Hiking to Washington's Most Beautiful Glacier

This is Mount Baker, a 10,781-foot-tall volcano in the Pacific Northwest. It holds one of the largest collections of glaciers in the contiguous United States, with enormous rivers of ice flowing down from its summit. It really is a beautiful mountain, one that seems to change shape from every angle, and over the years it's become one of my favorite places to explore with my camera But despite how enduring a mountain like this might feel, Baker has been changing, its glaciers have been steadily retreating, the landscape I remember from years ago isn't quite the same. So today I'm heading back up a trail I haven't hiked in almost a decade to photograph one of Mount Baker's most impressive features, the Coleman Glacier, and to try and confront that change. Mount Baker is only about an hour away from my home in northwestern Washington, which feels pretty surreal. To have a mountain like this right in my backyard is something I don't think I'll ever take for granted. It's even better. The Coleman Glacier is one of the most accessible Glaciers in Washington, reachable via a fairly easy day hike. Alright, so we are here at the start of the Heliotrope Ridge Trail and we're gonna follow this winding trail through the forest for about two miles until we reach this huge mass of ice right here which is the Coleman Glacier and yeah I think there's gonna be some really really nice views right here because we're gonna be looking up towards the summit of of Mount Baker and yeah, I just... Couldn't be more excited. It's gonna be a really, really special day. It's been nearly 10 years since I last hiked this trail, which is kind of hard to believe. It makes me feel kind of old, but there's something really special about coming back to a place that you haven't seen in a while. In some ways it feels a bit like catching up with an old friend. You get to think back to the good old days and also think about how far you've come since. Of course, it's not just us that changes over time. This mountain has been changing too. Mount Baker is home to 11 named glaciers, making it the second most heavily glaciated mountain in the contiguous United States after Mount Rainier. But as temperatures warm, these glaciers have been steadily losing ice. Since the 1980s, the glaciers on this mountain have lost around 20% of their total area, And it's not looking like things will improve in the future. I've always loved looking at older pictures of this mountain back when the glaciers stretched further down towards the forest. It makes me romanticize about what visiting this place must have felt like back then, hence all the compositions and views that I'm missing out on today. And I guess that's a big reason why I brought my camera with me today, so years down the road I have photographs of my own to remember this place by. Alright, so just made it to what is typically quite an obstacle on this trail which is the first of three river slash stream crossings. Depending on the time of the year, this thing could just be like gushing rapids and the trail is over here on the other side, so yeah, spring and summer, pretty dangerous to cross just because there's so much melt off running through here, but right now it's really, really cold up the mountain, so no melt off, thus pretty much just a trickle, so should be pretty Pretty easy to make it to the other side. As we make our way out of the forest, the landscape starts to open up and we get our first glimpse of the Coleman and Roosevelt glaciers in the distance. The summit of Mount Baker is somehow still a mile above me, if that puts the scale of this mountain into perspective. But I think it's the views that come next that will really make the trek up here worth it. My God, what a incredible view. This is the Coleman Glacier. Coming down from the summit of Mount Baker up there, which is more than a mile above us. And this glacier here used to occupy all this space. I'm actually standing right now on the lateral moraine. That's the other lateral moraine over here and that's an indicator of how much this glacier has decreased in size over the years. Because it used to occupy this whole valley and then would have stretched even further downwards there. On the lateral moraine, I wanted to get a little closer to the glacier and see if I could get a better sense of its scale. As we climb higher, the terrain starts to change. The forest is long behind us now, replaced by loose rock and chiseled stone that makes every step a little more deliberate. It's a powerful feeling walking amidst a landscape like this. Knowing that the glacier has spent thousands of years shaping the mountain around us in places it feels like we're walking across ground that the ice may have only recently left behind with the bare rock revealing just how far the glacier once reached. Eventually, I found my way out to this rocky ledge overlooking the ice and standing here right above this enormous wall of ice. The scale of it is pretty difficult to wrap your head around. Wow guys, today has been so unbelievably special. I'm pretty lost for words, just this place is so incredibly beautiful. And even though it's been nearly 10 years since I last hiked up here, the glacier is visibly smaller than the last time that I visited this place. It's retreated quite a bit. There aren't as many huge towering seracs as I remember, and it's narrower in places. There's a lot more bare rock, a lot more places like I'm sitting right now where you can get close to the ice that we weren't able to see 10 years ago and even though it's crazy beautiful still it's a harsh reminder even though this landscape feels permanent it really isn't and i guess that's another reason why i'm really happy that i brought the 907x and 100c with me today because it's important to see and document places like this while we can because who knows what it's going to look like 10 years from now To be able to bring home these photographs from today, to be able to bring home this footage is something that I'm really going to cherish because 10 years from now, I'll be able to look back on this place and remember how it felt, remember what it looked like, and be able to have that for myself. As the afternoon starts to wind down, the temperature is dropping pretty quickly up here. I guess that's not too much of a surprise considering that I'm standing next to what is essentially a giant ice cube. But it's hard to want to leave here, especially as the shadows begin to grow longer with the fading daylight and the mountains somehow started looking even more imposing in the process. Eventually though, the only place to go was down in search of one last photograph at sunset. It was bittersweet to begin walking away from such a beautiful scene because it won't be the same the next time I'm here. Whether it's next year or 10 years from now, this place will change and I think I've always struggled with that. It's hard for me to accept change, especially when it's something that I have no control over. Part of me has always wanted to find a way to hold on to the things that matter most. Even when I know I can't keep them the way that they are. And I think that's what makes these photographs so meaningful to me. They're a way of holding on to a small piece of the past that would otherwise just become a memory. And hopefully when I look back at these images ten years from now, I'll remember what it felt like to stand here today, and how lucky I was to experience it. Thank you guys so much for watching, and I'll see you soon.