"It's like heaven up at High Camp now," she says with a wide smile. "You folks are going to get in some great skiing this weekend."

As we reach the end of the plowed road, we're greeted by Jacob and Daniel, wild-haired 22-year old twins from Austria who haul our gear by snowmobile the last mile to camp. I've convinced my three travel companions to trek the last stretch, the crunch of snow underfoot, through a landscape of frosted forests and snow-covered glades sparkling under brilliant skies.

Here and there, the tracks of a lone skier gracefully arc through otherwise untracked meadows. It's enough to make any skier delirious with anticipation.

It's my first trip to Scottish Lakes, a unique backcountry camp tucked high into the high country halfway between the town of Leavenworth and Stevens Pass. Friends had told me how High Camp, only two hours from the Seattle-Everett area, felt far removed from the crowds and hassles of everyday life, a uniquely rustic base offering access to miles of ski trails and ungroomed backcountry terrain.

Finding a last-minute cancellation for one of the cabins, I jumped at the chance to see it for myself.

There's good reason for High Camp's popularity, due largely to word-of-mouth advertising and dedicated guests that return year after year. Perched on the east slopes of the Cascades at nearly 5,000 feet, it sees plenty of snow and far more sun than the west side of the mountains. Even this year, with snowpack running about 60 percent of normal, Hanson said skiers are finding plenty of fresh, untracked powder. And with more than 24 miles of marked routes ranging in difficulty from beginner to advanced, it's easy to find a trail or two for your own, even on the most popular weekends.

The camp itself, which can accommodate up to 40 people, is little more than a mini-village huddled under forest of pine and fir. Since acquiring the camp with two other friends in 1994, Chris and her husband, Don Hanson, a former school principal, have made many improvements, adding a wood-fired hot tub, the main lodge, a sauna, and additional cabins.

Yet it's still a uniquely no-frills place, lacking plumbing or electricity. Cabins are small and simple, including beds, a wood stove for heat, propane stoves and lanterns. A spring provides water, which is hauled up to each cabin in plastic jugs.

After unpacking our gear, we're eager to get in a few hours out on the trail. My group is split between telemarkers and cross-country skiers, although the High Camp is also popular with backcountry alpine skiers and snowboarders.

We slap on our skis for the climb up to Glacier Viewpoint on the gentle, well-tracked High Country Trail, one of many that provide short loops from camp. From here, experienced skiers looking for more serious turns can take full-day trips to the open slopes of McCue Ridge or Mount Baldy in the nearby Alpine Lakes Wilderness. We're content to laze in the warm afternoon sun and enjoy the views across the valley below and snowy peaks stretching into the distance.

After lollygagging too long under waning sunlight, we're forced to end our day with a beeline down "Wild Bill Hill," plunging down a steep, open slope into camp. Behind me, screams of "Yeeaaaww!" echo off the trees as I watch my friends careen uncontrollably down the hill.

By the end, warming up around our cabin's wood stove, we're all battered and tired but get a good laugh out of the experience.

At night, a full moon in a crisp, cloudless sky casts a soft glow over camp, glittering off the snow. We make our way to the main lodge, a place to gather and swap stories from a day of skiing, grab a warm drink by the wood stove, or play board games. On Saturday nights, the lodge comes alive as guests gather for a potluck, to share a meal in a fun family atmosphere.

"Say, saw you guys had quite a ride down Wild Bill Hill today," says twin Jacob, poking fun and pointing at my friend's two ski poles bent like half-pretzels. "Don't worry, you're not the only ones."

It's obvious that many guests are long-time friends -- some have even tied the knot here.

"We've had four weddings in the past year at High Camp, including my own son," Don Hanson said. "Others have been coming back for over 15 years, long before we were even here."

While High Camp is best known for its skiing, there's plenty here for others. Our second day out, we decide to ski and snowshoe to Lake Julius, cradled in a forested valley surrounded by high peaks in the Alpine Lakes Wilderness. Hanson said snowshoeing and snowboarding are catching on as alternatives to skiing.

High Camp is also becoming increasingly popular in the fall, when hikers use the camp as a base for trips into the high alpine terrain, following trails across slopes carpeted by golden larch trees.

Before leaving Sunday morning, we're able to get in a few last turns, some time on the kid-popular sled hill, or a quiet walk in the woods. Reluctantly, we wave goodbye to guests and hosts, catching our ride back to the cars.

We leave the sun behind as we descend the road into the clouds below, already thinking about next year.

Dave Wortman is a Seattle freelance writer and photographer. He can be reached at dewortman@earthlink.net.

If you go...

Getting there: The road to High Camp is a two-hour drive east of Everett and 17 miles east of Stevens Pass on U.S. 2. You'll park just off the highway, and unless you want to ski the eight miles, you can catch a ride up the mountain by truck, snow-cat or snowmobile.