The Wonderful Wonderland Trail Day 4: Is this a luxury hike?

Thursday August 21, 2025: Day 4

From Lake Mowich to the Golden Lakes

Despite lingering morning sickness, day 4 of the Wonderland Trail begins in a new way for me: singing with strangers in the backcountry. Packed and ready to go before 7:00 am, I notice a couple of college students moving around on the other side of the Mowich Lake campground. I come up to say happy trails and they insist that I sing the alma mater with them. Apparently this is their morning ritual. Half of them are still in their sleeping bags, but they show their faces to sing:

All hail the alma mater, the best it can be found!
The spirit of Westland, all hail Puget Sound!
Its guardian is the mountain by the silver sea.
We love you alma mater!
Everyone greets you, everyone greets you!

It feels surreal to sing about the guardian mountain while literally walking around it. It may be cheesy, but it lifts my spirits. I almost left camp, with the same smile from last night dancing on my face. Students walk clockwise, while I walk counterclockwise. We are ships that pass in the night, but I still feel invigorated by our brief encounter.

To Golden Lakes!

Today I have to walk 10 miles to the Golden Lakes campground. Many sources recommended this camp as one of the best on the entire tour. Still, I’ve heard reports that the five campsites are not the same. Camps #1-3 are located near the toilet, supposedly within olfactory distance. Campsites #4 and 5 are further away and offer beautiful views. Because of this discrepancy, I start walking early and intend to walk directly there and have lunch once I arrive. I hope to reserve a spot for the Texans if both «good» campsites are still available, for our last night together on the road.

The day begins with a 4 mile descent – 2400 feet to the South Mowich River. There the path across the riverbed was reportedly washed out by last week’s atmospheric river, so I expect some confusing navigation. This is followed by a 6 mile climb, although it looks well graded on the map.

Immediately after leaving the Mowich Lake campground, I return to the trees. At this time of morning, their shadows stretch across the dawn light. The sun has not yet risen on this side of the mountain. The ground is mossy and thick, with lichens and mosses growing on the sides of the trees.

The trees light up just when the sun hits them.

The descent begins slowly but quickly becomes steeper. This decline today is much steeper than the rise. The brush thickens noticeably the closer I get to the bottom, a sign of the elevation change. I start to face more spider webs. Fortunately, I quickly reach the valley and now face the junction I dreaded all morning.

The very long, wobbly bridge over the S. Mowich River.

South Mowich River

Today’s navigation challenge starts with the longest log bridge yet. High water and snow have clearly moved it over the years, tilting it to one side. The handrail tilts to the right, making it difficult to use for balance. As I cross, the log bounces noticeably on the fast-moving silty water.

This path leads nowhere.

Once crossed, the real fun begins. I try to follow the path, looking for milestones or pink flags, according to information from other hikers. I almost turn around when the trail leads to a drop-off, but a faint trail leads me on the right path. The closer I get to the S. Mowich River campground, the more evident the damage from the recent storm becomes. The path has become a new fork in the river, forcing me to choose between walking through the new stream or carefully navigating the thin, slippery, muddy bank.

This was the way. Now it is a silty stream.

Once past the camp, the trees disappear. The South Mowich River frequently changes paths here, leaving the river bed bare, muddy and full of slippery rock. I can see what was once an obvious, well-marked trail, now blocked by numerous obstacles.

Such a pretty, well marked river rock trail, completely blocked by fallen trees.

The marked path leads me to a dead end.

I have no choice but to pause. I look around to try to discern the most logical next step. The muddy ground shows many footprints coming and going from all directions, but one path has more than the rest. I open the FarOut app to confirm the GPS route. The route changes every year, so GPS is often not the most accurate way to find your way. But it’s certainly better than nothing. Sure enough, FarOut mostly matches the largest group of prints, so I follow it. I find more knocked down cairns, cross another fork on a questionable log bridge, and finally reach the other side.

Crossing the S. Mowich River. This path was a little better.

Phew. That was harder than I expected. I pause at the end of the 6 mile climb for a snack. That journey was a situation where it may be more helpful to travel with others, but it is incredibly rewarding to solve these problems alone.

As I begin to climb the slope, my mind wanders in an effort to distract myself from the long climb ahead. Meeting the group of university students makes me think: what would I say to them if I could? It’s been 20 years since I graduated from college. What would I have liked to have known then? As I climb the hill I couldn’t even physically have started 4 years ago, I realize what I wish a younger me knew: You are the biggest project you will ever work on, the biggest work of art you will ever make.

Some golden touches as I approach Golden Lakes.

I am the biggest and most important project I will ever work on.

Four years ago, my diagnosed phobia of nature confined me as a prisoner of my fear. I would never have hiked or camped alone. It never occurred to me that I could do it. I thought it was insecure, irresponsible and scary. My physical condition was next to none, I suffered from exercise-induced asthma and an endless stream of aches and pains. Yet here I am, four years older, running alone up a 6-mile incline to a campsite where I will sleep alone. My aches and pains are earned now, and the ones I used to experience (probably due to stagnation) are distant memories. Change is inevitable, so I decided to take charge of it and change myself for the better.

Realizing this is such a small, cheesy truth, but it hits me hard. The pride I feel in the fact that can Walking the Wonderland Trail is suddenly overwhelming. As I slowly climb the climb, I wipe away my tears. We work and work toward a goal, and it’s easy to lose sight of the big picture in favor of the small details. Today I fully feel the big picture. I’m here. I planned, I trained and now I am fulfilling this dream.

Incredible meadows near Golden Lakes.

Golden Lakes

The last kilometer of the climb levels out much more. The trail winds through golden meadows, giving greater meaning to the name Golden Lakes. I start passing a couple of small lakes just before I round a bend and see the Golden Lakes ranger cabin ahead.

I arrived at camp at 12:15 pm! Even with the confusing river crossing, I arrived sooner than I expected.

Campsite number 4 is already claimed, but the rest is empty. Campsite number 5 has a beautiful view, so I affirmed it and set up my tent quickly. (It turns out that the other three are closer to the toilet, but only number 1 seems to catch its scent.)

I change and carry my clothes to the main lake. The best place I find to take a dip is next to the ranger’s cabin. A spot beyond a large tree has rocks, making it easy to enter without sinking into the mud.

Slowly, I go down. The lake is cold, but not as cold as Mowich Lake yesterday. This lake is much smaller and not as deep, so the sun warms it more effectively. Immersing yourself completely feels absolutely refreshing. Today is the first warm day since day 1, so the cool temperature feels perfect. I stay and use my towel to clean myself completely. Then, I spend time thoroughly rinsing and wringing all the clothes that aren’t on my body (without soap, of course, so don’t leave a trace!).

My camp at Golden Lakes with all my clothes drying.

A day of luxury?

Once clean, I take everything to my camp. Between campsites 4 and 5, an incredible overlook, complete with a bench, serves as my lunch spot. The sun, right above, warms me after the cold water. I leave all my clothes on the bench, in the blueberry bushes, and on top of my tent. I sit and enjoy my lunch while looking at the view. It faces directly west, so I can see Puget Sound, the Olympic Mountains, and even a city or two. Behind me you can barely see one of Rainier’s peaks.

Golden Lakes is the closest point Wonderland hikers come to the park’s western boundary. From the bench, I see forest roads and recently cleared areas just a few kilometers away. It feels strange to be alone in the countryside and see civilization and development so close.

Olympic Mountains, Puget Sound and civilization.

I spend the afternoon on the bench, reading my book and letting my clothes dry. There’s little point in hiking and spending such a luxurious afternoon: swimming, lunch with a view, reading in the sun. This truly feels like the most luxurious long-distance hike I’ve ever done.

One of Mount Rainier’s many peaks looms above the overlook.

The day culminates with a final dinner with the four Texans at their camp. Tonight is our last night at the same place. Although we have just met, the conversation flows, diving into even more difficult topics. Along the way, these things seem to flow more easily and openly.

I stare at the last rays of the setting sun on the bank’s viewing platform before climbing up to my tent, even more convinced of the true magic of this trail and place.

Daily statistics

Miles traveled: 10
Elevation gained/lost: 2500 won / 2550 lost
Hiking Epiphanies: 1
Stand out: My luxurious afternoon reading in the sun with views
low light: The confusing S. Mowich crossing (and sunburn from reading in the sun!)

Sunset from the Golden Lakes viewpoint.