2MoreMiles…

Turns out WiFi and 4G service from Verizon has gotten scarcer than we anticipated, and as such we are waaaay behind with our blog.  Suffice it to say, we are in Washington now with approximately 268 miles to go.  Expect a deluge of posts as we do our best to catch up.

One Speed and Just Paul

Day 142: (19.05 miles)
mile 2107.3 – 2126.25

After a hearty all you can eat buffet breakfast we packed up and were back on the trail once again.  Timberline is an easy vortex to get caught in, as we ended up getting on the trail way later than we intended. The ambience is such that you feel welcome and at home.  We can only imagine what it would be like during actual ski season.  We are thinking that a trip back here to experience that will be in order.  We seem to keep adding more and more to our “bucket list”. 

The air was chilly once we exited the lodge, so on went the jackets and for me, pant legs.  Paul only has shorts, and it will have to be super cold for him to wear his long underwear under his shorts.  He also is rarely cold.  Today we will essentially walk around the base of Mt. Hood.  This will include up and down some gullies in order to cross streams that run off from the mountain.  Not far from the lodge, we ran into a trio of cousins sipping champagne at a view point. 

They offered us some champagne, and we gladly accepted.  We will need to get some for when we reach the terminus at Canada. We talk for some time and take their picture for them.  They are delightful, and full of energy, and we think they must have been a handful growing up together.  We amble on, and break at the edge of the Sandy River.  This is a wide boulder strewn river that during the winter melt off must be massive and powerful.  While stopped for a late lunch we are greeted by a gentleman who was a geologist for the forest service.  He confirms our observation about the river and asks if we heard about the hiker death that occurred last week during the rain event. No, we reply, and start to tell him about not getting much news out on the trail.  He then tells us he is out “investigating” and taking pictures, and asks, “Well do ya want to hear the story?” Why not, we figure.  (Good thing were not the decedent’s attorney) He tells us about how a rain cell “sat” on the mountain and dropped 8-12 inches of rain in about a 2 hour period, and that a group of day hikers were caught in the rain.  The hikers (a group of nearly 30) turned back, only to find that their crossing at muddy creek had become treacherous.  A group of 6 started to cross the creek over a make shift log bridge and one hiker slipped and was swept away.  They found his body a mile down the creek.  Hmmm, we think.  That is where we will be making a crossing today, and before that we need to cross the Sandy river, which should be called the boulder river.  Food for thought.  The geologist continues on his way and we look again at our maps and set an end point for the day. 

We take a circuitous route to cross the river, which in the end requires us to remove our footwear and loosen our packs.  We decide to nix taking the Ramona Falls alternate trail, as it was uphill and we’ve seen our fair share of waterfalls as of late.

I make my first  “log” river crossing without “freaking out”.  We eventually come upon the infamous Muddy Creek crossing. It was two thick logs about three feet in diameter lying parallel to each other, but with one off center and directly above the other.  A slack line of climbing rope is tied to, and runs the length of the logs that stretch across raging debris filled creek, and approximately 4 feet above.  Today the logs were not wet, but well worn, which required careful steps and absolute concentration.  Not a crossing to make on a wet and or rainy day.  Once across this creek we had a monstrous climb ahead to our intended end point, and the next water. 

Mt. Hood left behind us

After the climb was complete, it turns out that I miss-read where the next water was supposed to be.  We had reached our intended  camp, but no water!  We kicked ourselves for not collecting water at an unscheduled spring (not on the map) when we saw it.  Lesson learned, better to carry water when you see it then to hope the next source is good.  We rechecked our maps and found there to be another water source 4 miles ahead.  The evening was cool and it was downhill.  We got to the source just as darkness fell upon us.  As I filtered water, Paul went ahead to look for a place to camp.  He found one, but it was occupied by a “scary dude” all dressed in black, who gave Paul the thousand mile stare when he gruffly told Paul the campsite was occupied.  We loaded up our water and donned our headlamps and continued down the trail in search of a suitable place to bed down, and seriously far away from the scary dude.  After several miles, as the terrain was steep on either side, we, through divine intervention, found the only place along the trail before the listed campsites nearly seven miles away.  It is dangerous for me to look other than forward when I walk during daylight hours, let alone in the dark with a headlamp, as the tripping hazards have my name all over them, so Paul does the looking for campsites.  This time however, I looked to my left at one point and walla, there was a makeshift site and not a moment too soon as we were tired and starving.  A quick set up. A bite to eat and we were snoring in no time.  It was nearly midnight (hiker midnight).

Day 139: (23.7 miles)
mile 2049.3 – 2073

Having completely full bellies, we slept soundly, so much so that we kind of over slept.  We were glad we found last night’s campsite when we did as there were no possible camp spots for quite awhile, to include the Many Lakes View Point, where we had originally wanted to get to and camp last night.  At the “View Point”, not only were there no places to camp, but there was no view.  The trees were too tall and thick, which obscured any chance for a view.  Maybe that’s why the sign was on the ground.  We walked by several small and pristine lakes enroute to check out Olallie Lake. 

Cigar Lake was one of our favorites.  When we got to Olallie we were amazed.  It was worth the side trip.
lake is awesome.  

It had quaint green rowboats, lakeside cabins, a fully stocked store, and a stellar view of Mt. Jefferson.  This lake is stocked with some trophy sized trout and does not allow any motorized vessels or human contact.  We ducked into the store for a danish and a fresh cup of coffee.  As we sat on the front porch of the store soaking in the view and sipping our coffee a couple and their three legged dog walked up.  They were on a backpacking trip and headed to Cigar Lake, and were at the store on a “beer run”.  We couldn’t help but semi-stare at them, as their packs were quite full, the dog was missing a front leg, both were smoking and the female was wearing Jack Purcell tennis shoes, and drinking from a large plastic coffee cup.  As soon as they dropped their packs, exasperated, they both lit up cigarettes.  They asked us if we were backpacking too.  We said we were.  We asked them where they were headed. The female said they were on their way to Cigar Lake (about 4 miles away).  ” This is like our back yard.  We love this shit”, she said, taking a drag from her cigarette.  “How ’bout you? Where are  guys headed?”. Paul couldn’t resist, “Canada” he replied.  “Wow”, they said.  We finished our coffee, filled our water bottles and headed back to the trail.  From here the trail was fairly easy.  It was mostly forested with some small thin meadows in between.

As it was warm we had to make a stop for water at Trooper Spring.  The water was clear, icy cold and was in a pool filled with frogs. Yum!  The rest of the day continued through forest, some green, some recently burned, and some logged. 

We crossed a wooden foot bridge at Warm Springs creek and bedded down for the night.

Sunset from the Lodge's front steps

Day 141: (11.3 miles)
mile 2096 – 2107.3

Up early and motivated…once again by food, in the form of an all you can eat buffet and a hot shower.  Of the 11 miles, most of it was uphill and peppered with switchbacks.  The highlight of the walk included a small herd of elk moving through the trees to higher ground. 

We also passed the 2100 mile mark and some unique signage to include a relief map of the area and a tribute sign for Barlow Road.

The final approach (uphill) to Timberline was classic.  Mt. Hood was still covered in snow, and the wind blew stiffly across the trail, which had turned to deep soft sand. 

If it were not for the lack of a briney ocean smell, we would have thought we were traversing sand dunes at Pismo Beach, CA or Asilomar, CA, as the terrain and vegetation were strangely similar.

The reward however was worth the effort as we got into Timberline on time just before noon.  We picked up our resupply box, essentially at the pro shop, and quickly stuffed our food bags and handed “leftovers” out to other thru-hikers hanging out at  the lodge. We were however, a little perplexed
with the people walking around carrying skis and snowboards this time of year.  Turns out, they ski on a groomed glacier on Mt. Hood above the lodge. 
Once we found out that Ben and Ash were running a bit late we tried our luck getting a room at this insanely large and historic lodge.  As luck would have it, we got a sole deal on a room and were able to check in early. Timberline lodge was built in 15 months as a WPA project in the late 30s.  Most of the material came from local lumber.  Huge beams and classic WPA craftsmanship.  The rooms are not big, but they had everything we required… Scalding hot shower, comfy bed and our own bathroom that did not require squatting behind a bush.  Once we were cleaned up, we decided to explore the lodge while waiting for Ben and Ash.  We got as far as the lobby, when they arrived, which was good as we were hiker hunger starving and the buffet lunch (that we’d been dreaming about) was only open for one more hour.  We gorged ourselves on tri-tip, turkey, grilled vegetables, little baby potatoes, salad, bread, and assorted deserts till we couldn’t stuff anymore in.  After lunch we explored the lodge and ended up in the Ram’s Head bar were we talked till late over a few very tall beers.

After an enjoyable visit, Ben and Ash returned to Portland and we turned in for the night.  Life is good!

Day 140: (23 miles)
2073-2096

Walked out and up (of course) from Warm Springs Creek early in the morning. It was brisk and we were dressed for the cold chill. We met a SOBO hiker and she told us Coppertone was at the next road crossing serving root beer floats. Paul had told me about his meeting with Coppertone back when I was first off trail with Giardia. I felt so deprived when he said he received the magic of a root beer float. We were only 4 miles from the road so we picked up our pace as if we had never had a float before. Soon we could hear road traffic and see Coppertone’s camper. Coppertone is a generous, kind person, who hiked the trail a few years ago and has been trail angeling for some time. We were greeted by Coppertone and his giant smile. He remembered Paul and my Giardia story and offered us some fresh fruit, cookies and his famous root beer floats. We accepted his offer on all accounts. The root beer float was wonderful and refreshing as Paul had described. After all the refreshments, we thanked Coppertone and were off. We planned to meet our nephew, Ben and his wife Ash, at Frog Lake, but have had problems with his phone number.  Seems we’ve been leaving messages for the wrong number. Not sure how it will work out, as we finally got the correct number and have not heard back from him yet. They live in Portland, a 2 hour drive away. Crossing our fingers we continue up the trail.

We got our first look back at Mt. Jefferson off in the distance.  In the afternoon we reached Timothy Lake, a large lake which had lots of people swimming, boating, and horseback riding. We had lunch along the shore and talked about how we are beginning to miss the summer activities at home, as the activities here were similar. We confident we will be home soon, maybe 5 more weeks to go. About 4pm we were able contact Ben and found out he wasn’t able to meet us at Frog Lake this evening. We made plans to meet tomorrow at Timberline Lodge around noon.

We arrived at the Frog Lake campground and resupplied our water, had dinner at a picnic table, and talked with a few campers. Our plans to camp at the campground was nixed when we found out it would cost $21 to put up our tent. We went back up the trail about a mile and camped for free in an area all to ourselves without cars or any other people. Such a deal! Tomorrow we will head to Timberline Lodge for the most extravagant buffet and luxurious accommodations on the trail. Oh joy!

Day 138: (19 miles)
mile 2030.31 – 2049.3

Today was a magical day, even for a day filled with mostly uphill.  It started with a 4 mile “easy” walk with rolling ups and downs passing lots of small clear ponds nestled on tiny meadows amongst the trees. 

We dropped in elevation until Russell Creek which is supposed to be a treacherous crossing.  While it was flowing strong, it did not require the removal of footwear, only the loosening of pack straps for the boulder hop across the creek.  Up until this point, the trail has been bordered by wild mostly ripe huckleberries which we grazed on most of the morning.  At Russell Creek however, we began to see wild blackberries and thistle berries, which I had to pass on as Paul was getting annoyed with my many stops to pick a handful at a time.  Being a weekend, the trail was active with many backpackers and day hikers.  We met a SOBO section hiker “Tim/Tom” who thru-hiked the PCT in 1977.  We asked if he ever ran into the “Unfortunates” in 1977.  He recalled the name, but had not met up with them.

Our journey today was mostly around the base of Mt. Jefferson, which is an impressive and beautiful snow and glacier studded mountain.  In total, we climbed about 1600 feet over 8 miles.  Dense forest with unscheduled springs seeping from the hillside made for green scenery. 

From time to time, the forest opened up into picturesque meadows filled with vibrantly blooming flowers, nature’s bouquet, if you will. 

It was surreal and we felt as though we though we had wandered into a page out of a National Geographic magazine.  To experience sights, that we’ve only seen before in a two dimensional format and now in five dimensions is indescribable.  It touches and fills you to your core.  It becomes part of you, and you own those moments. 

And just when we thought it couldn’t get any better, we enter Jefferson Park, a fantastic plateau or valley spread out beneath Mt. Jefferson that could be Tuolumne Meadow’s doppelganger.  Pristine ponds, meandering streams, grassy meadows with colorful flowers resembling groomed gardens as far as the eye could see.  If we were not thru hiking, we could have stayed a day or two basking in its wondrous beauty. 

We climbed out of the valley and up to the top of the ridge line and surprisingly a snow field.  There we ran into a family whose parent’s had just gotten married on the ridge line overlooking Jefferson Park.  One of their daughter’s, a minister, had conducted the ceremony.  When we initially met, Paul did his usual, “are you the guys with he beer?”, to which they replied, ” we actually have a beer left, would you like it?”.  Why yes of course! 

We are presented with an icy cold (even the mountains were blue) Coors Light.  We talked for some time about hiking the PCT, to include some of our misadventures.  As with all thru-hikers, time is miles, so we made our goodbyes and good lucks, and gave them a our blog card and slid across the snowfield…me grumbling all the way (I still hate walking on snow). 

Drop'N Roll in the back left and DayBreak on the cooler

As we neared Breitenbush lake, we ran into more trail magic from Drop n’ Roll and DayBreak, who had thru-hiked the PCT in 2012, were cooking burgers and had an ice chest full of beers and sodas. They prepared cheese burgers with all the toppings and water melon too! We feasted as we melted into comfortable chairs and ate chocolate brownies for desert. Truthfully, we had seconds on almost everything, apologizing for our hiker hunger, which they fully understood. We had planned to do four more miles, but after the feeding frenzy we were only able to go 2 more miles… Of course!

Loop
We watched another awesome sunset before making camp and giving thanks for such a wonderful day.

Day 137: (23.34 miles)
mile 2007 – 2030.34

Everyone said getting a hitch out of Bend is difficult and they’re not kidding.  We walked about 3 miles to the edge of town, fully loaded, with our PCT Hiker sign.  When we were fully exasperated we heard a voice behind us, “You guys need a ride?”  Parked behind us was Sweet Medicine.  She appeared like an angel.  God works in mysterious ways as we were starting to get snippy with each other about our strategies of getting a ride out if Bend. Sweet Medicine said she picked us up because of our PCT hiker sign and later told us that for some reason or another she had decided this morning that she needed to go into Bend to her favorite chiropractor.  And when she saw our sign, she knew why.  Divine intervention! 

Turns out she is of Indian descent, so she and Paul had lots to talk about as he is 1/32 or something like that Chippewa on his mother’s side.  She is on the Indian council and specializes in edible plants.  Finally, if anyone would know why the forest smells like waffles sometimes, she would, or at least be able to tell me with certainty, I’m crazy.  Turns out it’s a combination of two types of pine.  Jeffrey pine that smells like bacon and white pine that smells like vanilla.  Redemption!  Sweet Medicine knew exactly where to take us. 

The Jack Lake trailhead is where she dropped us.  We walked through the B&B burn area.  It was amazing.  The devastation of the burn is nearly unimaginable.

Huckleberries line the trail.  As the Jack Lake trail intersects the PCT we met a nice section hiker, Michelle. 

In the end, we named her bookworm, as she is well read and sells books.  She is especially fond of the area cause her dad used to take her up in this area when she was younger, and more poignantly, her  Dad’s ashes are spread in the area of Three Finger Jack mountain.  Her dream is to be able to thru-hike the PCT.

We lunched at Rockpile  lake and enjoyed sitting in the sun.

Although most of day was hiking through a burn area, the views it afforded were stellar.  The burn area reminded me of tall white ghosts standing watch over all who enter.  The burn area turned into colorful forest.  In fact it was, a magical forest area. 

Perfectly groom, like garden gnomes worked there.  I halfway expected to see a unicorn grazing in the small pristine meadows, or better yet be greeted by a Centaur with a plate of cookies, who says,  “Welcome, would you like to have some Keebler Elf cookies?”…and no we were not drunk or high, but still we agreed the forest was magical.  When the day was over, we camped at Shale Lake under the shadow of Mt. Jefferson…magic in itself.

Day 136: (4.2 miles)
mile 1984.4 – 1989.6

The air was moist and misting when we awoke.  It was not rain that was causing the overall dampness, but the low ceiling of a cloud was resting upon the ridge line we were about to traverse.  We started with full rain gear and gloves and it was cool enough that we saw our breath.  The trail was mostly even or downhill as we walked toward Lava Camp and the highway. 

“Lava Camp” should have been a clue for the last 2 miles was nothing but large chunks of lava rock that shredded our shoes. Once at the highway we got lucky once again and got a hitch right away from “Rock” who although was traveling in the opposite direction turned his VW westfalia around and gave us a ride.  Rock has been trail angeling along the trail since Campo and was in the area helping hikers get into town, as this hwy is known to be a hard hitch.  Rock took us to REI, and then to Albertson’s.  From there we walked 2 blocks to the Red Lion, which but for the grace of God had a room left for the night.  Seems we inadvertently timed our trip into Bend with the Bend Brew Fest ( an event I have attended before), and reasonably priced rooms were sparse.

Shower, laundry and three packed resupply boxes mailed (thanks to Sue who kept her shop open till we had packed and addressed our boxes), we inhaled a pizza, salad and some beer at the Round Table Pizza across from our hotel.  Now for a good night’s sleep.

Day 135: (19.3 miles)
mile 1965.1 – 1984.4

Today was all about spectacular views.  Although it was somewhat overcast, it made the Sisters more mysterious and spectacular.  Just like sisters in a family, they were similar yet each had its own unique features and beauty.  As we walked, we could see an expansive thick white fog had settled into a valley below.  We wondered if we would be descending into that valley that seemed so far off.  It beckoned like an abyss that awakens your curiosity and draws you in like the smell of warm cookies just out of the oven.  Glacial snow stuck to the tops and deep crevasses of each mountain which we found unusual for this relatively low elevation and comfortable temperature. 

Green meadows with narrow streams cross the trail. 

Bright and colorful blooms of mountain flowers in white, yellow, purple and fuscia accompany the streams. 

The trail winds its way through the Obsidian Limited Entry Area, a cornucopia of slick solid black and marbled boulders.  Golf ball sized chunks and shards of sharp obsidian peppered the trail beneath our feet. 

This area seems like it would have been the Costco for shopping for material to make arrowheads way back when. 

We pass by Obsidian Falls and take obligatory pictures.  Once out of the special area the terrain changes dramatically and it is like we are on the surface of another planet, like Mars maybe. 

The trail now floats over rolling mounds and rivers of lava rocks as far as the eye can see.  This is what our feet have been waiting for, a true challenge!  The lava rocks are a colorful blend of red, black and sandy brown.  We were glad it was overcast and not blazing hot.  More snow began to appear beside the trail, and a faint sound of thunder permeated the eerie calm along with the sound of rocks shifting beneath our feet. 

The now hardened lava flows softened back into tree lined and boulder pocked forest.  Just before camp, we watered up at Minnie Scott Spring which bubbled up through its coarse gravel bottom, to the surface of a shallow pool whose cascading water created a narrow icy stream. 

2 miles later we make camp just before a narrow meadow.  We are cold and damp.  To remedy the situation, Paul built a fire.  After a warm dinner next to a hot fire we retired for the evening.

Sunrise at Odell Lake

Day 133: (25.8 miles)
mile 1913 – 1936.6 + 2.2 ” bonus miles ”

We got lucky, as it only rained lightly off and on throughout the night.  We dressed and packed up inside the “comfort” of our tent.  The skies over the lake appeared fairly clear, so after a cup of coffee we were off. 

We walked the road around the lake up to the trailhead off hwy 58.  The air had a smell of sweet rain, accented with fireside smoke.  As we hit the trail two US Forest Service fire crew trucks pulled into the ODOT (Oregon department of transportation) lot adjacent the trailhead.  We hoped they weren’t going to tell us the trail was closed due to fire.  They did not.  The trail is soft and clear of tracks, both human and other. 

We walk through a thick corridor of trees covered in Oscar the Grouch green “fur”/moss. 

We wonder if you could make a gilly suit out of that moss.  Something else to look up when we get home.  Feels kind of squatchy we say to each other at the same time, and laugh.  Frankly, Paul is seriously disappointed with the number of Sasquatch sightings we’ve had…zero! 

Less than 4 miles in (mile 1916), we come upon two actively burning fires parallel to the trail approximately 25 yards on the hillside to our left.  Several trees are burning like giant candles, with still more fires burning at the base of a few additional trees.  Not knowing really who to call, we call the store at Shelter Cove and report the fire, knowing that at least they would be able to pass the info onto the proper agency.  We continue up the trail, hiking in almost perfect conditions.  We are hoping for big miles today. 

Rose Lake

We hike by several small lakes, whose shores are dotted with large campsites. Our lunch stop is to be the Maiden Peak Ski hut.  It is a unique, octagon shaped structure mainly used by cross country skiers in the winter months.

It was equipped with solar lighting, rugged mountain furniture and a large wood burning stove.  Once lunch is consumed, its time to walk.

The dense green forest opens into a large burn area, that looks like a breeding area for telephone poles.  The trail turns from dirt to sand mixed with dark ash left over from the long past fire.

You feel as though you’ve walked into a black and white movie, and you and the colorful flowers nestled in between downed logs have been computer generated.  Even the sky is painted shades of grey.  We look for a place to bed down, but the landscape is devoid of flat spaces to set up, and/or areas clear of downed trees.  The burn area melds into small robust pines varying in heights, all competing for nutrients and sunlight.  Dead trees give way to live ones and we are once again in dense forest.  All day we are followed by thunder heads. Late into the afternoon thunder echoes in the distance and the clouds above begin to “leak” ever so slightly.  It is now starting to get dark and we have passed a few “acceptable” spots, hoping to get as far as we can before the skies open up again.  We are trying to make it to a small lake that is near the trail for our water for dinner and tomorrow’s breakfast, but as the skies darken from the moisture rich clouds and the now settled sun, we make a hasty camp on a flat spot adjacent the trail in order to beat the rain.  As I finish setting up camp, Paul breaks for water, and returns saying that if we would have gone another 10 minutes we would have reached the lake and prefab campsites… figures.  This seems to happen to us regularly, but then there are also times when we pass good spots to camp and end up walking way longer than we’d like (as in hours sometimes), to find another place acceptable for camping.  We ate our dinner and prepped our tent and gear in anticipation of another major soaking.  We secretly hope this preparation is for not.