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Eagle Creek,
Columbia River Gorge |
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The desire to climb was still there as the roads got worse. The snow plow equipment had broken down a week ago and left nothing but a deeply rutted, single lane groove, sporting three to four foot walls just three feet of either side of the Runner. With no place, or ability, to turn around for miles, we finally slid our way into the buried snow park and were able to turn around. Originally, this was supposed to be a trip report on summiting Mt. St. Helens, but after nearly getting stuck, Amber and I tried our luck at Eagle Creek. I thought the grade would be more suitable for the weather conditions that we have been experiencing here in the PNW.
We arrived to an empty parking lot and geared up under dripping skies. There was more snow than I have ever seen at the low trailhead. I heaved the 40 pound pack on my back before Amber and I set out to find a place to sleep for the night.
Immediately, the trail was trashed from all the melting ice. Car-hood sized blocks blocked the pathway and scattered rock and mud over the nearly impossible route. We carefully made our way through the ice and muck, trying not to ruin our snowshoes.
About a half mile up, we called it quits. Apparently being watched by several people to see how far we would get. Amber and I could have continued, but the work greatly outweighed the fun. Something I learned on the PCT was if you are not having any fun, something is wrong. We turned around and swore not to go near Eagle Creek for the rest of the year.
After gearing down, we took off in a panic as people were showing up to test their luck. I foolishly forgot our snowshoes that were dripping mud next to the truck and had to turn around at Cascade Locks to pick them up. By the time we got back to the trailhead, they were gone. I prayed they offered the crack heads that stole a kid's snowshoes some long-time highs and sped off in a huff, but had a great night celebrating the new year.
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