Editor’s note: Since publication, it was brought to our attention that flooding has closed Highway 2 long term, limiting access to this location. Please check current conditions before planning a visit.

This is the quietest place I’ve been in a long time, I think, as I stand alone in the snow. 

Just off Highway 2, a stone’s throw as the crow flies from Stevens Pass, there’s a magical spot in the woods. Tiny cabins with wood stoves, an endless supply of firewood, and a quaint sauna with a freezing cold plunge next door make up Alpine Lakes High Camp. For those who want to go off grid (there’s no electricity here) and connect with nature, this is the place to be.

Alpine Lakes High Camp has been around since 1978, but its new owners, Travis Cowan and Tom Shelstad, only took over at the beginning of this year. Their mission is “to create a space where adventurers can connect with the wild and with each other.” These values align perfectly with my family, so we headed up on an early December weekend. 

Afternoons at the cabin are for puzzles, good food, and losing track of time.

Photo by David Gladish

The journey got off to a (literally) rough start. To access the cabins in winter, you must use a snowcat, a behemoth machine with giant tracks and a snowplow. Because the season’s snowpack had a slow start, the road was anything but smooth, and we could feel every bump and pothole along the way. As usual, our 5- and 4-year-olds took it in stride, and once we got to the cabins an hour later, we were in paradise.

The cabins, including our Trillium, have lofts, bunk beds, a table, and a place to cook. Gas lanterns turn on with a flick of a lighter, and the woodstove was already roaring when we arrived. Shortly after, we headed to the shared cabin, a much larger space, where Travis and Tom were preparing the pizza oven for a communal feast. Eleven guests, Tom, and Travis—along with his 7-year-old daughter—each got a hunk of dough, shipped from New York. We prepared our pizzas one at a time, slid them into the oven, and soon found ourselves opening up to our new friends, sharing stories about our lives as we tucked into some really good slices of pizza. 

My family has spent a lot of time in cabins, and one thing we love is losing track of time. Sleep comes easily by the crackling fire and the pitter-patter of snow (or rain!) on a metal roof. No alarms need to be set at a place like this. 

Our weekend unfolded the way winter weekends in the woods should—sledding with the kids, making snowmen, building snow caves, and having snowball fights. My wife, Kristy, and I took turns heading out on backcountry skis while the other stayed back with the kids, cruising around logging roads and mellow nearby slopes. When we got tired, we took naps, or whipped up good food—the kind of things you do without a TV or cell service. 

A cold plunge that lives up to its name.

Photo by David Gladish

On the evening of our second day, my wife and I took turns in the sauna after braving the cold plunge, which literally had ice floating on the surface. One of the nice things about High Camp is how flexible it is. You can keep to yourself, or you can make it social. It was fun to interact with other guests while sledding or passing someone on the way to the outhouse, knowing we could always retreat to the confines of our cabin when we wanted. We could not, however, escape our kids—at least not this time. 

On our final morning, at the top of Wild Bill Hill, I stopped in my tracks and listened. Below me, my wife and kids were safe and sound in a little cabin in the woods. Around me were endless trees covered in fresh snow, and above me, big fat snowflakes fell softly onto my face. I let a quiet prayer out into the universe, thankful for where I was and for the opportunity to be in such a beautiful place. 

Alpine Lakes High Camp has that effect. It makes an agnostic man sing praises to the sky. It warms the soul and lets connection—to nature and to the people around you—feel simple, just like the mission statement promises.