We have been enjoying sleeping in out here; there is no need to rouse ourselves at any particular time. The trail will be there no matter when we start off, and the mild mileage lends itself to flowing days that can just happen without too much effort. I quite like it.
There were only a few miles left to intersect with the Cold Springs Trail that would deliver us back down onto the car, and we enjoyed the cool, bug-free morning walk. The sky had started to haze up the past day or so, and we theorized that a fire or two probably broke out while we were meandering on the mountain. Layer we found out the Tunnel Fire in the Columbia Gorge had burned up 10 houses and had reached about 500 acres.
Kirk won the first-to-spot-the-cars game, and before we knew it, we were slowly making our way back down the bumpy road, eating many of the snacks we left in the car.
A short trip to a burger place in The Dalles produced one of the largest burgers we had ever seen, and Kirk did his best to eat what he could…but five days of hiking wasn’t enough to create a hunger that can polish off a burger as big as your head.
Then the drive home….since we got home on a hot afternoon, there was time for a river float with my dear friend Carrie… a highly recommended way to finish a trip!
Brrrrr, I was borderline warm enough at 7,000′ last night in my 40-degree quilt. At least the cold sent the mosquitos to bed… When I woke up, I was able to spend at least part of the morning away from my netting and spray.
Kirk and I took our coffee up the mountain a short way and absorbed the layers of mountains on mountains the stretched as far as the eye could see.
Our goal today would be to turn around and hike back towards the start….out and backs aren’t usually my thing, but when traversing around a mountain, the change in direction does bring different aspects to light.
We hiked the hike, passing just one hiker going north who looked suspiciously fast and lean….a PCT thru-hiker trying their luck on this northern section? The unprecedented levels of snow in the Sierra mountains this year have thru-hikers scrambling to find suitable sections to hike. July seems doable up here right now….
This trip has been particularly helpful in letting some new ideas percolate (ideas for the new business that is….). One outcome from the hiker survey that I launched in March were the very high numbers of long-distance backpackers who want to learn about, and be engaged in, environmental and conservation issues that affect the trails they hike. I had been primarily focused on infusing that information within the trail materials by working with the trail organizations, but now I see other opportunities to work directly with hikers….thus some of my expanded services I announced recently. But I have other ideas too. Oh yes! On this hike, I kept working at one particular idea that has been floating around for about six months now. I would pick it up, think on it a bit, put it away, pick it up again, modify it a little, and little by little, I think I have a really great concept. Walking helps me work these ideas out. Walking is the best.
The incessant bity bugs made stopping for breaks unpleasant, so we kept going, taking small respites in windy spots when we could. We did notice, though, that when we got closer to the south side of the mountain (and an old burn) that the mosquitos lessened. Perhaps there were fewer pockets of trees for them to hide out in?? The wind had less resistance in the burn and could blow them all to the northwest side of the mountain? We weren’t complaining! Whatever the magic that kept them away was most welcome.
Too buggy to stop for lunch, so pocket lunch!
We both got stumbly towards late afternoon and settled in a creek-adjacent campsite just a few miles from the trailhead. All of our good food was gone, and we regretted the last-minute decision a few days ago to leave extra snacks in the car. They wouldn’t have been extra after all. We would have eaten them all!
We played cards and closed our eyes early. It’s nice to have sounds of rushing water tonight.
We weren’t blasted by sand and grit during the night, and the clear skies throughout the night and morning promised a brilliant day.
From our perch above Crystal Lake we had a magnificent sunrise…even though we were camping on the western slopes of this mountain, the light found us early and warmed up the mosquitos faster than we would have liked.
The order of the day? Walk. Not too far, not too close, we wanted to walk just the right amount so we could backtrack tomorrow and cover most of the miles back to the trailhead and have a quick up and out on our last day. So, we set our sights on a place called high camp on the northern folds of Adams and set off through the mosquito haze.
Oh PCT, you are my muse. Could there be a more perfect trail? Of course there can be, but this one has just got it all. Today: views, views, and more views. We were inching closer to Mt. Rainier – that hulk of snow and ice had its own trail around the mountain…Kirk and I hiked that one the first year we started dating…the Wonderland Trail is extremely spectacular, but this Adams hike has got me all awestruck because of its even keel…the well graded trail is just so dreamy. We don’t have to work as hard as we did on the Wonderland.
Anyway, we stop for a short break on a lava flow, hoping a breeze will keep the monsters at bay, and it kind of works. But the best bet is to stay covered up and not give them a chance at skin.
Soon, we are at the side trail to go up, but this is no forgotten side trail like the one to Crystal Lake; this one had a lot of footprints. This one was well loved.
And it went up! We climbed and climbed to top out on a broad flat with trails criss-crossing the deep green alpine vegetation. This area had just started blooming where the snow recently receded and the sun just warmed. We crossed snow filled ravines and found the perfect perch right below the crumbling glaciers of the mountain above and to the side: Mt. Saint Helens features prominently on the horizon….the view was all mountains, every direction.
It was early, so we spent time reading, napping, exploring, playing cards, and just looking at the endless views.
The beasts have woken. They haven’t gotten insanely bloodthirsty yet, but with each hot summer minute, more and more mosquitos hatch and hone in.
We picked an extremely scenic yet windy spot for our tent last night. Once the sun went down, the winds picked up and started splashing up a fine volcanic sand into the air. We were already dozing by this time, and the increasingly gritty air roused Kirk. He got up to put the fly on the tent, but everything was already covered in sand. In the morning, piles of sand were in every little crevice, even our eyes.
First creek of the day: fash wash.
The trail around Mt Adams is blissfully graded. Even though we hadn’t met up with the PCT yet (we would get there about mid-day), the trail followed the contour lines of elevation most delightfully. The walking was wonderful. Of course, this was early season, so numerous blow-downs created tree gauntlets.
But now: the aches. My hip still hurt. But it was more like a dull ache today. I must have pulled a muscle climbing over one of the first fallen trees. It wasn’t debilitating, but I slowed my roll anyway. Oh, my hips!
The snow drifts increased in number and size as we worked our way to the western side of the mountain. Kirk put on his gortex socks, and I put on my chacos. We had two different strategies for dealing with the slushy snow.
PCT!!
The trail’s character didn’t change much when we reached the PCT; we were half expecting a wide superhighway of a trail, but it stayed 12″ and moderate. We did see many more footprints, though, and one woman with a tiny dog on a tiny leash.
Our goal was a high alpine lake. One map I had showed a trail to Crystal Lake, the other one didn’t. Then we missed the trail junction…the sign could have been under snow…but we found our way up, and faint traces of a trail disappeared under snow drifts and trees that had shattered in 200 pieces when they hit the ground.
Ironically, we started to see footprints, and when getting to the little aquamarine blue lake, met the two other backpackers (there have been very few people up here). There was room for all, so we hiked up past the lake to find the perfect nook with a view. This spot had trees for hammock time and enough shelter from the wind that we expect to be sand-in-the-face-free in the morning.
Except the lack of wind meant the beasts were out. And they were thirsty.
This isn’t a thru-hike of Mt. Adams. This is a dabbling around Mt. Adams. A meandering, a wandering.
Sure, we could hike all the way around (it’s about 40 miles and requires a short cross-country talus/scrambly section through part of the Yakima Reservation (advanced permit and permission needed), but we don’t want to go that far.
Sure, we could climb the mountain, but I have done that before, and I’m not a mountain climber (I don’t really get excited by getting to the top of things), so instead Kirk and I are going to hike out and back, touch part of the PCT on the west side, and just enjoy our Mt. Adams dabbling.
I was stoked to get Kirk on a trail, too. We definitely trend more heavily to the water in the summer. Sweating up the side of a mountain can be a little brutal on an 80 degree day, but my vague recollections of a stunning cruisy trail in an alpine wonderland when I hiked the PCT in 2006 was quite appealing.
We left Bend early afternoon and fought our way through the growing throngs of vacationers and their RVs and boats tied precariously to the tops of their Subarus. It would be faster for us to drive up to Washington and the side of Mt. Adams than some of the other destinations in Oregon we had been thinking about. I forget about Washington sometimes!
The last hour of driving up to the Cold Springs Trailhead where our hike would start was a progressive nail biter. The road got increasingly rutted and narrow the higher we climbed in my little Honda Fit (oh please little car, please make it!) When big dipping swales across the road started popping up (to divert water), I scraped bottom a few times and crossed my fingers. Just as I was getting real nervous about the drive, we were there. Cars and trucks filled in the little parking spaces between small stands of trees and open burn area.
We found a spot just big enough for our little car (note: we weren’t the smallest car up here!) and started packing up.
There was little planning for this trip, so a rushed trip to the grocery store on the way up provided our 4-day food provisions. We repackaged and shuffled things in and out of stuff sacks before we were ready to go.
Then, hiking.
We walked through the old burn…it continued in and out of view as we worked our way up 1000ish feet to the Round the Mountain Trail.
Immediately, my right hip started hurting. Like a real hurt.
This was baffling: it hadn’t been bothering me at all before I started walking today. This felt odd and different. It felt like an injury, but there was no injury. Did I sit weird on the drive up? I guess I’m of an age where things like this can happen without warning. One minute, you are fine and going to multiple yoga classes a week. The next, you are limping up the side of a mountain.
We walked and I tried not to think about it. Today was just about getting a few miles up, so we soon found camp a few hundred feet above the trail, and I broke out the feast.
The evening put on a good show, and we watched the sinking sun in a bug-free bliss, happy, full, and living large.
I had a wonderful conversation with Zach and Juliana with Backpacker Radio in early June…we talked about lots of fun things (of course all trail related)…
You can listen here:
Or watch here:
If you haven’t heard my first conversation with Backpacker Radio, check it out here.
Imagine this sunrise. Close your eyes and soak in the warmth.
This song stats playing:
You are grateful. For this moment, for the light, for the music, and for the overwhelming desire to share this feeling with as many people as possible.
My friend and fellow creative Shelby Little invited me on a hike to talk trail this spring, and just published this glowing (I’m blushing over here) profile.
I could do the same for this witty and entrepreneurial woman who started her own business a few years ago, Yarrow Creative Agency. I picked her brain more than once when planning for my own launch, and it was Shelby who helped inspire and encourage me to make a career path where no one had thought to before.
I met Renee Patrick in the winter of 2015, shortly before she began a 160-day, solo hike of the Continental Divide Trail. We were bundled up, outside at a mutual friends’ house, where Renee was demonstrating the gear she and her partner, Kirk, had made for her backpacking trip.
I watched as she raised a dark umbrella with a mosquito-netting cloak. She stood under it, joyfully exhibiting the usual rain and sun protection and—as the small crowd oohed and aahed—how the mosquito net had an elastic waistband to keep bugs off her while she hiked or slept. Renee flashed her characteristically toothy grin and I got the distinct impression I was meeting the Mary Poppins of American Trails. But as Renee showcased more of her and Kirk’s creations—a beer-can stove, a trail wallet, alpine skis with modified bindings for hiking boots—I thought, no this is more of a James Bond scenario. What I didn’t know then, is that Renee Patrick is an original, a prototype, as made evident by her lifestyle choices and her accomplishments on the trail.
I’ve been involved with the Oregon Trails Coalition, a cooperative body of broad-based, statewide trail interests dedicated to supporting, promoting, and advocating for the preservation, development, and stewardship of trails in Oregon, since the group started about five years ago. This year I joined the steering committee as the incoming chair, and look forward to adding to the great work that has already been done to elevate and steward our long trails!
The big project the group has been working on has been to develop Oregon Signature Trails. Throughout 2022, the Oregon Trails Coalition and the Signature Trails Inventory Steering Committee engaged a broad group of stakeholders across the state in sharing their vision and priorities for existing and potential signature trails in Oregon. The resulting work was compiled into a report where 15 trails were determined to have the existing infrastructure and support or most potential and momentum at this time to provide access to iconic places and scalable, world-class trail experiences with further investment.
The great news??? Several of the trails I’ve been working on or have hiked are on that list, including:
Oregon Desert Trail (I’ve been developing the ODT since 2015, and hiked it in 2016)
Pacific Crest Trail – Oregon Section (I hiked it as part of my thru-hike in 2006)
And what that also means is that there are more trails for me to hike! 🙂 Of course some of these systems are just in the planning phase and have a long way to go, others are water trails which I definitely want to paddle, and yet others are biking-specific trails…I haven’t gotten into biking as much as hiking, but I can see a future where I do spend more time on two wheels.
There is a lot of energy and excitement about long-distance trails in Oregon, and I’m excited to be a part of the group that is elevating trail priorities for all!
Today was the day, and despite constant rain all night, the early morning hours were dry, and when I unzipped the tent, I could finally see an emerging land below.
Stunning!
It had gotten cold overnight. Nothing had frozen, but I could see fresh snow on the far peaks.
I was up and walking by 7am, which has been my usual this trip. The objective was to walk the rim, 4-5ish miles to the very top of the mountain at 4,694′ and then drop over the top for a smattering of cross country hiking and some roads all the way into Mitchell and my shower. Ok!
This type of hiking is strange. It feels like you are making no progress at all on the large flat expanse of earth, but then you look back and see how far you have come. I stopped periodically to gaze around, down, up, and everywhere. It was a brilliant morning, and I felt so lucky to be up here.
That’s where I camped last night
Sutton Mountain is a Wilderness Study Area, and you might remember a hike I took up here last year from the Black Canyon side. As I mentioned in that blog post, this is an area that is being considered as a national monument. As a place to recreate, it was ideal… several trailheads to the top, rugged, yet approachable hiking, incredible terrain, lots of wildlife, and…it’s relatively safe. What do I mean by that? Sutton Mountain is surrounded on all sides by roads or the John Day River. Certainly, one could get lost in the almost 30,000 acres, but hike in any direction long enough, and you will make it to a road. The good thing about national monuments is that the management can be fairly flexible. The county and nearby communities like Mitchell and Twickenham can be involved, conservation groups like ONDA can be involved, and ranchers and recreators can be involved too when deciding how this area should be managed. The Painted Hills across the street is already a National Monument, and so are the Fossils Beds that I hiked by when I restarted my hike at Clarno. It will be exciting to see what happens!
I hiked and hiked and finally made it to the top. I really couldn’t have planned a better morning.
Then over and down. It’s all downhill from here!
That’s the summit!
I took a break by some springs and took off my soaking wet shoes and socks. The grasses had soon soaked my feet this morning, making for an unpleasant squishy feeling. I put on my chacos for the next few miles of a closed dirt road within the Wilderness Study Area, but the recent rain combined with the soil to make a nasty slurry that quickly got between my toes and straps and was just not going to work. I transitioned back to shoes.
Soon, I was in an area I recognized! Last fall, after a trip to the Greater Hells Canyon Gala, I had stopped at Sutton Mountain and climbed up from Meyers Canyon for a night. I was disappointed, though, to see tire tracks on the road. This was a closed road, and someone had ignored the signage and deterrents and had driven up here anyway. 😖 not ok.
I continued on to cross Meyers Canyon itself, a deep dry ravine, to the other side and one last cross country climb up to another road. On this road, I walked through a trashed campsite. Large piles of trash were scattered about. I took a few photos to share with the BLM. Who does that? Why? The disrespect was sad.
Then walk, walk, walk, and I popped out near an old abandoned ranch (I later learned it was the Owens place) framed by the most stunning butte I had ever seen: Bailey Butte. The highway goes right by Bailey Butte, but I had never seen it from this angle. Incredible!
Once I made it to the highway, I had about a mile left to go, and it started raining so hard that I had to pull out my umbrella. Then…town.
I made a straight line for the Tiger Town Brewery for lunch. In the seven hours I had been walking (with one sit-down break), I had eaten one granola bar and a few almonds. This hunger was hungry.
Soon, I was devouring a ruben sandwich, curly fries, washed down by a tasty amber beer. Soooooooooo delicious. My next order of business was heading next door to the general store for snacks and to see if they had any clothing that I could wear after taking a shower. I bought a Mitchell sweatshirt and some long john bottoms. Perfect! Then to the hostel. Sure, I could have had someone meet me this afternoon, I was only two hours from home, but I love trail towns, and Mitchell looked to have everything a hiker could need or want after a hike, and I wanted the full experience!
The Spoke’n Hostel is a hot spot for bicycle tourists. In addition to being on one of the cross-country bike routes, it was on several smaller road ride routes, too. Hosts Jalet and Patrick have renovated an old church into a beautiful and relaxing spot for travelers. Now, my experience was complete!
I got that shower, had clean clothes to put on, and the rest of the day, I truly reveled in not walking.
She-ra Hikes 