Old Man on the PCT - July 2014

Last July I flew out to Oregon to backpack with my son, Jeff. I had told him that I could comfortably do about 10 miles a day, which is about half of what he normally does, but he was willing to slow down for his old dad ... or, so he said ...

     We prevailed on Jeff's wife, Amy, to haul us up to Lolo Pass on the slope of Mt Hood. Our goal was to hike to Cascade Locks via the original trail (not Eagle Creek). 
     We got to the pass about 9:00 PM, got a quick photo, told Amy to lock her doors, and headed down the trail in a thick fog. We hiked a couple of miles down the trail and found a spot among the Doug firs to hang his hammock and pitch my Hexamid twin tarp.
     The next morning we were up early and headed to Indian Springs campground, which was about 12 miles on down the trail. Twelve was going to be a tough distance for me, but because we were descending in altitude, I figured I could make it. Some time around noon we passed a sign that said Buck Peak - 1 miles. My trail description said that it was a super view and I was feeling pretty good, so, up we went ... and, gosh, was it worth it. Of course, every time we came to a place with a view, it would almost take my breath away. My son lives out there and he sees these views frequently, but I don't I'm from the south and most of the tops of mountains in the south are thick with trees, so you don't get many views.

The view from Buck Peak

Buck Peak side trail

     After that side trail and a couple of other stops we pulled into the Indian Springs (abandoned) campground. I guess the FS got tired of hauling the trash out, so they stopped keeping it up. There were about 4 or 5 picnic table and Jeff and I found one down by itself and started setting up our stuff. The campsite was not crowded by the other campsites, but it was in view of the privy. 

The setup at Indian Springs

     We went to the spring for water for our supper and found a problem. The spring flow was supposed to be dammed up by a piece of concrete with a pipe through the middle allowing people to fill their water containers much easier; however, the guy getting water just before us had put his hand on the concrete piece getting back to his feet and had dislodged the whole pipe flow. Water was flowing under the concrete and not coming out through the pipe. I tried to adjust the concrete piece, but it was too heavy for me. Jeff asked if he could mess with it and soon the water was again flowing through the pipe as intended. Several other people had come down for water and he was the hero of the hour for fixing the water source. 

The repaired spring

     Interestingly, while I was filling my GravityWorks bag at the spring, Jeff started talking to another hiker who, with some pride in his voice, said he was 60 and had hike 7 miles to get up to Indian Springs. Jeff said that that was really good, then he pointed to me and said that I was almost 70 and had hiked 14 miles to get to Indian Springs that day. Plus, Jeff added that eight months before I had had six bypasses on my heart. The gentleman didn't have much to say after that. His wife, however, who had been down to the spring before to unsuccessfully fill her water bottle, thanked Jeff for fixing the spring to flow through the pipe. I can't remember now what we had for supper, but it was really good. We had both brought fresh bread and Jeff had some good cheese, so we had plenty to fill our stomachs.
     With the aid of a couple of acetaminophens for me, we slept well that night and were up early to try to make it to the next water source somewhere further down the trail. It was July, and a lot of the easy-to-get-to water sources had dried up. We knew we would pass Wahtum Lake and could get water there; we knew we would get near a water source at the Eagle-Benson Trailhead; but we weren't sure about the water source at Teakettle Spring. Most of the literature said it was reliable, but we knew there was some doubt at this time of the year.

The man and his father

     Wahtum Lake was beautiful and we discovered that it had a lot of campsites around the lake, which generally indicated an easier access to the lake. We went to the top of the ridge above the lake and found a FS road that comes up within ½ mile of the campsites. We agreed that we would come back there sometime with the wives to camp. We almost got off the PCT at that place because there we're so many side trails and the PCT has an emblem of sorts and not white blazes like I'm used to on the AT. Anyway, eventually we got back on the main trail and headed on down the trail knowing that we'd need to stop at the north end of Benson Ridge to get some water at Smokey Spring.
     At the edge of the Benson Plateau, where a trail came up from the Eagle Creek area--known at the Eagle Benson Trail, I threw down my pack while Jeff went down to the Smokey Spring and filled the GW bag to filter our drinking water. At that trail intersection there was a log structure of sorts that looked like an old Eagle Scout project gone to disrepair. Jeff said that he was glad to find that spot because he knew that trail came up, but he wasn't sure where it connected to the PCT. We speculated that it might be a fun place to come in the winter and try to make a warm shelter out of the old log structure. Anyway, I was able to lie down and nap a bit while Jeff filled our water bottles/bags for the trip across the Benson Plateau and down the other side. Benson Plateau was interesting ... a long, relatively flat plateau with tall trees and deep grass. (I guess plateau, long, and flat are redundant, huh?)

Water at Eagle-Benson

     We knew that there was a possible water source called Teakettle Spring on the way down when we started losing elevation rapidly. When we got to TS, we decided not to waste time getting water when the spring would have been very labor intensive. It was one of those springs where the water trickled out of the side of some rocks and trickled on down the side of the hill. If we had gotten water there we would have had to scoop out a pool and wait for the mud to settle before being able to fill the filter bag ... and then, it would have taken a lot of time to fill the bag from such a small trickle. Okay, so we decided to hike on and try to find water somewhere below. I had about 3/4 liter and Jeff had about 1/2 liter ... we figured we'd be okay. Well, we figured wrong ... kinda ... we hiked and hiked and hiked and finally found a healthy stream crossing the trail. I kinda dumped my pack and sat down on the side of the trail. Stick a fork in me, I was done! I told Jeff that he was going to have to filter water, I was too tired to move. We both drank and drank and drank. I'm not sure what time it was ... maybe 9:00 PM or so ... still light, though. I told Jeff that I only had the energy to camp nearby if he could find a spot. He went down the trail about a quarter of a mile and didn't see any place that was level enough to pitch my tent. Of course, he was hanging, so he could stay almost anywhere. I checked my GPS and saw that we had done another 14-mile day. 
     Finally, I said, "Jeff, I'm staying right here." 
     He said, "What?!!" 
     I repeated, "I'm staying right here." 
     He said, "You mean, right here in the trail?" 
     I said, "Yup."

Sleeping on the PCT

     So, we threw our kits down in the trail. I thought Jeff would tie up, but he wanted to stay in the trail with me. The trail was really narrow right there: straight up on one side, and down 30 feet to a creek on the other. Jeff said he woke up several times during the night to make sure I hadn't rolled off into the creek. I'm not a toss/turner during the night, so I wasn't worried. Jeff ate bread and cheese for dinner and, after a couple of bites of bread, I took a couple of acetaminophens and crawled under my quilt. I didn't even particularly care that the big banana slugs were crawling across me all night. (Well, you know it's gonna be mice in a shelter on the AT, so it might as well be banana slugs on the PCT.) Jeff was concerned about the rumor of some pumas in the Gorge, but I knew that mountain lions like to chase after runners and antelopes, so I wasn't much worried about them trying to eat a smelly old man who was too tired to move.

Somewhere near that water is 
a cold adult beverage

     The next morning I think I had enough energy to get some Mountain House granola w/blueberries out of my food bag and I actually felt pretty good ... not great, but pretty good!

Banana slugs are interesting critters

     I think we had about 8 miles to get into Cascade Locks, most of the trail would be down hill, and knowing that I had an adult beverage waiting on me when I got there, I was feeling ready to hike. We covered most of the miles talking about how we could have done things differently. We probably should have stayed at the Benson-Eagle intersection, but it just seemed too early in the day to stop. We both still couldn't decide whether spending an hour getting water at Teakettle Spring would have made it better or worse. If we had started the day at Benson-Eagle we wouldn't have had such a long day, so getting water at TS wouldn't have been as critical. Oh, well ... we lived to hike another day ... so, whatever ...

The trail on the Benson Plateau

     When we got to Cascade Locks we went to a restaurant to eat an early lunch. As we were sitting there thinking about getting picked up by our wives, we realized that we were a day and a half too early getting to Cascade Locks, so we were going to have to chill for 36 hrs or so. We found a campground that didn't cost an arm and a leg, drank a few good beers, and talked a lot. It was the first time in years that Jeff and I had really had time to get in to some heavy conversation. It was good!

The Bridge of the Gods (modern version)

     On Thursday morning we walked pack-less across the Bridge of the Gods into Washington. I think she charged us $2 each for the round trip. For all the backpackers who haven't moved across that bridge, it doesn't have a walking lane. You just have to cram yourself against the rail when a big truck passes. When we walked up to where the PCT takes off up the mountain we passed some fresh Marionberries growing by the road. I've had Marionberry preserves but never fresh berries. They are so sweet we stood there and picked and ate for a while.

Getting near Cascade Locks

     We spent some time on the little island across the old locks and wanted to camp over there, but they didn't allow it except during the Trail Days celebration in CL. Thursday evening the women picked us up and after treating us to dinner, gave us a ride back into Portland.
     I love to hike with my son ... love to hike with my daughter-in-law and wife when I can ... but I really love the time on the trail I spent with my son. I seemed to have passed on to him my father's and his grandfather's love for the woods. My father is the one who introduced me to camping when I was very young, and I passed it on to my son when he was very young. What a great legacy! What a great trip!

Finally ... a view of the 
Columbia River to the north

Mark Hatfield Wilderness 
at Wahtum Lake

I seem to be obsessed with signs

A view from the PCT looking back toward Mt Hood

Jeff on a bald on which the trail was marked with
a series of cairns so when the snows pile up one
can stay relatively near the trail.

The old man at Wahtum Lake

The trail on Benson Plateau

Looking west down the Columbia River

DNF

Recently, I was reading an article by Paul Magnanti about "failures" he encounters by not reaching his goals on hikes or runs. The article began by recounting a DNF of the Trans Adirondack Trail. That got me thinking ...
     Admittedly, I didn't read all of the rest of the article--just scanned it--and I might have missed this thought. His premise seemed to be about "getting back on the horse after you fall off" if you've had a "failure."
     I think I can honestly say that I have never had a "failure" in backpacking or hiking. A-ha! you say, that's because you've never done anything challenging ... well, maybe that's true, or maybe it's because my goals in backpacking are different.
     The past three of four years I have completed a few 40-mile sections of the AT, a 39-mile section of the PCT, and, in a couple of weeks, I'll attack another 40-mile section of the AT. That's not really a comparison to the 275-mile Trans Adirondack Trail, you say; however, keep in mind that I'm an old man and, therefore, my goals are somewhat different.
     My goal, whether I'm hiking in the Sipsey Wilderness, on the AT, or on the PCT, is to get the best wilderness experience that I can possibly get. Sometimes I my trip doesn't live up to what I imagined it would be because it rains a lot, sometimes the chiggers or mosquitos are thick, sometimes I hike too far because I'm chasing water sources. Nevertheless, my trip is never a "failure." I'm always really glad to be in the woods. My feeling has always been in line with that old cliche, a bad day in the woods is better than the best day in the office.
   

Timberline Trail to Paradise Park in the Mt Hood Wilderness

The plan was to go to Oregon to visit our son/daughter-in-law and "do a little hiking" with them ... My wife and I gave a little effort to getting into hiking shape (after all, I had hiked a section of the AT in June), but because of work and other things (general laziness) we didn't really get in very good backpacking shape. So, when we got to  Portland, our son suggested either Cloud Cap or Paradise Park on Mt. Hood. Cloud Cap was a much easier hike, but doesn't have a water source nearby, and Paradise Park is described as "difficult" in the trail guides. Hm-mm-mm ... what to do? 

Well, because of years of hiking in the Sipsey Wilderness and throughout the southeast where there is usually a water source nearby, I have grown to hate hauling water and generally choose places with a water source nearby. Therefore, Paradise Park on the PCT/Timberline Trail was the last minute choice. I had shipped tent, stove, and other equipment out there earlier and planned to get food/supplies when we got there.

Mt Jefferson from Timberline Lodge

After the son/d-in-law got off work on Monday, we headed up to the famous Timberline Lodge on the south side of Mt. Hood. The Lodge, built by the WPA in the 30s, is a memorable zero day stop on the PCT for thru hikers. The rooms are comfortable and the four of us checked into a room with four bunk beds and a shower on the hall ... much like we would had we been thru-hikers. After dumping our gear in our room, we headed up to the Ram's Head bar for supper and a brew. We all decided to shower that night so we'd be ready to head out on the trail early the next morning. Jeff and Amy showered and went out to see the stars while my wife and I -- who live in the Central TZ -- went to sleep. I never heard my son/d-in-law come in.

Tuesday morning we dressed and went to the dining room for breakfast at 7:00. After visiting the porcelain for the last time for a few days, we put a few things in the car and headed north around the west side of Mt Hood on the PCT/Timberline. The first half mile or so of the trail crosses several of the ski slopes of Timberline, then gets serious when you get to the trail register. Although the trail goes through tall timbers, because Mt. Hood is a stratovolcano, the environment is not unlike New Mexico and parts of Arizona with sandy, arid soil and Douglas fir forests. 

Sunset from Timberline Lodge

The Timberline Trail to Paradise Park (our destination) is only about 6.5 miles, but because of a large volcanic river canyon loses and regains about 1200 feet of elevation between the trailhead and Split Rock it is rated as "difficult." The designation "difficult" means to me that my feet will hurt and I'll be puffing and panting most of the way. Most of the elevation gains and losses would be in the three-mile area of Zig Zag Canyon.

Early morning view of Mt Hood

We crossed several small gullies including "Little Zig Zag" and got to the edge of the real Zig Zag to look down at where we had to go. The Zig Zag River in the bottom of the canyon didn't look so formidable, but we were up on the edge of the canyon about 600 feet above it. We sat on the edge of the canyon and ate a power bar and drank energy drinks to get ready for the descent and ascent of the canyon. My son pointed out the trail far on the other side almost three miles away and said that if I lived I would be hiking on that trail in a couple of hours. Then we began our descent. Surprisingly, though the view from the top of the canyon was a sharp V with steep sandy and rocky sides, the trail down slabbed the side of the valley through lush moss covered fir trees. I'm not sure what kind of moss, but it reminded me somewhat of Spanish Moss on the oak trees in the South. This moss, though, was green instead of grey  and covered the trunks of the trees as well as hung from the limbs.

Trekking pole adjustment

Hiking down to the river bottom was continuous and hard on old knees, but was a fairly smooth trail and not so steep that it was difficult. I commented that parts of the AT--like coming down off of the north side of Blood Mountain--was much more difficult to hike and required the use of trekking poles or a hiking stick for balance because of the very uneven, rocky trail. It was obvious that trail crews maintain this well-used trail because of the drainage cuts at intervals to keep the steep landscape from washing out after the snows melt. Coming back up the south side of Zig Zag Canyon when we were heading out, we encountered a volunteer trail crew working on a particularly wet section of the trail. They were building some drain trenches across the trail that could be stepped across rather than a 10 yd section of the trail being mud that had to be tromped through. They were working hard and the trail was a mess when we passed by, but, when finished, would repair the trail section similar to the many other step-across trenches carrying water across the trail. 

Jeff and Amy

There were small water sources all along the trail which would be sufficient for thirsty hikers. I guess I was surprised at this, since the area as a whole seemed dusty and dry; but, of course, I'm not that familiar with the volcanic mountain areas in the northwest, so I just didn't know what to expect.

At the river, which was only about 10 ft wide, there were enough rocks for those of us with longer legs to jump across without having to take off our boots, but for those with shorter legs it meant getting shoes/boots wet or taking off boots/shoes and wading across. My son hikes in trail shoes, so he waded across with my wife who had taken off her boots and put on Crocs to get across. It was an opportunity to sit down for a while and eat a snack and drink some much-needed energy drink before the hike up the northern side of the canyon. Zig Zag Canyon is what makes this hike "difficult" in the trail descriptions rather than the "moderate" rating it might get if one didn't have to go down into and up and out of the canyon.

The upper end of Zig Zag Canyon and Mt Hood

Headwaters of the Zig Zag River

Hiking up the north side we came to the fork of the Timberline Trail and the PCT where the Timberline loops east up toward Mt. Hood and the PCT stays west of the summit. The trails are basically parallel after they separate and come back together at the north end of Paradise Park forming a loop that many hike in one day. After getting to the top of the canyon on the Timberline Trail, we continued north toward Paradise Park and our home for two nights. Soon we came to the site of an old shelter of which nothing was left but part of the foundation. I think it was a shelter built by the WPA or CCC in the 40s, but had gone away after many winters on the side of Mt. Hood. I think the shelter signaled the entrance in to Paradise Park ...

Our goal was to camp under the lone tree next to Split Rock, so my son/daughter-in-law hiked on ahead to make sure no one else had already claimed that spot. Split Rock is an icon in Paradise Park and we wanted to camp there at least one of our two nights. Shortly after passing the shelter foundation, we came to a small stream rushing down the mountainside. There was a wonderful camp site on a little bluff overlooking the stream. It may have been one of the most beautiful campsites I've ever encountered. There wasn't an open expanse view to the west, but the eastern view looked up the creek canyon right at the peak of Mr. Hood. My son later said the first time he passed that campsite he knew I would love it and want to stay there. We crossed the stream and passed on by that campsite because our goal was to get out on the open mountainside where the stars and sky are endless. I told my son later that if I ever came back to Paradise Park I wanted to camp in that campsite.


Not too long after passing the paradise campsite, the trail went up gradually and we began to get to the edge of the treelike at about 6,000 ft. Once the area opened up to the mountainside, the plants changed their looks. Gone were the fields of wildflowers and beargrass except along the occasional small stream flowing down from some melting snow/ice. The plants were in abundance along the streams, but away from the streams were fields of volcanic sand, boulders, and rocks. There were occasional trees and tree skeletons, but nothing to give much shade in the bright sunshine. The area was filled with some kind of bush covered with red berries and the birds were loving the berries. I saw what appeared to be deer prints in the sand and an occasional pile of scat loaded with berries. Some of the scat looked like bear scat, but I'm not knowledgeable enough to know for sure. I do know that the deer prints were ubiquitous and some fresh. They must come up out of the trees to eat and drink early in the morning. We didn't ever see the actual animals, but we saw evidence of them.

Our first view of Split Rock

My son/d-in-law met us back down the trail and said that no one had yet claimed the Split Rock campsite, so we  headed a bit uphill toward that monument. 

Mt Hood at sunset