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Lost Lake,
Mt Hood National Forest |
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Ambition, as unreliable as it is, has always had a funny way of setting plans in motion for me. This weekend, being super ambitious, I glanced at a map and decided I wanted to snow camp at a lake that was not yet frozen. That is, it had to be at a low enough elevation as to not be covered in snow. The night before, I packed up a crap load of gear totaling over 35 pounds and tossed it into the Runner. As soon as I closed the rear door, I heard, "Daddy? 'sniff', I want to come too 'sniff'". Amber, with her little rocket voice and tears pooling up in her eyes, wanted to come with her daddy to this magical place, not accessible during summer months as the camping season is quite busy. Adding 8 more pounds of gear while giggling, (7 pounds is my summer base pack weight), I closed up the rig. We left early the next morning before stopping at Starbucks for hot chocolate, coffee, and scones. Arriving at Lost Lake Road, I ran into snow later than expected and drove to the last hairpin turn where I could get a good parking spot, outside of the apex.
The snow deepened quickly and significantly above 2400 feet as this was as far as I wanted to drive up. We jumped out, geared up after taking some picks, and plodded towards our destination, Lost Lake. I planned on camping, maybe, at the lodge as it had less snow and would be semi-sheltered from the wind, if there was any. The wind here however, was chilling as we had to add a couple layers to warm up.
30 minutes of hiking got us fully warmed up and we shed a layer before the sun came out, threatening to overheat us. By my calculations, we parked about 4.5 miles from the lake. Amber's longest trip to this date was our backpack to Five Mile Island via the Hoh River Trail, in the Olympic National Park. She handled the five mile jaunt over flat terrain fine and had energy to spare, after a noon-time nap. This trip was much harder as it was about five miles in to the lodge with a 900 foot climb while wearing snowshoes. They say every pound on the feet is equal to five pounds on the back, hence, Amber had her work cut out for her.
Aware of my young daughter's limited stamina, I made sure to bring everything we needed in case we had to camp somewhere other than planned. On our way up, an old pickup passed us asking if we had seen their son or his girlfriend. We said "no", but I agreed to pass along a message to Jesse, their son, and his girlfriend Jen, of their concern for their safety. Shortly after the encounter, we reached Jesse's car, parked and covered with snow from the night before. It had their names dug out of the snow on the windows and we moved on.
We crested over the top of the climb to gaze at the short remaining corridor, leading to the park's entrance. Amber was getting a little tired as we had a sit while she wolfed down a Power Bar and a king sized Snickers. This little girl eats like a bird at home, but get her out into the wilderness and stand back!
With a lot of time left in the day, we reached the entrance to the park as I was nearing the limits of familiarity with the area. We took the road passing the entrance booth, obviously closed for winter, and headed down a side road, leading to the lodge.
On our way to the lodge, we ran into Jesse and Jen. They looked amazed at the fact that Amber had hiked all this way and was still kicking to move on. Jesse asked me if we were heading towards the cabin. "I thought all the cabins were locked up this time of year", I said. He explained to me that this particular cabin is for public winter travelers in need of a place to stay. I thanked him as he mentioned the idea to bring candles in the future. At the lodge, Amber and I ate and talked about the cabin. Was it a shack? A drafty, lame, rat infested hole?
The day could not be any better and I reluctantly convinced Amber that we seek out this "cabin". Both of us were already tired as I remembered Jen telling us it at the other end of the lake, a mile further. We revved up our courage and set back up the road to find the cabin. The cabin was quite easy to find, "just follow their tracks:, I thought. Amber was growing tired as she should have been. "Let's just camp here Daddy.", she said. We've been at it for well over five miles now and were both pooped. We hobbled a bit further to a shelter and saw just beyond that was the cabin.
I could not believe my eyes. It was incredible. It was new. It was serene. It was all ours! Amber could not have convinced me at that moment that she was tired. Fumbling over the snow at an all-out pace, she ran up to the cabin and told me it was locked. The door simply had a little wind lock on it as the pad locks for all the windows were gone as well. It was indeed open to the public and the public was us. We took the time to open the shutters, letting in some light.
Taking off our wet clothes and changing into dry ones, I scouted around for dry wood as there was not any in the box. Jesse and Jen left us smoldering coals which I quickly brought a fire raging to life. As the fire burned, the night time temperatures outside, dropped. At 28 outside, the cabin was a toasty 50 degrees. We hung some clothes to dry as I redressed to go fetch some water from the lake. Amber wanted to come with me as I was not about to stop her. While fetching the water, the sun set behind the lake's surrounding mountains and I heard Amber approaching behind me. "You know? I would not be here, in this place without a dad like you. I love you Daddy." I nearly wept. I've dreamed my whole hiking life of stumbling across a lake, with a cabin, all mine, in the woods. Not only do I have that, I have it with my best friend as well; a dream come true.
Water treated, ducks laughed at for being in the frigid water, we retired to the cabin where the fire had set a landslide of snow off of the roof while scaring the heck out of Amber. That night, cards were our companion as we snacked and drank hot chocolate. Night fell and the fire raged as I constantly got my butt handed to me playing Go Fish. I think she cheats. When the cards started flying, along with relentless laughter, I knew it was time for sleep. We snuggled in our sleeping bags on our respective bunks and drifted off to sleep at the early hour of 7:30.
Morning came too soon as I wondered how much snow settled overnight. I could not believe my eyes as all of our tracks from the previous day were gone. One to two foot deep snowshoe tracks were obliterated by fresh snowfall and it was still snowing. Hiking out in the snow, I thought, would be a great end to the trip. Just as soon as I thought that, I started to feel uneasy. The truck. With 18 inches of new snow, we were only at 3200 feet, while the truck was at 2400 feet. Where would the freezing level be?
I woke Amber up and we started to pack. She slept almost 12 hours on this trip and was feeling fine. I made some oatmeal for her before cleaning up and heading out the door, keeping my recent concerns to myself.
The snow was deep and the hiking, hard. We were making great time even with Amber taking periodic, purposeful face plants in the snow. With Amber looking like Santa, we shuffled on.
"Where is the darn freezing level?", I asked out softly to myself. Four hours and four king sized Snickers bars later found us back at the truck. The truck was buried and with only nine inches of clearance, I would be plowing just moving forward. I scrambled to load Amber into the warming truck, change clothes, and dig out the truck in hopes of making forward progression in the incredibly deep powder. I did not have chains as I verified the weather reports and parked low anyway. We took off in full four-wheel-drive with powder shooting up over the truck like in some jeep commercial, racing towards Hood River, trying to keep momentum. The truck hammered through the snow with aplomb as we passed many sheriffs on snowmobiles. Apparently a freak snowstorm is what hit us, overlooked by the local meteorologists. We made it to Hood River, that received over six inches of the white stuff, and grabbed some lunch before heading home to hit up our movie, just in time. Afterwards, decorate the Christmas Tree.
Postscript: On this particular weekend, a family was stranded in their truck with diabetic children, just a mile south from where we stayed overnight. My experiences paid in full on this trip as we were never in any danger even without the cabin. After getting home and seeing the family was lost, the Hood River's Sheriff's department was apparently following my tracks while trying to find them. I immediately called Hood River and let them know where we were and who was there; no one. They found them the next day on a parallel road, as everyone was okay. |
