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Timberline Trail,
Mt. Hood |
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After taking a weekend off from hiking to catch up on quality family time, I decided that right now was perfect for backpacking around Mt Hood. Although I tried this hike in October of 2005, I had gained much experienced over the year and was physically conditioned for the speed at which I planned to go. I drove to Timberline Lodge and set out with Cairn Basin in mind for camp. The miles moved by quickly as I reached the Sandy River lookout in a sand storm. Part of the ridge had fallen away, taking the trail with it, creating a blinding, sandy haze. Coated in silt, I bushwhacked to where I thought the trail would be and managed to pick it back up for the plod down to the Sandy River crossing.
Taking the time to clean the silt from all my gear, I was finally able to take some pictures. After cleaning and munching on salami and crackers, I shouldered my pack, heading down the skyline trail after passing Ramona Falls. This year, I did not feel the need to hike towards the mountain and ford the Muddy Fork along the PCT, so I took the Skyline Trail portion of the trail instead.
The Skyline Trail's bridge over the Sandy was out but, fortunately, I managed to find a detour just recently made.
Crossing the Sandy River, I worked my way up the ridge to the PCT and Bald Mountain junction. I bore straight (East), and worked my way up, past McGee Creek. The miles were relaxing as I remember that last year, I was sore by this time. I did have a heel blister as I have been averaging 3.5 miles per hour so far, with breaks. My shoes were also quite thrashed given the last four weeks of activity. I made it to a meadow below the McNeil Point junction and took a long, well deserved rest. I have never seen these ponds grassed over as they have always been filled with water. I thought this rather interesting.
The shelter and it's surroundings were all mine, that is, until two hours later when a swarm of 12 people moved in. I made a nature call and fetched some water, not in the same vicinity, mind you.
Not wanting to camp with everyone else, I found a great spot well off of the trail, complete with views you could not achieve from anywhere else in the area. As I gathered water, I noticed micro worms in Ladd Creek. I scouted around for springs and found one high behind the shelter. I cringed at the thought of watching the others drink straight from the creek. Back at camp, tarp pitched, I read Thoreau and snacked on Ramen before calling it a night at around 8:30p.m..
I slept fitfully and awoke early to some hot cocoa and breakfast bars. Packed up in about 10 minutes, I hit the trail long before the others. I needed the trail to myself this morning, and knew if I left before any of them, I would get my wish. This way, I could take my time and pictures without leapfrogging all day along the trail.
Surprised to still see snow up here, I snapped a few more picks in disbelief. The water looked as good as it tasted. Being this close to the source, I usually choose not to treat my water. Part of practicing ultra lightweight backpacking are the philosophies you need to learn to make it work, e.g. choosing water sources.
I hiked down, into, and out of Elliot Canyon while on my way to Cloud Cap Campground. I quickly passed the junction leading to Copper Spur and soon would be crossing Lamberson Spur, the highest point along the Timberline Trail. I gathered water from a snowfield and scurried on, over loose scree.
I was now in a place on Mt. Hood that I have never been. Because of this, the time flew by, undetected by me as the miles did the same. The views were extensive as only such a day could provide.
I reached Gnarl Ridge and had a sit. I was focused primarily on miles during this trip and felt like I had not actually taken anything in. Maybe over the last weeks, I took in all I needed to. Nevertheless, I forced myself to slow down and enjoy this time I had off. My friend Bob, over the years, taught me something that changed my life. He taught me that life should be savored as well as everything in it. And with that savoring, comes moderation. With moderation, comes balance.
I sat a while, admiring my surroundings and pondered on what I had learned so far this trip. Satisfied with this realization, I nodded, shouldered my pack and hiked on to Lamberson Butte. I took time to look down into Newton Clark Canyon, realizing the fact that this thing was easily as large as the Toutle Canyon on Mt. St. Helens.
Lamberson Butte came into view as I wondered if there was a way I could climb it. It did not look possible without ropes, a harness, belays, and a lot of prayers.
Winding my way around the butte, I came to the Elk Meadows junction via Gnarl Ridge Trail. It was closed, no doubt, due to the local fire. This portion of the Timberline Trail was closed as well just a short time ago. I noticed more helicopters as time went on, transporting retardant and water to the fire.
Crossing Newton Creek was uneventful as I knew it would be. The majority of the Newton Clark Glacier is just west of here making up Clark Creek. That one only concerned me slightly.
Climbing high once again gave me stunning views of Gnarl Ridge and Lamberson Butte. I soaked it in as I promised myself I would. At this point, my heel was really starting to become problematic. The blister that boiled up at the beginning of the trip has magnified. Sand and pebbles were getting trapped in the heel cup of my worn out shoes, grinding them into my blister, causing it to duly bleed.
I cleaned my feet and shrugged my shoulders as there was nothing more I could do. I whistled while climbing, eventually arriving at the edge of Mt. Hood Meadows. With it's massive fields and wild flowers abound, I thought it looked better now than ever during winter.
Little springs were everywhere, making sounds that bluffed their actual size. As I had all the water I need for the rest of the trip, I would not need any from these and chose to just gaze instead.
Half way through Mt. Hood. Meadows, I spotted what the choppers were working on. As it interrupted my positive thinking, I turned away from it, the poles, and all the ski lift hardware that now graced the hillsides. Just after the meadows, I came across a nice couple heading to them. They said they were just out for the day and I queried how hard the ford of White Creek was. They gave me some general suggestions of not following the flags and I thanked them sincerely, as I enjoyed the conversation and set about my way.
The White Creek drainage was really quite a sight to behold. It was about a quarter mile across and 4 branches of the "creek" currently ran through it. I plodded down the steep switchbacks, looking for a place I could cross easily. I found the route that the nice couple had told me about and washed up on the other side of the river. I was almost sad to think of the hike ending as I had learned much on my trip.
Hiking up the PCT towards the lodge, heels bleeding, I could not wait for vacation to start. I always like to backpack on the first weekend of vacation. It clears my head and settles me into a serene state of mind, allowing me to enjoy my vacation more fruitfully.
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