After getting back to the car from backpacking, I found myself with a bit of free time. It was still early in the day, and I had brought my cross country skis along for the ride… it’d be a shame to have stuffed them into the car, and to not use them at all. And hey – I also had some instant coffee that I hadn’t drank, so…
I decided that it was time for a short little trek to have some coffee.
I didn’t go far – seriously, I only skied for maybe 30min, max, until I came to the first of the river crossings before the steep section of the trail. The goal wasn’t to go far, but was instead just to find a nice quiet area… and interestingly enough, I saw a whole crew of snowboarders leaving a little picnic spot just as I was arriving.
Not one to question fortune, I made my way over to where they had been, unrolled by sleeping pad (to keep me from melting into the snow), and fired up the stove to make a quick cup of coffee.
It was… lovely.
No strong emotions, truth be told, just the calm serenity that comes from sitting by a stream, listening to the water as the snow around you muffles all other sound. The quiet hiss of the campstove, the sun shifting through the trees… it was lovely, and an excellent rest stop before starting the drive home.
I’d planned on hiking up to Elk Meadows again… since at this point Elk is basically my go-to locale whenever I don’t really know where to go.
I love that, by the way. I really enjoy having a “spot”, somewhere that I know I can just escape to, that doesn’t involve significant planning or thought. It’s just… “hey, I want to get out of town. How about I just go to the place, and do the thing? I can pack the stuff that I always pack!”
Anyways I didn’t go to Elk Meadows.
Since it’s winter, the main trailhead for Elk Meadows is a bit… snow covered. And by “a bit”, I mean that there’s roughly 6-8 ft of snow filling the little turnout that I’d normally go to. The last few times I hiked Elk, I parked at the Nordic Center for Mt. Hood Meadows, but that was just a single day… so to be paranoid, I’d called ahead to confirm that I could park overnight, and learned that overnight parking was absolutely not allowed.
I needed a new plan.
Thankfully, one of the Nordic Center folks who I spoke to recommended hiking the White River – I’d always just assumed that it was a small snow-park used for day sledding, but looking into it there was a nice trail that would connect me to the timberline trail… which would be perfect for the small outing that I was aiming for. I’d already had all the basics packed, so I was on the road as soon as the car was packed.
The ride out was pretty simple, and involved picking up a bagel sandwich for brunch… which turned out to be way more of a pastry than a sandwich, but… I’m not going to complain right before backpacking.
The hike in was beautiful – the parking lot was more full than I’d have seen at Elk, but the crowds were purely focused on sledding, and stayed within maybe a quarter mile of the parking lot. I didn’t see anyone after half a mile in, and was able to enjoy the cold and the quiet just as well as if I’d been heading toward my original destination.
By the time I was ready to set up camp I’d passed my intended turnout point, and instead found a perfect little campsite that had been set up by someone else sometime recently – a little flat spot partway up a steep hill in the trees, with a small area for cooking and a tent spot just the right size for my little shelter. I set up, hiked around a little bit, made dinner, and stared up at the sky as the sun set and the stars came out. Soon enough the air had that beautiful cutting edge to it, and so I curled into my sleeping bag and tucked myself in for some reading before drifting off to sleep.
The morning came bright and clear, with my Grey Jay friends (or family members of my friends) joining me for a light breakfast as I watched the sun light up the mountain.
People had started coming by pretty early in the morning, but even at the densest crowds, there were very few people this high up on the river – I think the most people I saw was a ski rescue group practicing avalanche testing… maybe 12 people or so?
I had a nice breakfast, relaxed, packed up, and then set off for what I’d planned on being a quick little walk up the glacier before heading back down.
Instead, I kept going as high as the snow would take me – extremely cautiously, though. Strangely, my concern wasn’t anything to do with crowds or avalanche or anything, but was instead the light. Not something you think about often in the winter, but with the bright sun and clean snow, the glare was intense. Really intense, intense enough that I was quite worried about sunburn or hurting my unshielded eyes.
Thankfully, some light clouds rolled in right before I was about to turn around, and the shade was enough that I was confident that continuing onward wouldn’t be any major risk. I mean, I was pretty sure I’d come out of it with a tan or light sunburn, but the bigger worry was my eyes, and since I kept checking in with myself every 10min or so, I felt pretty happy about forging upward.
It was worth it.
The views kept getting better as better as I ascended higher and higher – Realistically, I don’t think I got any higher than 5,000ft elevation, but the views were unparalleled as I looked North to the summit, and South to the rest of the cascade range. The sun shining through the fishscale clouds…
<muah>. Perfect.
I met a few folks on the walk, but aside from the views there’s not really much to talk about. It was beautiful, I loved not carrying a pack (since I’d left it back at camp), and I felt amazing. You know how you can smell the cold, and how snow gives that crisp taste to the air? Well, this had that in abundance, and I loved every second of it.
After I got back to my gear, I hefted the pack and started back toward the car.
The crowds thickened as I got closer and closer to the parking lot, to the point that I masked up after a little bit, as people were becoming unavoidable. There were families sledding, grills set up, and just this massive sense of happiness and excitement from the yells of people sliding down the snow.
I saw a few back country skiers too, some having descended from where I was, and some from as far away as the Timberline Lodge. I was definitely a bit jealous, I admit, but I still loved the chance to be hiking on the snow.
This will probably be be my last hike of 2020… Not that that’s a good, a bad, or any other type of thing… it’s just a thing, right? An interesting observation, for better or worse.
2020’s been an interesting year, to say the least, and I’m starting to write up some sort of overview post to go over what happened… but for now, I went on a hike to keep my mind occupied.
Instead of hitting up my go-to hike of the year, I went with a shorter, closer, and a bit more heavily trafficked hike – Mirror Lake, one of the first hikes by Hood that you run into on the drive from Portland (or Wilsonville, in my case. The parking lot was… pretty much exactly what I expected it to be, which is to say a madhouse, but thankfully it wasn’t as bad as my paranoia had convinced me it would be. There were still spots to park, at least, so… small victories, right?
With small victories come small hurdles though, and this hurdle was simply called “a lot of ice”. The parking lot, while not completely full of cars, was absolutely coated in a nice slick of ice… far slicker than the Mustang could navigate safely. I mean, I could absolutely have driven through it… but as I drove power to the wheels they’d started slewing to the side… which was enough of a risk of bumping someone that I held off on trying to out-drive the ice.
Instead, I put the chains of for literally the last 5ft of the drive… just enough to safely park without the car slipping or yawing into one of the cars on either side of me. Seems silly… but I’ll take the 5min to put on chains, over the 30min to trade insurance information any day.
With the car safely parked, I clipped on the crampons and headed into the beautiful winter wonderland that I’ve come to expect from Mt. Hood. This trail was far more trafficked, of course, but it was still gorgeous – tons of waterfalls, small rivers, and beautiful bridge crossings to keep me company.
There was quite a bit of foot traffic, of course, and I was quite thankful for my crampons giving me traction on the slick trail… one of the fun parts of winter hiking, when the whole trail turns to ice? Definitely thankful for the spiky bits attached to my boots.
Aside from the icy parts, the hike was beautifully relaxing and quiet… as quiet as it can be while passing people every few minutes, of course. Soon enough I was at the lake, circumnavigating along the ice, taking chances to admire the views of Hood, and have a few bites of my bars. Even relaxed and read a bit… once I found a nice little cove a bit off the beaten path, of course.
The hike wasn’t anything too crazy, but it was a nice chance to get into the snow, and away from town. I’m always thankful for the crisp air, and am already looking forward to the next chance I get to hike through the snow…
