The hiking trail at Diablo Lake is a devil to find

Before Lia started at work, she wanted to take one last day trip. So we scoured the internet, and found what appeared to be a stunningly emerald-colored lake just a few hours drive away from Dad's house. So we went to check it out.

Before we could get there though, we had to drive through some of Washington's stunning scenery — specifically, North Cascades National Park. We even stopped at the visitor center so Lia could get a patch. 

The pair of us adore the old-school suspension bridges that dot the Pacific Northwest, so as I was in charge of driving, I pulled over (very suddenly) so we could take some pictures around one.

The water in the area is such a vivid, brilliant color because it's glacial runoff water. The area's surrounding glaciers — it is very close to Canada, after all — grind rocks into a fine powder, according to Wikipedia, and its those suspended rock particles that give the rock its awesome color. It's also very cold, as it is glacial runoff.

It wasn't the only bridge that we stopped at though. Even this less architecturally aesthetic bridge had some stunning, sweeping views of the water as we got closer to the dam, and the lake. 

When we arrived at the lake itself, we began to look for parking for the trail that we'd planned on hiking. The main road around the outside was narrow and windy, so it was tough to spot any potential turnoffs. We found a road down to, and scarily, across the dam, and a parking lot next to the lake, and a path in the opposite direction, into the woods, labelled "Lake Diablo Trail."

I balanced on a log to take a pretty photo. 

An hour's wander and a frustrated conversation with fellow confused hikers later, and we decided that the trail didn't exist. It only looped into the forest before ending at some private cabins and an electricity company property. So we hopped back in the car, inched back across the dam, and trawled along the main road once again, looking for another entrance to a slightly more scenic trail.

We found another trail (the Thunder Knob trail, which just couldn't be missed) and, now short on time, practically sprinted up the hill. Sprinted for a person wearing skinny jeans and converse anyway, as Lia was.

Passing French Canadian hikers left and right as we powered up the steep hillside, we stopped to take few photos, and prayed that the view at the top would be worth it.

It was.