Fallen Into Knowledge

Well, I again went to find and explore the Bull of the Woods Wilderness, and this time met with success. I spent two nights and 30 miles discovering how rugged this piece of Oregon is, gazing at the enormous trees, and being eaten by the ferocious mosquitos. Here are some Pics:

I went today with a group from the church to Dog Mountain. It was a zoo - really, there must have been neighborhoods in Portland that were desolate. BUT, all the wildflowers were in full bloom, which was spectacular. Really. Look for yourself!

I went looking for the Bull of the Woods wilderness, and found snow. I actually didn’t get anywhere close to the wilderness. I was stymied by snow after driving 10 miles up a gravel road, and then continued walking for several more, all in search of the pristine old growth forests - some of the last still standing in western Oregon. I didn’t quite make it, but at least got to eat lunch in the wild:

I also discovered that I can, in fact, sleep in the back of my station wagon. If I lie diagonally. Barely.

Went for a hike today, on Larch Mountain.  A perfect day for a hike.  So perfect, in fact, that I think I’ll take another Monday.

Emmigrant Lake, from todays drive to Ashland.  Ashland is one of my favorite towns.

Okay, so here’s the story so far:

Yesterday evening, I sat basking in the prospects of a free weekend.  I wanted to get away, but I really didn’t want to spend the whole weekend cold.  Since I couldn’t think of anywhere I could go backpacking that would be even remotely warm, I ruled that out.

Then I had an idea:  Perhaps I could make use of my parents’ Worldmark connections.  I IM’ed my mom, to see if I could book a room, anywhere in the NW, for the next night, Friday.  I figured that wherever I could get a room, that’s where I’d go. I could be anywhere between Seattle and Kalamath Falls the next night; what sort of adventure I had would be shaped by where I got a room.

I am in Kalamath Falls.  Today I drove to Bend, had a burger and beer at the Bend brewing company, explored downtown Bend and Drake park while lunch settled, and then headed for the hills above LaPine. Tomorrow I will either spend the day in Ashland, or I will drive back up the coast on 101.  Depending on how I feel in the morning.

Some advenures work best when treated like “choose your own adventure” novels.

For the second year running, Brendon and I hiked around Mt. Hood, this time taking just under 48 hours to hike the 43 miles of it. Light and fast. Even though we were truckin’ along, we found that the light weight of our packs made the trip more enjoyable. We also discovered that going counter-clockwise around the mountain was preferable for us than clockwise.
The Hike was beautiful, of course. But don’t take my word for it, go look at the pictures

Over the weekend, Brendon and I hiked the Timberline Trail, which circumnavigates Mt. Hood.  We started about 6pm Thursday night, met Brendon’s wife, Annie, and her friend, Carole, at Timberline Lodge Saturday for lunch (3/4 of the way around for us) and then the four of us continued back to Ramona Falls, where we started.  We finished by mid afternoon Sunday.  The first night, after hiking eight miles uphill (by headlight, toward the end) I was not feeling so well, and had to tell Brendon, “I’m done hiking tonight, we are stopping here.”  Fortunately we were near a couple of great sites.
Friday we hiked around half of the mountain, covering about 16 miles.  A few hundred yards from where we were planning on having lunch it was Brendon’s turn, “we are stopping here for lunch.”  We climbed to our highest elevation on the mountian, 7300 ft., and we had burnt through breakfast’s calories - and then some.  It always amazes me how much the elevation affects me, I don’t feel like drinking water or eating, and always feel slightly sick to my stomach.  It was great to enjoy eating again after we dropped down below 5000 ft for dinner.  After lunch we dropped from 7300 ft. to 4800 ft., where we would camp for the night.  We were told by another hiker that there was a great campsite right next to Nicholl creek, below Gnarl Ridge, and as I climbed out of the creek I saw the campsite he described.  It was perfect.  I took two more steps and saw a tent already there.  The two middle age ladies (doing the same hike we were) pointed out a nearly hidden site nearby, for which we were extremely thankful.  At that point it was dusk, and we were done walking for the day.  Our site was very workable.
Saturday morning we broke camp about 7am, and had 8 miles to hike before noon, at which point we would meet the ladies.  we were also pulled by the promise of a burger and a beer at the lodge for lunch.  Hiking food tends to consist of food that one cooks by boiling in water:  oatmeal, pasta, rice.  High calorie, low weight; but it gets old quickly.  The burger beckoned.   Unfortunately, because we had to rush, we could not stop and really take in the terrain between Nicholl Creek and Mt. Hood Meadows, which was spectacular.
After lunch the four of us set out for Paradise Park, which is aptly named.  A cool six miles, but by then both Brendon and my knees and hips were pretty sore from huffing 60 pound packs around the mountain, so the descent into Zigzag canyon ad the immediate ascent out again was harsh.  We were aided again by some friendly hikers in finding what might have been the last available site in Paradise Park.  I did not expect that the Park would be as crowded as it was.  I was wrong.  Despite the cooler weather that night, all agreed that Paradise Park was awesome.
Sunday we had about  miles to hike back to the car, all of which was downhill.  So, other than the knees, the hike was pretty laid back.
This was my second try for Timberline trail (I got food poisoning on my first attempt), and it was all I had hoped for.

Its Spring Break!

Adam McInturf and I went backpacking in the Trinity-Alps, in Northern California (or, as some would have it, southern Cascadia). Perhaps it would be better if I said “we attempted to go backpacking.”
We drove down on Monday, got our wilderness permit and hit the trail. In the rain. By the time we made camp for the night we were both thoroughly wet. But our gear was mostly dry and so in not-yet damp spirits we got in the tent. After all, the pictures of the lakes to which we were heading looked spectacular. About the time we decided that it would be good to break out the stove and fix dinner and tea, I noticed that the ground was starting to look white. It snowed constantly through the night that first night, and we did not manage to get any drier.
Morning on the second day we decided to head for the nearest town, Weaverville, where we hoped to consult the Rangers to see where else (with a lower elevation) we might explore within the Trinity-Alps wilderness, and also to find a laundry-mat to dry out our gear. The laundry-mat idea turned out to be a stroke of brilliance, we were dry in no time; the Ranger, on the other hand, was less than encouraging. So we headed north toward Lake Shasta, looking for drier climes, swinging by Redding on the way so as to visit the nearest IN-N-OUT for dinner.
After dinner, which was excellent as one might expect, we noticed two things: first, we were running from a mess of black clouds; and, second, we were losing. Also, we were running low on daylight. So we quickly found the first place to camp that didn’t cost us any money: Down by the railroad tracks, somewhere off the highway near lake Shasta. We both felt like characters from a John Steinbeck novel. It rained on us through the second night also, letting up only as if to tease us.
Morning Three: not as wet as before, but our spirits were dampened considerably, so we headed to Ashland to explore. We set up in Lithia park: The stage of the amphitheater was the driest spot we could find that we could set up the tent to let it air out while we ate lunch. Picture this, two guys a bunch of gear and a tent, set up on the stage of an otherwise empty amphitheater, cooking. Needless to say we attracted the attention of the local law enforcement.
The Ashland police officer proved to be quite understanding once we assured him that we were not settling down for the night there on stage, even going so far as suggesting some camping spots for the night. We chose to not take him up on the offer; we, seeing the persisting black rain clouds, decided that we had enough with getting wet and drove home.
But not before exploring Ashland, and not before I found a couple of books at Ashland’s many fine used-book emporiums. Alas, our backpacking trip did not have much in the way of backpacking. But it was an adventure; and any adventure where one both both lives and does not get arrested is a success in my book. Plus, just think of all the great stories I can not ramble on about.
Oh, by the way, I wrote this post from my reading chair, typing on my new 15” PowerBook, which I bought the day after we got back - and which I think is pretty neat.

Today I ran my first half marathon. Good for me. The only hellish part of the run was running up Terwilliger. Who thought that was a good idea? Anyhow, it feels good to be sore.