Louie behind with our friend Linda and her greyhound, Katy. Did Louie love hanging out with his buddy? Absolutely. Did he judge us for going on an adventure without him? One hundred percent.

Day 1: the accidental private estate

We rolled into Boulder Creek Campground around lunchtime, feeling pretty smug about securing a site. And what a site it was! Private entrance, a huge clearing, even its own bathroom—truly, the VIP treatment.

As we admired our kingdom for the weekend, a small detail clicked into place: Karl had booked a group site. For 25 people. That explained why it cost over 100 bucks. Ya habibi. We had basically reserved a space large enough to host a full Lebanese engagement party, DJ and tabbouleh buffet included.

Oh well—might as well lean into the luxury

lake? Turquoise, surreal, straight-up photoshopped. North Cascades mountains towering in the background, water so clear you could see straight to the bottom. Just one problem: it was fresh. And by fresh, I mean borderline glacial.

We jumped in anyway—Turns out, surviving Montreal winters doesn’t mean you’re ready for this. But as soon as the icy water hit, I started questioning all my life choices faster than a Montrealer realizing they forgot their gloves in January.

Post-swim, we warmed up at camp and attempted showers with our trusty RinseKit Pro (acquired during our cross-country road trip), which is basically a glorified garden sprayer. And by “showers,” I mean a rapid, frantic splash session before the mosquitoes launched their attack. Then we passed out early, like true people of the mountain life.

Day 2: naked by Watson Lake

Bright and early, we set off for our big hike: Anderson & Watson Lakes. The drive to the trailhead was a 45-minute gravel-road adventure, where we saw a deer and its baby—a rare moment of serenity before the dust storm that was our van.

The hike itself? Gorgeous, but not a walk in the park. 2.5 hours of climbing, huffing, and pretending we weren’t out of shape.

After our dip, we realized we had zero extra clothes to change into. Solution? Go full send and let nature do the drying. So there we were, two people, fully exposed, sitting by a crystal-clear alpine lake, eating lunch like this was normal.

Lebanese modesty? Gone. If our ancestors could see us now, ya 3ayb el shoom (shame on us), they’d shake their heads and disown us on the spot. Two people, fully exposed, sitting by a pristine alpine lake, eating lunch like we were at a Parisian café. If there was ever a moment to question our life choices, this was it. But hey, the mountains demanded respect, and we complied.

The way back? Tough but worth it. The drive home? After 45 minutes of dirt and gravel roads before finally hitting asphalt for the two-hour drive home, a dust cloud followed us all the way to Seattle. We rolled into the city looking like we had spent two weeks on the Sahara circuit.

Final thoughts

Baker Lake, you were majestic. The water? A dream. The hike? Epic. The accidental wedding-sized campsite? A hilarious bonus.

Would we go back? In a heartbeat. Would we book a site for 25 people again? Allah yostor. But hey, if anyone ever needs a private venue for a reunion, hit us up. We have experience.

Yalla, bye—until the next adventure.