Linton Falls

It is now October and thank goodness for that. The weather has changed where the mornings are cool and the days are still warm. The fires are smoldering and cleanup is happening rapidly. I have a chance to get out for a morning and see some sights. I get up early to get a quick start on the day. Jacqueline just got stung by a yellow jacket the day before when we were out for a walk. Actually, all three of us who were out for the walk, Jacqueline, Conrad, and myself got stung. I was the only one who did not swell up, though. Jacqueline's foot looks like a football and she is constantly bothered by it. So she is not going to join me, but has a plan to go into town later. That means that I have a window to do a short hike. I pick Linton Lake with the goal of actually making it up to see Linton Falls. When I look up information online about Linton Falls, some sources say that it is the second highest waterfall in Oregon. Here it is right in my backyard, but I haven't gone there. The fall is really a race against time to get out and see these places before 242 gets shut down. I leave early and when I arrive at the trailhead, the only cars that are there are people who have stayed the night before. The hike in is cool and I am wearing a long sleeve for the first time in a while hiking.

The air is cool and a bit damp, but the weather is great. Along the way, fall colors are starting to come out on much of the hike. I put in the requisite couple of miles which brings me to Linton Lake. There is one tent there from the night before which is the only sign of other people so far. The lake is lower than I have ever seen it. It is amazing how far it is down from the overflowing fullness of a June hike out to Linton Lake. From here it is a combination of route finding and bushwhacking. There is a faint trail that leads off from here, but actually there seem to be a multitude of faint trails. All of them hug the shoreline of the lake with some going higher up through the burned forest than others. Sometimes I pick the correct one and sometimes I don't, but the most correct one seems to be the one that stays closest to the lake until you get to what some people use as a campsite near the inlet.

Here I should have charged straight up the hill side, but the path looks better the other way. This leads me to a secondary trail that will eventually head up the hill side, but closer to the water course. This leaves me with a pretty steep section that requires some bushwhacking to get over to the main visitor use trail. Once I am on this, it is just a short walk to the first waterfall. This one is amazing! It falls about 80 feet with a spectacular view of it from the trail. It is one of the best waterfalls in Oregon and here I was neglecting it. This is quite a beauty. I wondered what the second one was like. I continued up the hill. This time the trail is much easier to find until the waterfall comes into view.

Then I just kind of charge forward finding pieces of a trail as I do so until I am in the stream course proper. Here I carefully pick my way through until I am at the base of a massive waterfall. This one is not quite as spectacular as the first as it falls in a series of drops, but still quite awesome. The great part about it is that I am right at the base of this one and negotiating some fairly slippery spots in the creek, I am able to access the waterfall really close up. It does not get too much better being close up, though, so I head back and sit on a log to enjoy it for a bit. Then it is back down. The trail is much easier to find on the way down. It seems like no time at all and I am back at Lower Linton Falls, which I find more impressive than the upper falls. I snap a few more pictures than continue down the trail making mental notes along the way because I know I have to bring the family back. This is a shorter hike without any major obstacles. I knew they had to see it. So two weeks later, we were back making the trek to Linton Lake. Jacqueline gets a bit nervous about going off in directions unknown, so my confidence in the route helped her feel more comfortable with doing the hike.

Jacqueline seemed to be just as impressed with the fall colors that were now starting to disappear at higher elevations, but everyone did great getting to the waterfalls. We all enjoyed them and the hiking was not too difficult. As always, the hike made me wonder what was above the falls that we saw. I wondered if there was a route that one could take where I could follow Linton Creek all the way back to its source by the PCT trail. This was something for another day and another time as fall was not the right time to make a trip like this happen. I was thoroughly impressed by Linton Falls, enough so to bring people back only two weeks later. I am sure that it will be visited frequently from this point forward.

Scott Mountain Loop

It was a Sunday in October and it was actually right after our 15th anniversary, so the wife and kids and I had to go out to find some fall colors. I chose the Scott Mountain Loop up on 242. We drove up there and got to the Scott Lake Trailhead. When we read the sign, it said we needed a permit to hike the trail from this location. We did not have requisite permit, so we drove a mile down the road and parked at the Hand Lake Trailhead instead. Here we talked to another guy who was visiting here from Colorado. We gave him some info on the trail and then we were off on our merry little way. He was a nice guy and it was great to have someone enjoying the outdoors on his day off. I hiked this trail before, but Jacqueline and the kids had never hiked the whole thing.

The beginning of the trail was through the woods. Jacqueline was immediately disappointed with the variety of fall colors. Given that most of the fall colors at this altitude were low lying shrubs, it sort of made sense, but this was the best that we could do. The trail was nice and we were right behind our new friend from Colorado when we saw him turn the wrong way at Hand Lake. He was too far away for us to stop him, so we just hoped that he would find the trail again. Hand Lake was lower than I ever saw it. There was just a bit of water making it look more like an almost dry pond than a lake. The trail was nice and flat at this point and the weather was great as we hiked right next to a lava flow.

From here, we started to climb. This put us into the burned area which was in much better shape then when I had run through there with Corey. The downed trees were all bucked and cleared. This made for pleasant hiking and while we never got into really thick foliage, fall was still apparent with many different stages of dying leaves all around us. We climbed and climbed until we made it to the junction for Scott Mountain. Here again, we climbed and climbed until we topped out. The view was amazing. The only other time I had been to the top of Scott Mountain, it was very cold and wet. This time it was perfect weather with 360 degree views all around us. This was definitely a spot for Jacqueline to take an excessive amount of pictures.

There were no other groups on top when we got there, but as we ate lunch, a few started to come in. There was one group with some friendly dogs which Conrad was not too happy about. We ate some lunch, took some pictures, and really just absorbed the scenery. It would be months before we could come back to these high elevations again, so we had to enjoy it while the opportunity existed. Then it was back down the trail. From here we had to go back to the junction for Scott Mountain and then continue on to the right. This took us downhill and eventually it put us right at Benson Lake. There was another couple hanging out at the lake, so we could not be too obnoxious. It did have some of the best skipping rocks and with some nice flat water, we all impressed each other with our ability to skip a rock.

Then we continued down the trail to Scott Lake. The lake was lower than I had ever seen it. There were still lots of people around camping and hanging by the lake. We continued on the trail which took us right past it and then was back in the woods. The total distance on the hike was something like 12 miles, but since we were all in great shape it didn't really feel like we were pushing ourselves. It just turned out to be a very enjoyable day in the woods of the Oregon Cascades.

 

Yapoah Crater

It was my half birthday and I need to get a hike in. The weather was not cooperating, but this was my day, so it was time to make it happen. I had been wanting to go up Yapoah Crater since last summer and after walking by it on the PCT it renewed my interest. This was a day when a long hike would mean exposure to wet weather all day. So Yapoah Crater it was. The trail out to Yapaoh Crater was the Scott Trail which went right by the Four in one Cones. I should have realized I was in for it when the trailhead was almost completely abandoned except for one other car. At first the weather started out good, but it changed rather quickly into a blustery, rainy day. I had researched Yapoah Crater last summer when Conrad and I went to Yapoah Lake. Ya-po-ah was the Kalapuya Indians name for Skinner Butte which is located in Eugene. It means the High Place. 

I liked that. So my goal was to make it to the High Place today. I followed the trail until it took me to  the PCT. I did not stay on the PCT long, but did head north for a short stretch. I went to about the highest place that I could find and then headed out to the woods. The route took me uphill and eventually I ran into a trail. This took me past one challenging obstacle, but mostly it was just hiking uphill. The terrain was a bit challenging but nothing too difficult. The goal was to make the ridge and head north from there. I picked my route carefully and soon I was topping out on the ridge. This is where the wind really picked up. I was staying on the west side of the ridge to avoid the big winds, but there were times when I had to top out. Given that this was the highest thing around, the winds had nothing to stop there path and they were tremendous. When I finally got to the base of the peak on the ridge, I considered turning around. It was sort of foolishness but I was here, might as well finish the trip. I started up the rocky slope. Here, it was just volcanic rock as Yapoah Crater is one of the youngest features in Oregon being only a few thousand years old. The wind whipped as I tried to keep my balance charging up the steep volcanic slopes until I hit the crater proper. It was hard to tell what was the high point of the crater, so I decided to just circumnavigate the entire summit. The wind and the rain just whipped at we coming out of the west. All my clothes were pointing east as the wind tried to rip them from my body. This would have been a great day to wear rain pants as I was soaked from the waist down. My rain jacket kept my upper portion dry, but the rest of me was nice and soaked. I kept my balance the entire way across the summit. I can't say the view was spectacular and I did not have the energy to take pictures for long. I quickly made my way back down, happy to be out of the driving wind and rain. Following the ridge and steep slope down was relatively easy. Soon I was back on the PCT and then the Scott Trail. The hike back was a piece of cake except for the fact that I was a little chilly. As long as I kept moving, I did not get cold. Besides, this weather was great for finishing off the fires. Nothing like a good soaking to cool the flames as this would mark the end of fire season in Oregon. I am not going to lie, I also enjoyed the hike a little more in the weather. There was literally nobody out there except for me and it made what would have probably been a fairly easy scramble a little bit more exciting. It turned out to be a great day even in the driving wind and rain.
 

Berley Lakes

Saturday and school had begun. That meant that I would probably get one day to get out and go hiking. I thought that I should definitely take that. As usual it was still quite warm down low, so I headed up the road to Santiam Pass. Conrad and I hiked into Santiam Lake from Duffy Lake in June and I figured I would hike to it from the other direction. I was back on the PCT again to start out. It was amazing how easy the elevation change seemed without a heavy backpack on my back. The area was so dry and I was lucky today because the smoke was pushing off in a different direction smoldering from the Lookout Fire. The PCT took me uphill until I took the trail to the left that would lead me to Santiam Lake. Once I was on the trail, I knew that I had been there before.

The last time I had hiked this, though, was many years ago in May when there was still a significant amount of snow on the ground. I also did not have my GPS watch, so at some point, I just lost the trail and scrambled around on the little hills for a bit. This time, there was no issue with snow and I hiked the trail right to Santiam Lake. I stopped at the same spot Conrad and I had stopped at. The lake was lower and much warmer than the last time I had made it there. After a bite, I was heading down the trail. I saw on my watch that there was an old trail that led to Lower Berley Lake. I decided to take it. It was obvious that people went this way, but I would not describe it as an official trail. It was not too difficult to find, though, and so I was on the shores of a beautiful lake.

There was one campsite by the lake and I decided to take a dip. The water was much cooler than Santiam Lake but very refreshing. I brought swimming shorts and a freezer size ziploc bag for this exact purpose. I got myself changed back to hiking clothes and then I decided to try to find Upper Berley Lake. This took a bit of bushwhacking as there were some pseudo trails in places, but the quickest way was to go through the trees. Here was an amazing lake with a great view of Three Fingered Jack. I imagine if I came out here in the summer time, I would still have the place all to myself. This would be a great place to camp and just hang out at the lake all day with the kids.

From here, I found what used to be an official trail complete with signs that probably had been there for 50 plus years. This trail took me to the far side of Lower Berley Lake which had a fantastic view also. I continued on the trail and at times it was faintly still present and at other times it was required for me to hop some blowdowns in the burnt section of trail. Eventually, though, it sent me right back to the trail. Here I ran into a student of mine with his family. Always a little bit awkward, but they were nice people. The rest of the way back to the car, I listened to the Husky game as I had good enough service to get the game. They were creaming Tulsa, so not much of a game to listen to, but still fun since it was my team that was winning. I made it back to the car having seen something new and a pretty enjoyable Saturday if I should say so myself.

Tahkenitch Creek and Siltcoos Lake

 We were all so sick of smoke and fire. The two fires less than 10 miles as the crow flies from our house had been burning for two months almost now. Everyday we had to wake up and figure out what to do with where the smoke was today. The kids and I were running for cross country and some days that would mean that we had to go early before the smoke settled down and other days it would mean we would  have to wait for it to leave. Either way, it was not healthy to have to fill your lungs with wildfire smoke every day, so we needed a break. We had not been getting out for hikes because most of the forest was closed. Also, we did not want to leave our house. Now, things finally seemed stable enough that we could leave for a day or two and have a mini vacation.

We found ourselves a campsite at Jessie M. Honeyman State Park so we headed out to Florence and the Oregon Coast. There were lots of hikes that we had not done before there, but I zeroed in on Tahkenitch Creek. Driving to Florence was not that big of a deal. It was only a two hour drive. Nothing too remarkable on the drive and soon we found ourselves at a quiet trailhead. There were a few cars there at the trailhead, but not many. There were a ton of bees by the bathroom, though, so everyone was a bit nervous going near them. Soon we were on the trail. It was a flat trail with a forested walk that went right by a quiet creek. We hiked this for a mile or so before Jacqueline realized she was missing her sunglasses. 

We spent way too long looking for the sunglasses going back and forth looking very closely. We never did find them, but at least Conrad and I got a little bit of a jog in. We continued on. The trail was very sandy as this was an area of dunes known as the Tahkenitch Dunes. We took that route that sent us toward the ocean. That was obviously the goal as we could not hike on the coast without seeing the ocean. It was only a few miles to get there and the trail took us right down to the beach. We spent the next mile or so hiking the beach. It was a cool day as usual on the coast, so there was no reason to get in the water on this day. Still it was fun and very relaxing. There was an enormous sign by the beach, so Conrad and I got a race in to the sign.

I was still faster than him for the time being. We had a decision to make. There was another trail that created a loop. This would mean we would have to leave the beach. It felt premature, but it gave us a chance to make a loop out of the hike. We left the beach and were now back in the dunes area. The trail took us to a lake called Three Mile Lake. It was amazing. How awesome would it be to hike a kayak into there for the day. We enjoyed it from high above taking a little break to look down on the lake. Then it was back through the dunes. Conrad got a little running down the sand hills in. We took the trail through the dunes that quickly dissipated. I was lucky to have my GPS watch because it told me I was on the trail when one did not exist. 

The watch did its job and the trail came and went as we walked through the deep sand. Eventually it brought us back to the trail we started from and the loop was complete. We walked on back through the woods until we got to where the sunglasses could be. We looked for them again, but we also completed the Tahkenitch Creek loop trail which was pretty short. The sunglasses were never found. We were back at the car and they were not there either. Now we were able to head to our campsite for the night. It was a quiet campsite in a very busy campground. I made a mistake and grabbed the wrong tent which meant that we had a two person tent for a family of four. We improvised and I cleared out the back of the car.

Conrad and I ended up sleeping in the back of the car while Jacqueline and Zyla enjoyed the comfort of the tent. Camp was fun. We played some games and ate food that was really unhealthy for us. The night ended up being okay. It was tight in the car but nice and cool which is hard to find. We slept in as long as we could and then were back at it. We got ourselves all packed up. We were definitely the abnormal ones in this campground with our simple setup. Some people had these amazing, elaborate setups. It looked like they were just going to stay in the campsite as long as they could. We were using it as a means to get another hike in during the morning. This time we were heading out on the Siltcoos Lake Trail.

This trailhead was not too far from camp. I saw it the day before when we were heading out to Tahkenitch Creek. When I looked it up, it seemed like it would be a good short day hike for the morning. The trailhead was pretty quiet with just a few cars there and only one sketchy looking one. It was always a risk to leave all of your gear in your car, but that is what we had to do to get out on a hike. This hike started out in the thick forest. We were moving away from the beach out to a very large lake. The trail was in very good shape and we enjoyed the thick forest. Eventually the trail came to a junction. We went to the right to go around the loop. The loop took us toward the lake but when we tried to get down to the actual lake, we ended up in someone's campsite. We said our pleasantries and then were off with one more shot at finding a place to enjoy the lake. We went down a steep hill until we were right there at the lake. There was a really nice spot with a picnic table right on the lake. We sat down and enjoyed a card game while we looked out at the lake. Jacqueline felt guilty as usual for taking the best spot, but since no one else was around, it was not a big deal. We could still smell the smoke from all of the fires even this far removed from the McKenzie area.

Ours was not the only fire around, but it definitely was the biggest. Jacqueline was paranoid that there was another fire out on the coast, but it did not seem that way to me. Just a lingering smell of smoke in the air, nowhere near as bad as we had been dealing with at home. Eventually it was time to go. We finished the loop through the deep forest and our hike was over a little sooner than all of us were wanting. From here, it was just time to pile back into the car and drive the 2 hours home. Still it was a nice little getaway before school started.

PCT Day 19: Bull Run to Cascade Locks

I got to admit, upon waking, I did not feel good. My sleep had been poor. I felt that I was awake part of the night and I was always aware of my location. I was uncomfortable and a little bit burned out. Still, I was up at first light and moving before 6 AM. Even moving was painful, though. My feet had been so abused from the day before that they were actually in pain. My last day and every step, especially with my right foot hurt. My Achilles tendon was so tight that it was now painful. I was hoping that it would loosen up, but every step seemed to hurt. It became so bad that I resorted to taking a couple of ibuprofen to make the pain go away after trying to work through it. The scenery was nice as undulating forest was the view for the morning. I passed Salvation Spring where other tents were parked for the night. Nothing any more remarkable than my spot.

My impatience with the Oregon experience was hitting its breaking point. The forest was great, but there was not much to break up the view. Even a small lake along the way was so obscured by the amount of trees that it was not much of a sight to see. I wondered why this forest did not burn and really with how dry it currently was right now, I knew it was only a matter of time. My foot was slowly loosening up, but the pain was not completely leaving. I knew I could not be doing too much additional damage to it, but my body was telling me it needed a rest. Still I plodded on spending most of the morning in thick forest until I came to a more open view.

Here I could see the Eagle Creek drainage start to open up. I was high above it, but knew that this drainage was my passage to the Columbia River and my completion of the PCT through Oregon. I decided to take the Indian Springs trail. This would allow me to access the Eagle Creek drainage. I could go a little further to the northwest and drop down at Wahtum Lake, but this was the fastest route to my way out and I knew that this was going to be another 25 mile day. In all, I would have to finish 166 miles in 6 days. No wonder my feet were hurting. When I left the PCT to travel down the Indian Springs trail, it was sort of bitter sweet. As usual, there were some hipsters talking to each other, but here I was just going downhill.

The trail went downhill fast. I knew that the Eagle Creek drainage had been burned in a fire and this trail seemed to get the brunt of it. There were down logs to climb over everywhere and just a generally steep downhill grade. I seemed to be the only fool that was using this trail until I saw a very tired, sweaty guy come up the trail. He seemed tired, but he was friendly. He talked about the steepness of the trail. Each step was sort of painful, but it was now just about getting down. I did not lose the trail, but it was not one I would ever fondly look back upon. Finally I came upon the junction with the Eagle Creek trail and I was relieved to be done with that one. It suddenly became less steep and burned out. I promptly found a nice spot for lunch and took the pack off with an amazing view.

Now it was time for waterfalls. The trail seemed to be a bit busier at this point, but still, I was far enough away from the trailhead that it was quiet. I got to see Eagle Creek from the opposite perspective. Since it was right near the Interstate, most people hiked up, sometimes to the first waterfall, sometimes a little bit further. I got to see the waterfalls from the top down. I could see why there were so many waterfalls, because this drainage was steep. I was dropping elevation dramatically since taking the Indian Springs trail as I had to get down almost to sea level. I also was getting my first taste of raindrops on the entire PCT. I was welcoming them, though, as the overcast skies were such a nice break from the relentless heat that had been the norm on the trail thus far. It never rained enough for me to get soaking wet, though. I know all the forests of Oregon could use the rain because if there was a theme, it was that this place was dry. Waterfalls were starting to appear around every bend. I am not sure the grand total of waterfalls that I was to see, but it was definitely in the double digits. At first they were little and so were the crowds. 

The first truly dramatic one was a waterfall that seemed to twist around a bend in the rock. I never got a great picture of this one, partially because there were people all around, but also because I would have had to lean myself out on the edge of the trail. Trail construction here was quite amazing as there were paths cut out of the sheer walls. Some places you could tell it took some engineering to forge a path through the valley, but this was an important spot to Oregon's history. For over a hundred years, people have been trekking up and down this area to see these waterfalls. Sometime the path became very steep and exposed. It seemed like at least once a year there was a news story of a person dying in Eagle Creek. There was nowhere where I felt unsafe, but there were so many people making the journey up that I knew it was possible. Huge waterfalls began to appear and I was glad I went this way even though the traffic was much different than if I would have stayed on the PCT. If I would have been on the actual trail, all I would have been doing was counting down the miles until the journey was over. At least here, I was seeing some sights that I would remember for a long time.

As I neared the end of this trail, though, I was starting to get impatient. Boy did my foot hurt and there were so many people. It was relentlessly downhill which was not helping. I checked my watch endlessly as I avoided the piles of people. The stream was so pleasant and the people so excited to be there, but I was just thrilled when I finally spotted the parking lot. Here I used a bathroom with running water for the first time in I don't know how long. I then walked a road which took me to a campground. All day I had been hoping for cell service, but I was finally able to communicate with my wife. She was on her way to the trailhead, but she had spent a lot of the day in Portland and would be a little bit late. There was no reason for me to hurry.

Still I was just so happy to get the pack off my back that when I saw the sign for the Columbia River Gorge trail and it telling me that I only had 2.5 miles until I met up with Pacific Crest trail again, I was happy. This looked a little bit funny to have a guy with an overnight pack on what essentially was a bike trail, but I knew I had to finish in Cascade Locks. This is where I told everyone that I was going when starting the trail 19 days previously in Ashland. I had walked 420 miles and even though Jacqueline could pick me up at the Eagle Creek trailhead, I needed to finish this section. The paved bike path took me to a trail through the woods that hugged the Interstate. Here huge trucks and passenger cars went by at speeds of 60-70 miles per hour, while I slowly plodded my way on tired feet. 

It was almost anticlimactic when I popped out to a trailhead in the town of Cascade Locks. Here I met up with the PCT again and I took off my pack to use it as a seat. This lonely spot at the edge of town with a few cars parked and no people around was the crowning achievement of my hike. I felt relieved that the journey was over. A half an hour later my wife showed up and she brought the kids along. I was proud of myself with following through with my plans and that my kids could see that something challenging could be accomplished. I was so happy to go home though. The shoes that I was wearing were so trashed by this point and my feet were in so much pain. It would turn out that the following day, my Achilles on both ankles would be so sore that I could barely walk around the house.

420 plus miles and the last day had nearly done me in. I was so happy to see my kids and family. I was very tired, though, and even though I was usually the one to drive, I let my wife do the driving. I was hairy, dirty, grimy, sore, but refreshed. Something like the PCT is only exciting because it is so different. Most of life is waking up in the morning and attacking the to do list. Even more of the time, that to do list is filled with activities that you do not want to do such as a job. This job can not become my life. My life needs a balance. One thing that I discovered on the PCT is that I really did not spend a lot of time soul searching. I realized that I had it pretty good. I had a house by the river, two wonderful kids, an amazing supportive wife, great friends and family, an enjoyable career, and a happy existence. I lived in probably one of the most beautiful places in Oregon and I was happy. A journey such as this allowed me to keep the balance. I was now rather satiated on the adventure part of my life and was ready to settle in for the long haul that would be the school year. Still it would not take me too long to start thinking what it would be like to hike the PCT through the state of Washington?

PCT Day 18: Barlow Pass to Bull Run

I had to wake up early if I was to make it in time for breakfast at the lodge. At 9 AM, there was a breakfast buffet at the Timberline Lodge and I pushed myself all week to try to make it. I had made friends with a French couple and they invited me. I know they probably did not care if I made it or not, but it gave me a goal to shoot for. That meant that I was up at 5:40 AM and on the trail by 6:20 AM. I was surprised by the fact that once again I was one of the last to leave by that time in the morning. I was only 5.2 miles from the Timberline Lodge, but it required consistent uphill hiking to get there. This was actually one of the steepest places on the whole trail so far and my feet were sore. The Achilles issue I had been struggling with was turning into a bigger problem. It hurt for at least an hour every morning and no amount of getting it loose was going to make it go away.

So I dealt with the pain and the sweat. I was surprised how warm it was even early in the morning. No wonder the glaciers were melting away. The trail was sandy in many places also and the easy 5.2 miles became a push just to make it to breakfast on time. I will be honest, going off trail to head down to the Lodge was harder than I thought it would be. Given my exhaustion level, anything extra felt unnecessary. Still, this was my goal and I was going to achieve it. The lodge was under construction, so I luckily found the right building. Breakfast was upstairs. When I arrived there, it was packed. Many times you hike the trail and wonder where the other PCT hikers are. I found them all here at breakfast. Since I had been moving so fast, the only people that I really knew though were the French couple. I was lucky that I knew them, too, because all the tables were taken. The server allowed me to go sit next to them and it helped him a ton as there were many people waiting for breakfast. There was so much food, I felt like gorging myself, but I refrained. A couple of plates were all I could stomach anyway and it was great to have some good conversation. This was probably the only time on the trail that I had told anyone anything personal about my life. Often times you hear about the lifelong friendships made on the PCT. I did not feel the same way. The people were in and out of my life so quick that there was not any time to build any lasting friendships. Even the French couple, I did not even know their names.

I paid my bill which unsurprisingly was probably the most expensive breakfast that I had ever purchased for myself. The French couple was going to spend most of the day just hanging out around the lodge. I, on the other hand, was trying to get enough miles in to finish the following day. They were a little bit jealous of me as they still had another 500 miles to go hiking through Washington. I wished them good luck and was on my way. It was Sunday, so the trail was busy. This was a popular spot for hiking for people from Portland, so I encountered many day hikers near the lodge. There were even some people riding the ski lift up to either ski or just hike around the high points of the mountain.

Mt. Hood was definitely impressive, but I honestly though it would be more snowy. There was a ridiculous amount of water and glacial till around, but not much snow. Because I was on the flanks of the mountain, it meant that the trail was nowhere near flat. Instead, it went up and down as I skirted the southern than western flanks of the mountain. It generally headed in a downward direction, but this was hard to realize when I was steeply climbing up and out of a glacial valley. As I got farther from the Timberline Lodge, the number of people began to dwindle, but it was still one of the busiest section of the trail. The views were incredible, but eventually they changed from open mountain slopes to forest after crossing the Zigzag River. The vegetation was pretty lush at this point and the trail was now switchbacking downhill pretty much relentlessly. Down and down I went and I saw the tired, sweaty faces of the people going uphill. I was glad that I was not going to have to go back up this hill that eventually led to the Sandy River. This was an issue as this river was quite full of water and there was no bridge for me to use to cross this river. Some people brought Chacos or Tevas for this exact purpose. Others went barefoot. Given my current foot issues, I could not risk it.

So I just found a good place to cross and did it with my shoes on. The crossing was not actually that rough even though there were a couple of people wandering around trying to find an easy way. After fording the section of river at Mt. Jefferson, the Sandy River was much easier. The problem was that I now had wet feet and I was going to have to deal with that the rest of the day. I spent some time eating lunch and letting my shoes dry. I tried using dirty and clean socks to soak up some moisture, but there was nothing I could do but just suck it up and hike with wet feet. This could be a problem, but for now, I was just going to put in the miles. Right after the Sandy River, the trail changed. It was hot and I was feeling the heat, but the trail took me to a junction. 

I had the choice of staying on the PCT or taking a side trail to Ramona Falls. I was not going to avoid this opportunity and took the side trail. This was a popular spot to day hike too, so the clientele changed quite dramatically. There were all sorts of people on this trail and when I got to the waterfall, there was barely a place to sit without encountering another human. I filtered some water from the creek and then was off on my way. I choose to not go back to the PCT, but instead just take the trail down the creek. This proved to be a good choice as it was shady and very pleasant. When I got back to the trail, I encountered another PCT hiker who I chatted with. He criticized my choice roundaboutly. He said he was a red liner meaning that he allowed himself to go to other places on the trail, as long as he returned to the exact spot he left the trail. The rest of us were blue liners.

Having breakfast with the French couple, I was inspired by their perspective on the trail. They had skipped a couple of parts including a big section of the Sierras. They would not be heading back. They decided early on that their experience was hiking from Mexico to Canada and whatever section of trail that they missed was just going to be missed. I liked that perspective and the red liner perspective was much too serious for me. I had decided that my perspective on getting off trail was that I would only do it to see something exciting. I had been debating about whether to hike Eagle Creek the following day or stay on the PCT proper. This sort of confirmed for me that Eagle Creek it would be.

From here, the trail climbed again. This was thick forest and I had a new group of friends. Biting flies seemed to be all around. They hurt more than mosquitoes but bothered me less because I did not have to deal with all of the constant buzzing. I was moving pretty good at this point with my feet feeling alright. It never seemed to bother me too much to go uphill or downhill, just had to keep myself moving. When I reached the top of the hill and left the Timberline Trail, all of a sudden, the biting flies stopped. This made me happy, but mostly, now I was starting to get excited to be done. More forest lay ahead of me and it led me downhill to Lolo Pass. This was a place with a road and a campsite. It was unoccupied and it would have been so easy to stay there as it was in the evening and time to camp.

I had to continue on, though, as there was a place on the map called Salvation Spring which could be a good place to camp. I went uphill again until I ran into a spring. There was a couple filtering water there and we talked for a bit. They were continuing on also, but would camp in an hour or so. I was tired and I decided that when I found a good place to camp, that I would just do it. Now I had water and I was within close enough distance to make it to Cascade Locks the following day. So after another hour or so of walking, I found a flat place by the side of a dark spooky section of trail and set up camp. I was filthy and tired, but I need to camp. After dinner and a little reading, it was time to quickly try to sleep. It would be my last night out on the trail.  

PCT Day 17: Warm Springs River to Barlow Pass

I definitely did not sleep enough. Getting in late, being grimy and sweaty, it was a rough night. I even got a late start, not hitting the trail until 7 AM. Still I was not ready to get moving and putting on the pack again for another long day was going to be rough. My feet were so sore, especially around my Achilles. I had to move very slowly and I could not overextend myself at all. It was actually rather painful and it took quite some time to loosen up. The trail climbed slowly uphill, but it was barely noticeable. Then it descended slowly downhill. The trail was quiet, but I did run into some people on horseback who were far too boisterous for my current mood. I was about the miles today and I would not be happy unless I could cover a fair amount. Having done 31 miles the previous day, it would be tough to pack away even more miles today.

After about 7 miles, I was in Mt. Hood National Forest. This would be my first time hiking around Mt. Hood and I was preparing myself for the onslaught of human beings that was likely to be there. The trail was quiet at first until I came to a road with cars driving much too fast and probably the largest, fanciest sign I had seen thus far for the Pacific Crest Trail. From here the trail went right next to Timothy Lake. It was a beautiful lake and the trail was flat. There were numerous campsites by the lake mostly all occupied given that it was Saturday during the summer time. I thought about swimming in the lake, but knew if I took any extended break, I was likely to not make it to Timberline Lodge the following day for the buffet breakfast. So I plodded along always thinking I would have another opportunity to stop at the lake and get some water if I needed to. The lake seemed to last forever, but soon I was at the last little arm of the lake. I found a quiet spot to have a little lunch, but I neglected to refill my water. This would come back to haunt me later. Passing the junction for Little Crater Lake, I passed my last chance to fill my water.

The trail climbed steeply from here. The trail was all of sudden not shady and pleasant anymore, but rather hot and dry. I moved slowly uphill. My feet loosened up but I still was not moving quickly. I passed a group of younger PCT hikers resting in the shade. Given the miles I had been putting in every day, I was leaving behind many familiar faces. These new groups that I was running into were full of people I hadn't ever met. The trail climbed toward Wapinitia Pass. The heat and the uphill hiking were making my water supply deplete rapidly. I was hoping that at the pass, there may be running water. As I climbed, eventually the views of Mt. Hood were beginning. It still felt so far away though.

When I got to the pass, there was nothing there as far as running water. The pass itself was just a place to cross the road, but there was a big parking area right by the turn to Frog Lake. Here people could park and get on the PCT. I was happy to sit down on a bench with a picnic table and throw away the garbage that was in my pack. It wasn't like it made my pack that much lighter, but it did make it more cleanly. I didn't rest too long before I was climbing uphill again. Now, though, I was getting far too low on water. When I looked at the map, I could see that I would not cross any more creeks. I had an important decision to make. There was a junction just above me where a trail less than a mile long descended down to a lake. I had no choice but to leave my big pack and take the water filter and my water bottles down to the lake.

It is hard to describe how frustrating it is to get off trail because of poor planning. These were miles that I would have to add on and time that I would not get back. I even shortcut the trail because I needed to get there in the shortest amount of time. The lake itself looked so nice. How much fun would it be to just camp here for the night? It was shady and the lake was nice and warm. There were plenty of people swimming and camping around the lake. Instead, though, I would quickly fill the water bottles. I had to go out on a log and precariously balance to get the water, but eventually I had drank my fill and filled up the bottles. Then it was back up the trail I had just come down. I had lost a half hour which may not seem like much, but I wondered if I was going to have enough energy to make it close enough to Timberline Lodge. My goal for the night was Barlow Pass. From the lakes, it was only two miles, but it was uphill and it was getting late in the evening. I persevered and I soon found myself at a nice large sign letting me know it was Barlow Pass. I was very happy to be there. When I looked around, though, there didn't seem to be many campsites. A couple of people pointed out to me that there were more places to camp down the road, so I found a nearly flat spot down the road. I set up the tent, made a quick dinner, read my book, but mostly I was just happy to not be moving for a while. I had put in 27 miles to make it to this point, but I knew I had another full day ahead of me the following day. I would have to be up early if I hoped to make breakfast at Timberline Lodge.

 

PCT Day 16: Jefferson Park to Warm Springs River

 

I wish I could say that I got an early start on this day, but hitting the trail at 6:45 AM does not count for that on the PCT. I am sure that a good majority of people were will on their way far before I was moving on mine. I had enjoyed a restful night's sleep after being clean. It was a little cooler up at Jefferson Park also, so the night was more enjoyable. Luckily, also, there was a bit of a breeze through the night, so that my shoes were able to dry out after crossing the river the previous day. I had left them open and exposed for the breeze to do its magic and it had worked. So far, my feet were feeling good and when I woke up I was feeling great. Jefferson Park was amazing and I really enjoyed being there. It was tough to leave as I knew today would be a lot of pounding the trail to get the miles in. 

The trail climbed uphill pretty quick. I realized right away that most of the cool people camped up high because of the amazing views. I took a bunch of pictures, because you had great views of Jefferson Park up here. The trail was not too steep and I was making good time even with stopping often for the photo opportunities. There were a few late starters that I passed as I went up the hill and quite a few people camped at the high point. This was like the dividing line. When I turned my back on Jefferson Park, I was heading out and pointing my head forward toward Mt. Hood. I wanted to continue living the Mt. Jefferson experience as long as possible as it was an amazing mountain. 

From here, it was time to point the legs downhill. I passed some snow, some small lakes, some beautiful meadows with flowers like lupine and paintbrush to enjoy. There were uphill hikers with the excitement of getting to Jefferson Park permeating through their being. I talked to quite a few people and they seemed to be in great moods and really commenting on how beautiful the area was. I agreed and I felt so invigorated by this place. I could see the best of it was soon to be over, though, as the charred forest became ever so much closer with each step. Eventually, I was there and I would not leave it for a long time. I was moving pretty good, though, on this day, so I tried to keep it going as much as possible.

It felt very hot and dry. I liked to call these areas ghost forests because the trees stood like skeletons, shadows of their former selves. Even a rest beside what should have been a spectacular mountain lake felt almost empty with the scenery around it so damaged. There were a lot of people out and about, so I chatted with quite a few people on the trail, but I realized soon, that this day was going to be about making the miles. I wanted to get out of the burnt forest as soon as possible and since most of the trail was downhill, I was moving pretty good. Eventually, I made it to the Olallie Lake Resort. This was the borderline between Mt. Jefferson and the Warm Springs Indian Reservation. 

I did not spend an incredibly long amount of time at the Olallie Lake Resort, even though some pushy ladies said I had to go to the store. It was so wonderful. I am not sure why I rejected most of the civilized places to stop on the PCT. I think I just wanted to have the experience of being out there and not relying on any comforts of home. I also knew that a stop at the store would delay the excellent progress I was making that day. So instead of going to the store, I crossed the road and found the shadiest spot I could to have my own meager lunch. Thankfully, the burned forest was giving way to tree cover. The terrain changed also being fairly flat with a slight downhill grade. That was one thing about today was that there was not too much altitude to endure.

The rest of the day became about getting in the miles. The forest was nice, but it became rather repetitive. It was hot and dry, a good place for a fire to break out. I was feeling good and moving, but there were not many places to break up the monotony. The first goal was to get to Jude Lake and then after that I was able to make it to Lemiti Meadow. Here, I had to take a slight detour out to the campsite to get water from the spring. The swampy marsh did not seem like an appealing spot, but with the water filter, the water was still potable. From here on out, though, it was a test of will. I knew that if I put in a big day today, I had a chance of getting out in just three more days. So far, until this point, I had been really good about being patient with the experience and just living in the moment. Now, though, I was starting to just realize how close I was to finishing. If I made it to the Warm Springs River Footbridge, I could make it to the Timberline Lodge for breakfast. I saw the French couple again and they seemed to be doing the same thing on this day. 

I was not moving incredibly fast at this point. It was evening and here I was still putting the miles in on the trail. There were not a whole lot of landmarks to keep me motivated either as the South and North Pinheads were nothing too unique. It was slightly concerning also, because every campsite seemed to be taken. I was running into so many hikers in this section which seemed bizarre given the remoteness of this place. After passing the Pinhead Saddle area, it was all downhill from there to the river. It was easy going, but my feet began to get tired. This was probably too big of a day, one that I would likely pay for later. By the time I finally pulled into camp, it was 8 PM and finding a spot was nearly impossible. There were deadfall all around camp and luckily I was able to find a flat piece of ground to put down a tent. I took care of camp chores which on this evening included filtering water from the same place I would dip my toes in. I was not able to fully submerge and get myself completely clean, but a soaking of the legs was definitely in the cards. A quick dinner and a few minutes of reading still got me in bed at a late hour. I wondered how much I was going to pay for this day later, but for now I could revel in my 31 mile day. This was my longest day on the PCT and I would have never thought I could put in these miles when I started.