Monthly Archives: May 2021

Gardening in an apartment – Spring, 2021


Spring, 2021
Specifically, 19-Apr-2021

I enjoy gardening, and digging in the dirt.

I mean, think back on when kids are young… what kid doesn’t enjoy digging around in the dirt, not worrying about getting soil under their fingernails, and just having fun?

No reason to stop now that I’m an adult… right? Doubly-so, since cleaning up afterward just involves a quick shower, instead of (probably) a whole screaming fit, followed by a dunk in the bath?

I don’t have much space to dig around in the dirt at my current apartment… which, frustratingly, makes me want to garden and dig even more. I did quite a bit of gardening back in Portland, but it was usually subsumed by the work Sarah was doing, since she did a lot more flowers and garden arranging… my planting has always been quite utilitarian – I like peas, and sometimes tomatoes, with a few flowers thrown in for variance. I’m not great at designing and organizing a whole garden layout.

But you know what? That works perfectly for someone in an apartment, with a small balcony and a few pots for my plants.

There’s a small garden shop that I pass every day going to and from work – I stopped in for the first time, without much of a plan aside from “get the growing things”. I came out with a dozen little pea plants, some tomatoes, and an Azalea bush – a small one though, so don’t worry about me too much. I got a few planters, some soil, and… that’s really all I need, right? Probably?

That evening, I took a cool-down after dinner to garden again. I sat out on my balcony, under the nice incandescent lamps, and got my hands dirty. Soil and fertilizer strewn around me, big watering cans to water in the newly transplanted seedlings… I’m feeling good about this. I don’t know how well they’ll do – they get pretty good East-facing sun, but who knows how that’ll go – but in the mean time… I’m happy. I’m glad to have some growing things on my balcony again, and I can’t wait to see how they do.

Hiking the White River Glacier in the slush


Saturday, 17-Apr-2021

After backpacking out at Twin Lakes, I wasn’t quite feeling ready to go home yet.

I’d seen Mt. Hood in the distance, both as I drove and while I was camping out, but that still left me feeling a bit of a pang of distance from the mountain. I needed to get closer, and to get further up on the snowfields… I can’t tell if I just missed the mountain, if I wanted a bit more snow adventure before the summer came along, or… if I was just feeling the restlessness of spring.

Regardless of the reason, I packed my gear into the car and set my boots right under the air vent to dry out as much as possible on the drive up to the White River sno-park.

It was a nice drive, you know? I’ve gotten to know the way pretty well in the last few months, but coming toward the park from the South was definitely a slightly different experience. Nothing hugely different, mind you, but… just enough of a change that it felt interesting.

I arrived, I parked, I slipped into my mostly-dry boots and clipped on my crampons, found a pretty painted rock (interestingly similar to the one I found at Twin Lakes…) and headed up.

It sucked.

I mean, I could talk about how beautiful it was, and how the sky was a glorious shade of bright blue. I could talk about how the White River had carved a beautiful slash through the glacier, and how the sun was sparkling off the pristine snowfields in the distance.

But truth be told, I wasn’t having a good time. The snow had softened up quite a bit as the Sun had traversed the sky, and every step was a struggle. No one beside me had been up this way, it seemed, so I was breaking trail with every step.

I really wished that I’d brought along my cross country skis… But you know. If wishes were fishes, and all that jazz.

I forged onward and upward.

Up to the foot of the glacier, where the sun sparkled against the outline of Mt. Hood.

And there, I saw “screw it, the snow stinks and I’ve been up there before. I want dinner” and turned around, and went home.

Sometimes, that’s the best course of action… and even then, it brings beautiful views and great pictures.

Backpacking the Twin Lakes of Mount Hood


Friday and Saturday, 16 & 17-Apr-2021

This was an interesting adventure.

It’s been a while since I’ve gotten to go backpacking… not quite sure why, but this weekend just felt right, you know? It felt like it was time for me to get back into the wild, and to really enjoy the snow while it was still around.

Originally I’d planned on backpacking out to Mirror Lake – I’ve hiked that trail quite a few times, and I’ve always been intrigued by the small campsite right above the lake… It’s on the main trail, but off to the side just enough to be almost secluded… and nicely tamped out into a pretty solid little campsite.

But walking into work on Monday, I found a fortune cookie script on the ground. It said “Take the path less traveled, and you will be rewarded”. It’s not often that I’m given a sign from above, but… Well, the night before I’d read that Mirror Lake is one of the most popular trails in Oregon. And a fortune telling me not to take the path well traveled kind of gives a clear message, doesn’t it?

My plans pivotted.

A few coworkers had told me about Twin Lakes – I’d never heard of it before, but it was supposedly quite a nice hike. And looking into it a bit further, it also wasn’t particularly well traveled in the winter… which seemed like a rather fortuitous circumstance, considering the previously-mentioned fortune…

I changed my plans, packed my bags, and stuffed things into the car on Friday morning. Soon enough I was cruising down the highway, out of the budding spring and into the cool snowy fortress of winter…

Almost immediately after starting into the trail – after being quite happy with the near complete lack of other cars in the parking lot – I found my first good sign – a very pretty little yellow rock. Painted, and left by the trailhead.

Pretty quickly, I found my second good sign – someone had dropped a little spinner; a little plastic toy that you twirled, and it would make interesting shapes while sparkling in the sun.

The rest of the hike to the campsite went beautifully – I walked, I enjoyed the sun, and I appreciated the bright light filtering through the trees. The snow was surprisingly dirty, but not too bad to walk on… definitely just one more sign that spring has fully sprung, and that summer is just around the corner.

I’m really glad that I was able to get out and enjoy the snow again before the weather steams it all away – even with the light snow levels and strews leaves it’s gorgeous. And the smell of the snow was still beautifully in the air, following me around on the cool breezes that ruffled my shirt every once in a while.

I hiked onward and upward until I finally made Upper Twin Lake.

I’d stopped at Lower Twin for a quick snack and a reading break, of course, but my main goal of the evening was to forge upwards and get to spend as much time relaxing at my little camp as I could. I’d brought a good book, had some cocoa and extra snacks, and was aiming for a lovely relaxing time on the snow.

And with one rather frustrating exceptions, that’s exactly what happened. I rested, watched the sun set across the lake, and enjoyed the alpine glow on Mt. Hood.

What was that one exception, you ask?

Well… my fuel bottle.

Fuel is pretty important to backpacking, unsurprisingly. It’s also a pretty major risk point too though – it’s flammable, it melts plastic (and thus my nylon gear), it’s poisonous, and it’s wet. None of those things are good, especially when you’re far from the car… and I’m always extra paranoid about where I store my fuel, after reading a story about a team traversing Greenland who spilled their white gas into their food supply, and had to make the choice between starving quickly, or dying of toxic ingestion slightly less quickly.

Because of that paranoia, I always keep my fuel and my food well separated, and always store my fuel bottle on the outside of my pack.

I stand by that practice, but today it came with a new challenge – my fuel bottle had frozen shut.

Not… quite something I’d expected, and I’ll freely admit that I spent a bit of time stressing out and trying to brute-force the bottle open. Unfortunately it didn’t work, and I realized that I was more likely to hurt myself, or my tent, with my continued flailing at the stubborn bottle.

It wasn’t obvious that it was frozen… and to be honest, I don’t even know if it definitely was iced over. If it was just on too tight… well, the solution to both problems was the same, thankfully. Warm the bottle up, and let thermal energy do the work for me.

After a bit of time holding some handwarmers against the neck, and breathing onto the cap, it did finally come free… and after I breathed a nice sigh of relief, I set about heating up some dinner and enjoying the solitude of the lake and the quiet of the snow…

The next morning dawned bright and lovely, with not a single cloud in the sky and a whole flock of Grey Jay’s coming by to visit with me.

Even this far from the mountain itself, the birdies know to come find backpackers, it seems… and I made sure not to disappoint them, sharing some of my breakfast as they flittered around and visited with me. I did keep my food pouch well protected though, after that last incident where one of them tried to take a quick bird bath in my breakfast skillet…

I rested, woke up slowly, and enjoyed some coffee as I watched the sun rise over the lake.

After a bit of reading I stretched out, packed up my gear, and started the trek back to the car…

As I walked, I enjoyed the sun. It was a bit cooler today than it had been the day before… but maybe that was because it was earlier in the day? Either way, it was a nice shift in pace, and I very much appreciated the chance to experience just a bit more cool weather as I hiked out.

I stopped again at Lower Twin lake to relax some more, do some reading, and even did a little bit of yoga out on the frozen lake, a little ways from shore in the bright sunlight.

I finished sunning myself, turned back toward my pack, and fell through the ice.

A moment of panic.

Desperately clawing forward, trying to catch myself as the water rushed over my boots and through my clothes

It’s in every winter movie – falling through the ice, and getting trapped in a cold, blue landscape. Thankfully, I didn’t have anything even remotely as cinematic as that happen to me… I was close to shore, and so the water was at most two feet deep where I was.

I quickly scrambled onto firmer footing, and made my way back to my backpack.

Anyone who hikes in the winter, especially backpacking, knows what to do when you get wet – pull off the wet layers, and warm yourself up. Ideally, put on dry layers if you can, but most importantly get as much water away from your body as quickly as possible.

That was pretty easy – and since all of my gear is synthetic or wool, it was actually quite easy to wring out almost all of the water that had soaked in. My boots… well, they were a lost cause, unfortunately. But similar to my socks, they’re designed to stay warm even if they get wet… and since they were waterproof already, only a bit of water had rushed in around my ankle when my feet went under the ice.

It… wasn’t that bad, thankfully.

I rested and caught my breath for a bit, put some hand warmers onto my ankles just in case, and after fully wringing out my socks… I started back onto the trail. My footfalls a little squishier than I was planning, but… you know, all in all I wasn’t much worse for wear.

The day was still bright and early, warm and cloudless.

It was still a good day.