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Wahtum Lake, Mt.
Hood National Forest |
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Stunning weather. It was all that my area of the Pacific Northwest has had for quite some time. But with fall readily approaching, I wanted to get out as much as possible before the rains started. As Amber has expressed numerous times her interest in fishing, I wanted to spend some quiet time in the woods. And with those ideas a grand plan was born. The plan included fishing at Wahtum Lake, then a hike to Mud Lake for some exploration. After that, if there are no places to camp, we would scramble up to Tomlike and set up camp there. The plan sounded good, at least, to me. We got to Wahtum Lake early and hiked around to find a primo fishing spot. To Amber's surprise, the fish did not bite. She did not catch the 400 fish within the first hour she planned to. Indeed, nothing bit. Patience runs short in a child but eight years old as we explored around the lake, crossing the log jam at it's outlet.
Since Wahtum did not seem to inviting, we decided to take a trail encompassing the lake, to an old Jeep track leading to Rainy Lake. Along the way, I could not help but notice the plethora of fungus, preposterous in size to the likes I have never seen. We continued until we bisected the Anthill Tail, turning east and heading downhill towards Mud Lake.
Amber has always wanted to see Mud Lake since I showed her pictures of my trip last May of 2006. In May, it was hard not to step on newts as they were abundant everywhere one looked. Although upon arrival, Amber and I noticed the lake had taken on a different form, a softer one, a one more inviting. The smell from the tall grass and wildflowers permeated the air with a pleasing invitation that led me to believe this would be the place to camp. The many bald faced hornets that seemed to be the summer's last remaining bugs convinced Amber that a camp higher up might be the more pleasant option.
After fetching 5 liters of water from a spring coming out of the rocks that fed the lake, I loaded the now 45 pound pig onto my back with a grunt. Normally my total base pack weight is less than the weight of just my pack now, but the 45 pounds I was carrying was bruising my hips as I was simply not used to all the weight. We made out way slowly to the scree field that I usually climb in the spring. Although we could take the trail, the scramble route shaved off about 2.5 miles.
The steep, sometimes 60 degree slope proved too much for Amber as she had a sit and started to weep. Unlike our last trip, I totally understood and stopped, removed the SUV from my back and sat with her. "I want to climb it Daddy. I don't know why I am scared." This was, after all, her decision. After 30 minutes of comforting her, along with a snickers bar, confidence returned as she said "Let's do it" with a smile. The lake below us became smaller and smaller as I was having a difficult time keeping up with this little wonder girl.
Tired, we reached the top and scouted out a place to set up camp. The breeze felt good as it was a bit warm on the east side of the mountain while climbing. I knew that at the top of the saddle, after the last band of trees, there was a site that sported some smooth, flat ground. We thumped our way up the mountain and quickly found the spot I thought existed. I rushed to set up camp while Amber worked on a fire pit.
Camp all set, we had a short siesta. Afterwards, Amber suggested that we try for the summit before it got too late. Here was an eight year old that just two hours ago did not want to scramble, now she wants to summit. I did not hesitate. We grabbed the camera as she led. We went over the summit just before the wind increased in it's ferocity. "You are so incredible Daddy. I would never be here if it weren't for you." She was right, at least, at this age. Spending moments like this as often as I could would burn a memory into her head that I hopped would last a lifetime. During the descent we called Heather. As they spoke, her eyes began to water up, but refused to return home given the fact that tomorrow's adventures would far surpass today's.
6:30 a.m. and After a brutally windy night Amber was the first to wake. I had grand plans on sleeping in until nine, but the anticipation for the day was too strong for Amber. I tried my best to pack in the morning, but the winds were still a sustained 20 miles per hour. It was far better than last nights 40 mile per hour gusts, but to keep the tent from blowing away required strategy. 45 minutes later, we were stomping our way down through the tree band to the saddle. Following the faint trail out was fun and easy. Being finally out of the wind was rather a nice change as it gets to you after a day or so.
Taking the Anthill Trail all the way back to the truck awarded our efforts with beautiful views of the surrounding hillsides as well as Tanner Butte and a great view of Wahtum Lake. The parking lot was filling up fast as we quickly changed into clean clothes and sped out before the crowds figured out what a great day it was going to be.
After a shower at home and more clean clothes, we headed out to Stevenson for some fishing and for me, some R&R. Amber caught her first thing. We threw it back as it did not look very tasty.
Trying to look for a good fishing spot was more work than I was prepared to do. After a few more casts, I called Heather and asked her about Horning's Hideout. Horning's Hideout was a little fishing and recreational spot near Hillsboro, not too far from our house. We quickly sped there as they were open until dusk.
A boat, a pole, and some wriggling bait. What more would we need? There was shade here and I was tired. I had a sit while Amber continued to fulfill the dream of the big catch.
Fishing ended and it was time for the last thing on the weekend's game plan. Mr. Bean's Vacation was playing and Amber has been wanting to see it since the trailer hit the tube. As we are both Rowan Atkinson fans, I thought it a perfect end to a busy, albeit gratifying weekend.
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