For the nine years Karen and I have hiked the Cascades, people have said, “You’ve got to see the Enchantments.” They’re a chain of blue lakes at elevations ranging from 6,800 and 7,800 feet beneath peaks in the Alpine Lakes Wilderness. Mountain goats roam among them.

    My 69^th birthday made me fear I’d never see them, because I struggle at elevations around 4,000 feet. Nevertheless, I got a three-day forest service permit. I wanted to casually say, “Oh yes, I’ve seen the Enchantments.”

    It wasn’t a casual trip, but I like challenges. I enjoyed it because I rested frequently and had a great partner. But age means lowering my expectations.   

    Our daughter Pam joined me. She volunteers to help participants climb mountains for Reach the Summit, a fundraiser for the American Lung Association of Oregon. Most climb to honor a friend or relative with lung disease. Pam’s an asthmatic who’s summited Mt. Hood and helped me summit Mt Adams 14 years ago. She also carried the tent and poles.

    My frequent rest stops under my 25-pound pack cut short plans to hike to Snow Lakes the first day. As I sucked in air, she snapped photographs of ridges, creeks and wildflowers such as lupine, bluebells, columbine and paintbrush. After six-and-a-half hours and 4,200 feet of elevation, we stopped at Nada Lake. We heard and saw fish jump to nab mosquitoes on that quiet green lake as the sun set on the peaks. 

    Our early stop meant we faced a 1700-foot elevation gain next day. The Enchantments were covered in mushy snow for which we had no equipment. A mostly melted Lake Viviane was all we’d see. I’d have to say, “Oh yes, I’ve seen an Enchantment.”

    I never doubted I’d make it until the first 400 feet of elevation. Cold in camp, I’d put on too much clothing. I stripped down, but quickly put them back on after I fell into lower Snow Lake crossing a narrow dam. When the slopes increased to climbing with our hands, rests increased. I chanted, Head up. Breathe from your abdomen, diaphragm and chest. Your legs are strong.

    Finally Pam said, “Can you see the waterfall? That’s it. Can you make that?”

    No, but I didn’t tell her. We both knew it was getting too late to return safely. Finally, gasping, dizzy, stumbling, with a pulse rate at 120, I quit. “Pam, you go on.”

    “Dad, when did you eat last?”

    “At the lake.” Two hours earlier.

    “What?  You have to eat every 45 minutes. You’re strong. If you’re dizzy, you need food. Eat this.”

    I squeezed the quick-energy gel down my throat and thought, I’m  a klutz.

    “And this fruit bar. It’ll kick in after 15-20 minutes. It’s cherry.”

    I didn’t taste cherry. I tasted cardboard boot-box.

    She scouted the route. “You can make it.”

    “OK, I can do this until 2:00.” And enjoy it, I said as my head cleared.

    At 1:39 I took a picture of her by the sign, Lake Enchantments.

    I felt no elation. The trip was far harder than I expected. I felt more limited.

Icy blue Viviane Lake with bright snow on a shoreline under granite spires and two mountain goats restored me. It took several days to recover. Pam said it was the hardest hike she’d ever been on, but loved it.

    I said, “I couldn’t have made it without you.”

    She said, “I’d never have done it without you.”

    Aging means picking great partners, setting realistic, but ever diminishing goals, and taking ever increasing rests to enjoy the journey.