Illabot Creek Road is also Forest Road 16. However, there is no sign telling you this until about the 10-mile mark, where the road reaches a Y and Forest Road 16 continues left. Be sure to stay on Forest Road 16. There is also an unmarked intersection at about the 6.2-mile mark. At the intersection’s hairpin turn, continue around the turn and to the left.

The thought of 20 miles of gravel road may leave one wondering about not only your rig’s suspension, but your kidneys as well. Granted, there are some good size holes along the road. For the most part, however, the single-lane road and its turnouts are in good shape.

Along the way, there are several clearings at which to stop, get out, stretch your legs and gander at the Skagit Valley below. The black ribbon that is State Route 20 can be seen twisting its way along, and peaks, including those atop Washington Pass can be seen in the distance. Along the way, there are several streams boasting picturesque waterfalls and small plunge pools.

This time of the year, leaves are beginning to turn, painting hillsides in reds, oranges, browns and yellows. It won’t be long until there won’t be a green leaf hanging. That also means it won’t be long until snow blankets the area.

If you reach a good-sized, built-to-last bridge spanning Otter Creek, then you have gone about 50 feet past the trailhead.

Distance: 2.5 miles

Destination: Slide Lake

Difficulty: Easy

Elevation gain: 300 feet

Getting there: From the town of Rockport on State Route 20, turn east on State Route 530. Drive 2.5 miles. Turn left on Illabot Creek Road. Take the gravel logging road 20.5 miles to the trailhead.

The Trek: Find the trailhead to the right of a sign. Hop over a small stream and hit the trail. Wind your way through a mass of rocks before reaching the trail register. Sign the register and continue to climb over rocks and roots.

A carpet of green covers just about everything, trees and rocks alike. Continue to climb as the trail levels out and becomes a more foot-friendly spongy mixture of mud and pine needles. Venture through a gap that has a boulder on one side and a large tree on the other. The roar of Otter Creek, a constant companion up until this point, slowly fades.

Make your way past a boulder the size of a house and drop into a small ravine before trekking up the other side. That high-pitched squeak heard every now and then is the vocalization of chipmunks, warning each other of your arrival. This rocky area is the perfect home for such creatures.

Two gigantic Douglas fir trees stand just off the beaten path. The trail narrows as it continues. Two trees growing mere feet apart means one must squeeze between the two in order to continue.

Chunks of granite of various sizes and shapes litter the area. In the past, massive rock slides have rolled down from high above, smashing everything in their path.

In fact, Slide Lake gets its name from just such an incident. When a slide blocked Otter Creek hundreds of years ago, the water that collected behind the wall of rock eventually formed the high-mountain lake.

Hop over downed timber and numerous large rocks. Make your way around a cut cedar tree. The trail narrows and becomes muddy for a short stretch.

As the trail becomes drier, one encounters a massive downed cedar tree. Its size is jaw-dropping. After it fell five years ago, several good-sized chainsaws were used to clear a path.

The downed tree is an impressive sight. So much so that those who cut it into pieces left their calling card on the single, kitchen table-sized round that was cut from the tree’s girth. Boldly carved into the wood round is “Trail Crew ’03.”

A short distance from the fallen behemoth and about a mile from the trailhead, a sign proclaims the entrance to Glacier Peak Wilderness.

From atop a small incline, take in the view of a small meadow below. During periods of heavy rainfall, this meadow succumbs to run-off and becomes a pond. To the east is another jumble of boulders, remnants of yet another rock slide.

From this vantage point, climb over a log and skirt around the meadow’s north end, venturing through the tail end of the slide. After making your way through the field of rock, one gets a glimpse of Slide Lake through the trees.

Reaching a fork, head left. Going right leads onto the mass of rocks responsible for Slide Lake. Below the jumbled heap, numerous logs rest in the silt.

With each step, the lake comes more into view. Navigate around more rocks and trees. This area resembles a blast zone. There are shattered trees and rocks everywhere.

Reach a spur trail that departs the main trail to the right and leads to the lake’s shoreline. One can take this trail or continue on the main trail to get access at the lake’s midpoint or beyond. I chose to take the spur trail, then hoof it around the lake’s shoreline.

After a bit of bushwacking, break out onto the banks of Slide Lake. At the time of this writing, the water level was much lower than usual. Then again, it was early fall. Rocks and logs litter the shoreline. Venturing out onto a bluff, pick a boulder to sit upon, kick back and relax.

Slide Lake’s waters are gin-clear and cold — the true definition of a high-mountain lake.

Late in the day, small rings formed on the lake’s surface as what appeared to be rainbow trout rose slightly from the depths in order to slurp in an unsuspecting insect. One hungry trout even rose and devoured a piece of sandwich crust.

Towering high above the lake’s east end is Snowking Mountain. The snowy peak’s reflection shimmers in the water.

Venturing down to the water’s edge, there were numerous tracks — including those left by a bear. Following the tracks, it’s clear the bear traipsed along practically the entire west side of the lake. Eventually, the tracks head into the woods.

Walking along the shoreline, it’s easy to understand why high mountain lakes such as this are such a big draw. The serenity of the lake and the enormity of the surrounding peaks leaves an enduring portrait.

Continuing along the lake’s north side, you eventually wind up at the west end. Snowking Mountain seemingly stares directly down at you. A roaring Otter Creek enters the lake here. The creek’s waters, white and frothy from the rapid churning, are quickly engulfed by the lake’s serenity.

At this point, simply retrace your steps back to the trail and set off for the rig.