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.
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.
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.
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.
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?)
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."
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.
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!
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 ...
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!
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.
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!
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.
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| The view from Buck Peak |
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| 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. 
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| The setup at Indian Springs |
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| The repaired spring |
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.
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| The man and his father |
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?)
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| 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."
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| Sleeping on the PCT |
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| Somewhere near that water is a cold adult beverage |
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| Banana slugs are interesting critters |
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| The trail on the Benson Plateau |
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| The Bridge of the Gods (modern version) |
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| Getting near Cascade Locks |
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!
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| Finally ... a view of the Columbia River to the north  |
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| Mark Hatfield Wilderness at Wahtum Lake |
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| I seem to be obsessed with signs |
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| A view from the PCT looking back toward Mt Hood |
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| 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. |
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| The old man at Wahtum Lake |
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| The trail on Benson Plateau |
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| Looking west down the Columbia River |
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