Day 12 (August 28)

Very light rain this morning, almost friendly. I still get sour when the tent fly gets heavier, though.

Just a few miles to go to our next resupply spot, Big Lake Youth Camp. This is a 7th-Day Adventist summer camp just off the PCT that has a hiker-friendly reputation. They will hold supply packages, and rumored to even offer meals, showers, and laundry. We're hoping to arrive in time for lunch, and happy to take whatever else is offered.

As we walk into camp, though, it's more Omega Man than Emerald City -- the summer is over, and the youths are gone. Maybe that's a relief. A note on the door appologizes for the absense of staff (and meals) but invites us in to find our packages, and help ourselves to showers and laundry.

Cleaning up is a beautiful thing. I may have mentioned the dust. Our resupply package is ready, and another with an elegant warm jacket on loan from Rick. Can't give enough thanks for that one. Some other nice treats in there as well.

As we're waiting for our socks to dry, Deb makes herself useful organizing the hiker box. It's actually a huge amount of free stuff, sprawling across several boxes. By the time we left it was clearly sorted - sweet food, savory food, toiletries, camping supplies, each in their own box and with the trash all cleared out. What a gal! She puts together a couple days' food for us as well, in case we run into another unavailable resupply like we did at Ollalie.

Many gracious thanks to the Big Lake Youth Camp, whoever you are. On the way out, we pass by a landmark that doesn't mean to much to us, but is a great accomplishment to the northbound through-hikers: 2000 miles north of the PCT southern terminus at the Mexican border. Some jolly fellow has marked the spot with little pine cones.

We make camp a little further down trail under Mt Washington. Small steady rain slowly turns the dust into mud.

Day 11 (August 27)

That little dot is the moon; Rockpile Lake is just out of frame

Woke to no wind and clear skies, the sun warming us from the east and the moon setting over the peak of Rockpile Mountain to the west. A thin layer of ice coats the inside of the tent fly. Across the lake, a line of deer is slowly marching south, and we soon follow.

It's as fine a day for hiking as anyone could want. Excellent views of the craggy mountain Three-Fingered Jack, but our day is still mostly defined by the thousands of acres of charred forest that surround us as we descend. At lower elevations, though, some recovery has begun -- wildflowers and tiny pines are springing up in the graveyard.

As we near US highway 20 at Santiam Pass, we're greeted by a Forest Service ranger. Well, he was friendly enough, but "inspected" is more correct than "greeted" -- luckily our paperwork was in order (Oregon requires wilderness permits, but they are self-issued at the trailhead, meaning that you fill out the form, leave one copy in the box, and take the other with you.) He says the Ollalie fire closure is still in effect, and a new fire is burning to the south of us, but the danger zone is still a little west of the PCT and has not caused any closure yet. Well, I guess that's good. Lots of fire around here.

Across Highway 20 the burn area continues for a while, then peters out in the middle of a large cross-country ski park. Hard to read those maps at the top of a ten-foot high pole, but it looks like this place is riddled with great trails. We find a nice soft spot off to the side and make camp. Weather is warmer, and dinner is great!

Day 10 (August 26)

Woke up to smokeless skies -- maybe the firefighters have finally won? The morning is bright and hot, and we're enjoying our sunscreen. A bit of wind, and in ten minutes' time the temperature's down 20 degrees and the sky's completely clouded over. "Like God switched on the AC" says a passing hiker. We're steadily climbing up to Shale Lake, and before long we're in the clouds, mist in every direction. This is a gorgeous piece of trail, and we love the misty mountain lakes and meadows, and sudden cliff views into the distance.

One step further and we've entered a ghost forest -- trees either bone white or charred black, as far as we can see in any direction. We've reached the edge of the great B&B fire of 2003, which destroyed almost 100,000 acres of Oregon forest. The contrast of today's chilly winds with 2003's inferno plays bizarre tricks on the mind, like we're stuck in a dream. The landscape is utterly otherworldly.

We finally end our day at Rockpile Lake at the top of Rockpile mountain, a small high island of green that miraculously survived the fire. The winds are fierce but we find a campsite with some shelter and hunker down.

Real bacon - how does she do it?

We settle in to a delicious dinner of ramen carbonara, which takes a little longer than we'd planned... we're not actually carrying a stove, or even a cookpot, on this trip. Deb's designed all the dinners to be cooked just by soaking in water. A brilliant and well-researched endeavor, she filled up pages with notes on various grains and pastas and their soaking times. This seemed like a great idea in July in Brooklyn, and it's been good eatin' for the last week.  Now, though, we're faced with weather we did not anticipate, and the cold takes a toll in both speed and satisfaction. Granted, tonight is still delicious, but if the weather continues to head in this direction we'll soon be longing for a hot meal.

Day 9 (August 25)

Smoke over Pyramid Butte

A gorgeous morning, exciting views of the growing smoke plumes to our west and giant twin-rotor helicoptors dropping water bombs. Still no water for us, but more and more snow banks on the trail. Finally we come to a few high mountain snowmelt ponds that yield excellent water. Surprisingly, there are still no northbounders coming though. Maybe they're all waiting out the fire because they don't want to "cheat" the hike with the shuttle.

How do you get off this thing?

Deb enjoys the Breitenbush

As the snow gets thicker, the lack of clear northbound footprints presents a bit of a challenge, and we're soon staring at the map, GPS, compass, various cairns, and scratching our heads a bit. We've climbed to the top of the Jefferson Park butte, and can't find the trail down. It should be pretty much due south, but it's just not there. After a half hour of following presumed cairns and phantom footprints, it's clear that we're royally lost far offtrail, and we start the slow bushwack down the wrong side of the butte, trying to right ourselves with a steady southeast heading. It's great to see a different side of the landscape, but slow going -- what a difference a trail makes! Still, as descents down from a rugged butte go, it's not bad. We successfully connect with the Breitenbush River and, after a refreshing dip, follow it upstream to the trail.

Now THAT's a trail closure!

Southbound again, we're almost immediately greeted with a mess of red ribbons and signage. It's a large, very clear closure of the PCT -- and we're on the wrong side of it! Looks like the closure's been expanded, and northbound hikers are being diverted to the shuttle via the Breitenbush Trail instead of the PCT. So we spent last night in the forbidden zone -- well, that explains all the smoke and the lack of footprints.

Our heroes

Onwards -- the heat of the day and we're facing a nasty sunscreen shortage, rationed down to nose tips only. To our great fortune, a pair of generous campers named Jane & Tundra save the day with absolutely the best tube of sunscreen ever! Thanks a million, Jane & Tundra!

We camp at the south end of a small unnamed lake right on the trail. No other options in this steep area, but this is a pretty sweet spot. To the left of Mt. Jefferson, exactly in the direction of last night's camp, huge plumes of smoke are still billowing up, but here the air is fresh and the water's delicious.

Day 8 (August 24)

We're up early heading south, looking for the trail closure point, which should be in about 16 miles.  Good spirits, except I seem to have misplaced the big bottle of sunscreen.  We have a tiny tube left, it'll have to last us. Hot today.

We're just about at Triangle Lake, where we expect the closure sign, when we're overtaken by another southbound hiker, Big Time from Virginia.  He's the only southbound through hiker we've seen -- meaning that he's attempting to complete the entire trail, from Canada to Mexico, in one trip. Due to the usual weather patterns in the Washington Cascades and the High Sierra in California, this is a more difficult approach than a northbound through hike, and has to be done quickly in a very narrow window.

[I've got my own less stringent ideas about what a "through" hike is -- basically, I think that if you're getting someplace, rather than just ending up back at your house or car, then that's a through hike.  But on the PCT Deb & I are classified, by those who care (and there are many!), as section hikers, not through hikers.]

Heed that ribbon!

The three of us continue south together, looking for the big official trail closure and never finding it. A small ribbon hanging on the sign to the Triangle Lake Horse Camp is the closest thing we'd seen, so after a mile of backtracking we follow this trail to the road and find a handwritten note to wait for the shuttle. A very subtle closure; I wonder how many southbound hikers went straight through into the fire zone.

Big Time is ahead of us and luckily flags the shuttle truck. Our driver is the friendly W.W., a botanist with the Mt. Hood division of the Forest Service. The ride south to Breitenbush Campground is long, bumpy, and smokey.  Forest Service firefighters are rushing by in 4x4's and huge all-terrain firetrucks; a few recently extinguished patches attest to their efforts. Helicopters buzz overhead. Passing Ollalie Lake campground, we see the empty tents and folding chairs of campers who were evacuated in a rush.

Our hero, scanning the
horizon for danger

Along the way, W.W. elaborates on the bark beetle problem. The huge acreage of dead lodgepole pines makes these fires very difficult to put out, since there's so much standing dry deadwood. The beetles are native to the area, but their population used to be kept in check by frequent cold snaps, which have been less common over the last decade. They've pretty much come to expect these fires every August, and fight them the best they can. The Ollalie Lake fire has been stubbornly spreading to new spots, and the radio blares with news of a flare up near Pyramid Butte. On a cheerier note, he tells of plans for combining selective timber harvesting in the Warm Springs Reservation with a huckleberry planting program. Everybody loves huckleberries!

We're dropped off at the PCT crossing near Breitenbush Lake and proceed south, looking to camp soon. In the fracas we've unfortunately failed to get water for the night, and we pass dry gully after dry gully.  Finally I spot a small snow bank a little offtrail -- that will do! We tuck in for the night in a lovely little meadow in the foothills of Mt. Jefferson, with a beautiful smokey sunset to the west.

Day 7 (August 23)

On Timothy Lake, a small fishing boat appears and quickly fades into the morning mists. Dusty hike to Clackamus Meadow. The horses that we don't see much of sure do leave a lot of presents on the trail, which dessicate into dungy dust... dust, dust, dust.

Historic Clackamus Ranger Station is closed -- only open Thursday through Sunday and we've arrived Monday morning. No restrooms or trashcan for us, no info on the Ollalie Lake fire closure, but worst of all I have to stare through the window at stacks of free pamphlets and trail maps, utterly unavailable. There are dozens of trails around here and I sure would love a map. There is a nice water fountain though, so we fill up the bottles and wash off some dust.

A particularly fine huckleberry

We hike on southward, and for the first time find that we have the trail all to ourselves. Solitude is nice, and we can put the the worries of the fire from our minds and enjoy the scenery (and delicious huckleberries) of the Warm Springs Indian Reservation. Thanks, Warm Springs Tribes!

It's kind of eerie, though. Where are all the northbounders? Finally one comes tromping toward us through the dust. Bad news -- the original fire (from a lightening strike) has spread to several places, the trail and store are closed indefinitely, and the way around is a 30-mile walk along the highway that rejoins the trail at Clackamus. The only reason we're seeing this fellow is because he proudly bent the rules a little and bushwacked back to the trail.

We camp by a seeping spring (sadly not warm) to look over the maps and make a plan. We resolve to continue southbound, even at the risk of being forced to backtrack all the way to Clackamus.

Finally just at dusk another hiker, Just Dave, arrives at the spring with good news: a Forrest Service truck will shuttle hikers around the fire zone and back to the PCT on the other side. We'll see a big warning sign at the official trail closure point with instructions to the shuttle pickup, which runs until 6pm. Compared to walking 30 miles on the highway, that sounds pretty good to us. He also explains the mystery of the evil green moss -- it's just ordinary Spanish moss that grows out of control when the trees die, and the real culprit is the bark beetle, whose work we encountered last year in Slovakia.

Day 6 (August 22)

Chilly last night. Crossed Highway 26 and found a water cache that generously included a bottle of beer, but it's a little too early in the day. A sign at the parking lot trailhead warns of trail closures ahead due to a fire at the Ollalie Lake campground, where we plan to resupply in a few days. Hopefully the trail and camp store will be open by the time we get there, but just in case supplies are unavailable, we begin to ration gently.

Misty rain most of the day, but we get a ray of sunshine during lunch at Little Crater Lake - crazy blue water that tastes great. Passed a few northbound hikers who've seen the fire, all say it's small and being fought well, so it shouldn't be a problem for us. We'll pass a ranger station tomorrow, so hopefully we can get the straight story.

Camped on the shore of Timothy Lake, lovely but dusty. Lots of trash around here. The Timothy Lake car-camping set seems to regard the PCT mainly as a bathroom. In fact, they seem to regard almost everything as a bathroom. Use your trowels, people!

Day 5 (August 21)

Goodbye to Hood

After a big breakfast, we bid goodbye to the Timberline Lodge. Sorry there's no photo of the lodge, Deb took some with her camera but the computer here doesn't have an sdcard slot. It's an ancient Pentium 3 running Ubuntu, no foolin', and while I'm all for recycling old kit, the javascript-heavy blogspot interface doesn't fare too well. So I tried using the iphone for Day 4, but heavens did that turn out ugly. Now the iphone's all I have, so I presume things will be ugly for the foreseeable. Sorry, I'll fix it when I get a chance.

Anyway, there's plenty to say about Timberline Lodge, and most of it's got nothing to do with the computer room. It was build as a WPA project under FDR. It's vaguely shaped like Mt Hood, if you squint right. It still has skiing and snowboarding year 'round, though Mt Hood's glaciers and snow banks are shrinking. It was used for some of the exterior shots of the Overlook Hotel in The Shining, but there's no hedge maze here. It was slightly decrepit, but restored to it's original beauty in the 70's, and now the new operators got "recovery" money to bring it up to modern accessibility code. They have a glass case with a hardhat and a shovel and a plaque that says "Shovel Ready!" and a picture of President Obama, all pretty cheesy but it's nice to know that, even if rarely, something truly beautiful gets "bailed out."

With a full load of food and water, we hiked south along the high, dusty trail with Mt Hood behind us. Passed a couple of northbound riders -- the entire PCT is designated both pedestrian and equestrian, but the horses have been very few. As we descend, we're once again surrounded by the dying pines draped (Deb says "festooned") with moss. So many fallen trees that it's hard to find a spot for the tent.

[Note - I've gone through the pictures and it looks like we don't have a good one of the lodge afterall. There are plenty of nice ones floating around, but sadly they don't show all the "shovel-ready" scaffolding.]

Day 4 (August 20)

Some kind soul has lashed some small tree trunks together into a nice little footbridge across the main Sandy River; crossing is much easier than the Muddy Fork.  "Sandy" is no lie -- the ground all around here is fine sand, and combined with the heat, lush green plants, and buzzing insects it's got an almost tropical feel, interrupted by the occasional surviving lodgepole pine or snowbank.

Deb and I have decided to split up! I'm taking the high road, the Paradise Park Loop Trail, and Deb's staying low on the PCT.

Deb says "This feels like paradise, so Paradise Park must really be something. Lots of little waterfalls and fields of wildflowers amid amazing views. Btw, I've discovered that a sleeveless dress is the ultimate hiking uniform for this kind of trail."

Mt Hood from Paradise Park

Paradise Park is indeed well-named, a peaceful high mountain meadow in the shadow of Hood's peak. Beautiful views in every direction and a little snow on the trail, even in late August. I grabbed some snow to save for later.

Meeting up at the other end of the Paradise Park Loop Trail should be a cinch, but it turns out there is another shortcut trail in the middle. After some creative worrying I went north on the PCT and found Deb waiting for me there. We celebrated with lunch and a sno-cone flavored with Kool-aid and Emergen-C -- a delicious way to plow through the many switchbacks down and up the Zigzag River canyon. (I read that the river is actually named for the switchbacks!)

We made it to Timberline Lodge about 3:30, not bad at all. Checked into our little room, did laundry, washed dishes, had an excellent meal, generally enjoyed civilization -- though it's tricky to get our minds in mode even after just 4 days in the woods. A little red wine, a short dip in the hot tub, and then early to bed.

[Edited August 31 -- this post was really messed up and missing a lot of stuff!]

Day 3 (August 19)

We've got it in our heads to try to stay in the fabled Timberline Lodge on Mt. Hood tomorrow, so we're up early to do a big push today so we arrive right at check-in time and maximize the posh lodge hours. We did 8 miles the first day, 12 the second -- 50% more, so doing 18 today should be just about right. No way we're doing 27 tomorrow of course, although some of the hardcore northbound through-hikers routinely do 30-mile days in this part of the trail. A lot of them look kind of grumpy though.

After Lolo pass, we took the scenic route, the Timberline Trail, to Ramona Falls. This used to be the official PCT but the eroding trail conditions made it impassible for horses, so the PCT was relocated along a lower and shorter path. Awesome views from Bald Mountain.  Lots of lovely glacier melt in the trail, and in a few places we had to tip-toe around harrowing mudslides that plummetted far down the slopes below... just don't look down.  Crossed the Muddy Fork of the Sandy River in two sections; eventually we broke down and just waded across the rapids barefoot.

Ramona Falls is a nice reward.  A helpful sign informs northbound hikers that the Timberline Trail is a tad perilous; we southbounders get no such courtesy! Hiked on a little further to rejoin the official PCT and made camp in a forest of lush rhododendron and dying pines dripping with a strange mossy parasite.  Looks like we did about 17.5 miles, not bad!

Day 2 (August 18)

Mt. Hood from Buck Peak

Continued up the Eagle Creek Trail today, leaving the creek and heading towards Indian Springs, where we lunched and joined the official PCT heading south. Great views through and above the pine forests, also the Cascades to the north. Weather continues to be very kind and sunny.

Saw an excellent giant slug. Thought we saw eagles hovering in the updraft at Waucoma Ridge but on closer inspection they were just extremely handsome crows.

Our first views of the glacial peak of Mt. Hood, where we'll be heading, but thankfully not over the top. Camped in a cute site on Buck Peak.

Day 1 (August 17)

Deb says I'm being a little too cagey in failing to report the true purpose of our trip.  We're not heading to Ashland just 'cause, we're going to visit her dear friend Sharon who's recently moved there. Sorry, folks, for being stingy with information; I'm just a little shy on the internet.  To prove my good faith, the fourth digit of my social security number is: 8.

With that out of the way, thanks a million to Joel and Tess for putting us up, feeding us breakfast, and driving us to the Eagle Creek trailhead!  Best humans ever!

The Eagle Creek trail is lovely but very busy, even on a Tuesday.  This is as grand a creek as I ever saw, alternating between deep clear pools, rolling rapids, wiggly slot canyons, and splendid falls.  We took a little dip in the creek, and found ourselves a nice campsite nearby.  On the way we passed though Tunnel Falls, a stunning miracle of both nature and trail husbandry. Yes, the trail goes right through the rock, right under the falls!  And it's extremely pretty to boot.

Portland (August 16)

Admiring Mt Hood or Oliver's Finger?

Our destination is Ashland, an out-of-the-way town in southwest Oregon that we've heard some nice things about. We really need to visit.
Question: How should we get to Ashland?
Answer: Looks like the best way is to fly to Portland and hike southbound on the Pacific Crest Trail. That will get us very close, and then probably we'll walk the rest of the way on little Forest Service roads and mountain bike trails.

This blog should help anyone who's trying to keep track of us during this time. If the gears are spinning correctly, the map should update our current location every now and then. Please drop by if you're in the area!

Today we've made it to Portland and paid a visit to the famous Powell's City of Books. Thanks to the Pacific Crest Trail Association and a hardworking hiker/mapper known as Halfmile, we've got a pretty good pile of trail data to keep us alive and on course for the coming weeks. Even so, I hoped to get a glance at Yogi's PCT Handbook, which was unfortunately not available by mail for our launch date. No dice, but they do have a very good selection of hiking books and maps. For those navigating Powell's looking for local hiking info: Some books are in the "Outdoors" aisle of the "Sports" section (Rose Room 651), some are in the "Pacific Northwest" section (Purple Room 702), and a few books plus all the maps are in the "Travel" section (Red Room 801 and the vicinity.) The map selection is pretty good; they have hiking maps from National Geographic, Geo-Graphics, Green Trails, and a few others.