Author Archives: perfectusvarrus

About perfectusvarrus

I am an adventurer. The thrill of adventure and exploration keeps me strong; through rock climbing, backpacking, cycling, exploring, and trying new things, I love the rush of adventure.

A big backpacking trip – Ice Lake and The Matterhorn, in the Eagle Cap wilderness!

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Tuesday through Friday, 25 to 28-Aug-2020

 

I took some vacation earlier this year, but it wasn’t quite as relaxing or refreshing as I’d hoped that it would be.  On top of that, I can’t carry my vacation time over into next year… and it’s already August.

So I took some time mid-week to go backpacking.

To escape from town, to get away from everything, and to focus on in getting my head back into a positive place.  It’s important to escape every once in a while, to simply be, somewhere without interruptions or distractions.  I’m reminded of a popular quote that, as is common with quotes, isn’t quite portrayed completely…

“The mountains are calling & I must go & I will work on while I can, studying incessantly”.

– John Muir

Normally, the quote is shortened to just “The mountains are calling and I must go” – which definitely gets most of the idea, but I do enjoy the little extra regarding working and studying… I took this change to be by myself, surrounded by soaring peaks, to reflect, study, and do a little work on myself.  Maybe not as impressive as John Muir preserving Yosemite, but hey.  We all do what we can, right?

Ohh, as an interesting side note?  I think this is the highest peak I’ve ever summitted!  Yay me!

 

Here’s the vital statistics:

Hike to Ice Lake:

Somewhere between 7 and 9 miles, each way (every guidebook differs a bit), roughly 17 miles round trip

3,350ft elevation gain

High Point 7,900ft

Ice Lake to Matterhorn Summit:

3.6 miles round trip

1,980ft elevation gain

High Point 9,826ft

 

Here’s the itinerary, and actual milage / elevation gain (per my fitbit):

  • Tuesday – Rest, go slow, and arrive at the trailhead around 5:00pm.  Hike in a mile or three and camp off trail.
    3.2 miles, 650 ft gain
  • Wednesday – Hike in the rest of the way to Ice Lake, rest.
    10.81 miles, 2600 ft gain
  • Thursday – Summit The Matterhorn, rest
    8.55 miles, 2140 ft gain
  • Friday – Hike out, drive home.
    10.73 miles, 250 ft gain

 

So… how was the trip, you may ask?

It was excellent.

Perfect.

Ideal.

I don’t have strong enough words to describe how much I enjoyed this trip.

 

The trail to Ice Lake was beautiful – exceptionally well graded, to the point that I didn’t really notice the elevation gain at all.  The trail to the Matterhorn was steep and hellish… but well marked, and still quite pleasant with views the whole way up.  The lake itself was pristine, and had barely any other people there – which was amazing, since everyone warned me that it’d be slammed, even during the week.  But nope – I don’t think I was forced to speak to anyone once while camping.  On the trails, maybe… but nothing lasting more than 30s.  Nice and peaceful, and it gave me a solid amount of time to just relax, and be alone with my own thoughts.

It’s been so long since I’ve been able to truly let my mind wander, you know?  Long drives work pretty well, but there’s still the destination that I’m always thinking about with some portion of my attention.  On a solo backpacking trip, though?  I don’t really think much about the destination, because it’s usually so far away… and I don’t really have to plan for anything.

Backpacking’s amazing like that – I’ve gotten good enough at the logistics of setting up camp, etc… that I don’t really have to think about it much.  It’s sort of like rock climbing, in that I can pretty easily get into a glorious zen-state of clear-headedness.  I love it.  Walking, letting my brain go wherever it happens to go at the time, without having to worry about what I’ll be doing next.

I know what I’m doing next – it’s walking.  One foot in front of the other, repeatedly, until I get to a spot that I want to stop.

So I walked, and thought, and walked some more.

I stopped to rest when I was tired, and had snacks when I was hungry.  Took a sip from my camelback when I was thirsty, and took pictures when something caught my eye.

 

Before I knew it, I was at Ice Lake.

Now, I say that I enjoyed the solitude, but that doesn’t mean that I didn’t interact with people.  As I passed folks coming out, I exchanged a sentence or two with them, getting little bits of info about the next stages of my adventure.

By the time I got to Ice Lake, I knew that I should take the left fork to find the best campsites, and that I’d follow the right fork the next day to summit the Matterhorn.  I had a map saved to my phone, so I would have been able to find these out on my own anyways… but why not get first-hand recon information, if people are willing to share?  Right?

(Ed Note: To wax poetic for a moment, asking questions is important.  Ben tries to get direct info from people as often as possible, instead of just looking it up online.  While it might not be the quickest option, it does usually give more interesting data, along with unexpected extras that wouldn’t come from a focused google search)

I turned left, and pretty quickly found an ideal campsite – fairly secluded from anyone else, right on the shore of the lake, good views…  Yeah.  I’m glad that the folks beforehand gave me the tip to go left.

 

Once camp was set up… I hadn’t really expected to make the lake so early in the day, honestly.  Like I mentioned, the trail was gloriously steady, and I had made really good time… which meant that I had a few hours to kill before sunset or dinner.  So I kept the theme of the day, and walked around a bit more – around the lake, up to the Matterhorn trail, and just let my feet wander as much as my mind was wandering.

Dinner was lovely, as lovely as mountain-house can be, the stars and lake were gorgeous, and I slept like a log.

 

Thursday was my summit day, but that didn’t mean I got going early.  The Matterhorn trail isn’t particularly long, but it is intense… so I wanted to be fully rested and energetic before I attempted anything.  Which is my reason for just laying in my sleeping bag, reading, and randomly making happy stretching noises.

I mean, I still was mobile by 9:30 I think, so… not that lazy of a morning all things considered.  But still, it’s a vacation and I made sure to treat it as such.

The hike up to the summit was beautiful, but definitely a lot steeper than the trail the day before.  A lot less obvious as well… I didn’t ever really lose the trail, but there were a fair number of times that I had to stop and assess the terrain for a little while, to figure out exactly where I wanted to go next.  Again, not bad… but also not boringly obvious.

I saw evidence of mountain goats a few times (wool, poop, tracks), and a team coming down asked me if I’d seen any coming up.  I hadn’t, but it was definitely a nice change of pace from the normal hikes I’ve been on – getting deeper into nature definitely means getting closer to animals, which is always a fun aspect to backpacking.  Especially here – The Eagle Cap Wilderness is home to lots of critters, from squirrels to bears, so I’d been acutely aware of how I was storing food the entire time.

The summit itself was gloriously empty – I was the only one there, and I took the chance to really enjoy it by setting up a nice sunshade, and reading a few chapters in the book I’d brought along.  I even flew a kite!

Really, there’s not much to say here.  I enjoyed the quiet, the wind, and the views.  The solitude was excellent, and the sense of accomplishment was appreciated.  It’s hiking, and it’s great.

 

On the way down, I finally saw those mountain goats that people had been mentioning – a “herd” of five or six goats, with a few kids in the mix.  They were super cute, but stayed pretty well away from me, and from any of the major cliff faces that I was walking beside.  It was lunch time for them, I guess, since they were hanging out pretty exclusively around the flowers and fresh growth lower down on the trail.

The rest of the day was relaxed – I was definitely starting to feel the miles, and had absolutely started feeling the elevation while I was relaxing on the peak – 9,826ft is pretty high up there, and while wearing a mask has definitely helped me acclimatize, it can only go so far.  So instead of hiking too much more, I just rested.  I read, had two dinners (I’d packed an extra for this exact reason) and enjoyed the sunset.

 

Friday dawned a bit earlier than Thursday, since I had far more miles to cover – roughly 362miles, between the hike out and the drive home.

I’d been debating staying an extra evening somewhere nearby, and had the supplies to do so stashed away in the trunk of the car… but I didn’t quite feel the energy for it.  I felt good – I’d accomplished what I wanted, and didn’t really feel the need to continue the solitude and self-reflection.  I needed to jump back into the world for a bit, and let my thoughts come back to the insanity of the day-to-day.

Poetic, right?  That’s what happens when you’re alone too long, kids.  Be careful.  You might catch the philosophy.

I had a quick cold breakfast, tried Sardines for the first time, packed up camp and said goodbye to my little tent site.  I hefted my pack, took a few final pictures and started onto the long trail back to the car.

Quick note – Sardines are really salty.  At least the kind I tried.  Too salty to really taste anything.

The hike back, as most hikes back are, was quick and pleasant.  Downhill is always faster and easier, and a lighter pack is always appreciated.  What I did notice was the sheer number of people heading into the wilderness – While I had only seen a few other people at Ice Lake, I saw a solid 25+ people heading in as I was heading out.  It definitely make me thankful for my ability to take time off from work, and for the privilege of taking a mid-week backpacking trip.  It would have been a hugely different experience had I gone on the weekend, I’m sure.

I walked, I thought, I admired the views from a different angle, and I enjoyed the last few hours in the wilderness.  It was excellent.

 

The drive home was pretty simple, if quite long.

I had a nice plate of nachos in Joseph (the town closest to the trailhead) before the drive, and picked up a coffee on the way.  I’d changed clothes as well – so I was comfortable, and didn’t have anything to distract me from the cruising ride back into Wilsonville.  It was lovely and quiet, a good chance to listen to music, and appreciate the dust-infused sunset over the gorge.

Climbing at Ozone, taking the sharp end, and cleaning routes!

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Sunday, 23-Aug-2020

 

I got to climb outside again!

I don’t really know if I’d been to Ozone before; I didn’t think that I had, but after doing a few routes here… I’m less sure.  I can tell you that it’s really good rock, with a good approach trail and well bolted routes.  Parking wasn’t bad, and there weren’t nearly as many people as I’d feared there would be.  I mean, it was basically a perfect day, weather-wise, so I’d been expecting a pretty packed crag.  When there were only two teams nearby… well, definitely took that as a win.

The climbing team of the day was Bri, Lizzy, and myself.  We met up mid-morning, packed up the Mustang, and headed in!

 

Driving, parking, and walking in were easy, and in short order we were racked up and started in on the routes.  The specific climbs I’ll detail below, but the first climb was when we hit our most… exciting… part of the day – a loose boulder.

When climbing, loose rocks are just part of the outdoor adventure.  We’re careful, and warn our belayers if we knock something loose.  It’s why we have helmets, after all.

One of the biggest fears of a climber, though, if knocking a big rock loose.  A rock that a helmet can’t help our belayer against.  A bit over halfway up Night Owl, I ran into that fear first-hand when an ~80lb boulder shifted under my hands.

I was on lead, above my gear, which meant that I didn’t have anything to hold onto aside from the rock itself… which had just moved, so… not a great thing to hold onto.  Thankfully it was an easy route, and I was on fairly solid footing, so I was able to quickly re-adjust, and find some safer rock to hold onto.  I was also, more importantly, able to catch the rock on my hip, keeping it in place for the time being.

First up was warning everyone, obviously – telling my belayer and the climbers nearby to vacate the fall zone, and to keep a steady eye on the area that the rock would fall from.  Then, once I found a better handhold, I wedged the rock back into its place as best I could, and continued up the route.  On the way down, I lashed the rock in place with some slings and trad gear – another advantage of climbing Trad, I guess?

 

Once the rock was secure, our plan was to climb, and then re-assess the danger when we took the route down – the rock was safe and secure, and no one was going to be climbing on top of it going forward.

Once we’d all climbed the routes from that anchor though… that was when the adventure began.  I laced up my hiking boots and headed up on top-rope, assessing the size and fall line more directly this time.  We enlisted the climbers next to us to help keep everything clear – they blocked off one side of the trail, and we blocked off the other, making sure that no unexpected teams would wander into the fall area.

With the area safe and secure, my original plan was to lower the rock down with me, so that it wouldn’t kinetically crash down unpredictably.  Once I got to the rock though, it was quickly clear that it was far too heavy for me to safely maneuver on my own… and that ironically the safest option would be to let gravity do the work, and to let the rock fall naturally.

So I disconnected it from the safety gear, and used the webbing already on it to slowly leverage it out.

Honestly, it was terrifying.

But, in the end, it fell safely… if loudly.  Definitely a scary adventure, but I’m really glad that we were able to clear it ourselves, instead of having to leave it as a possible danger.  I did sacrifice some webbing to the rock, since I can’t re-use the webbing that fell with it, but it’s not a bad price to pay… and now I have an excuse to go to the climbing store again!

 

Routes:

Night Owl – 5.6 Trad, Lead – This one was fun, if a bit dirty.  Hasn’t been climbed too often it seems, which led to the previously-mentioned “fun” of removing the huge loose boulder.  Still, worth climbing if you’re around and are careful.

Why Must I Cry – 5.10 Top Rope – This was really fun, but definitely tough… and I may or may not have actually followed the correct route.  I’ll definitely try it again.

Rude Boy – 5.8 Top Rope – Another fun route, but still a bit dirty.  I think I crossed onto this route while doing “Why Must I Cry”.

??? (Maybe Leisure Time?) – 5.9/10 Top Rope – This route isn’t in any of the guides, but Bri and Lizzy lead it on sport… it was definitely a stiff 5.9, if not a low 5.10, and I was very happy to be seconding it.

Helm’s Deep – 5.9 Top Rope – Similar to the previous one, but has the fun of starting off a huge pillar… so there’s a sort of moat around it!  Much easier than the unknown, but I’d still happily call it a 5.9.

 

A good trip, in every sense 🙂

Seeing the North Rim of St. Helens – Hiking the boundary trail to Coldwater Peak

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Saturday, 15-Aug-2020

 

This has been a strange year.

Yep.  Profound, that one, isn’t it?  Super unique, no one else has said that about 2020, I’ll bet.

 

While it’s not the most creative statement, it’s still really true for me – I’ve finally started stretching my legs and exploring Oregon again, seeing my home through new lenses, in a new light, and from new vantage points.  I’d run out of ideas for nearby hikes, but thankfully Laurel had a suggestion for us – The Northern side of Mt. St. Helens, hiking out to Coldwater peak…

 

Vital Statistics:

Length – 11.9 miles

Starting elevation – 4,180ft

Elevation gain – 2,785ft

Trail type – out and back

 

It was a bit longer than I’d normally do on my own, but we decided to go for it anyways – The weather in Portland was slated to be extremely hot (above 100 degrees), so any escape from the city would be preferable to staying in town.  We figured that 4,100ft would be enough to bring out some cooler weather to complement the excellent views of St. Helens that we’d be sure to find.

Well, we did find the views.

The heat… we also found that.

Turns out, 4,100ft isn’t actually that high.  Sure, it was cooler… but “cooler” is relative.  When we parked and put the top up on the car, it was solidly into the high 80s.  And on a trail with no shade, as the sun was rising… well, we definitely made it convincingly into the 90s while on the hike.

 

It was worth every second of it, though.  Even the ending part, where I was slowly melting into my boots, and Laurel was nearly dragging me back to the car.  I mean, it wasn’t really that bad, but I was definitely pretty tired and quite toasted by the time we made it back to the car.  The top stayed up for the drive home, if that wasn’t obvious.  Easier to crank the air conditioner.

The hike itself?  It was beautiful!  Excellent views of the North side of St. Helens, beautiful lakes, and a generally pleasant trail the entire way.  Not much shade, of course… but that’s what happens when a massive volcanic eruption decimates the entire landscape.

For those not in the know – The North side of St. Helens is where the majority of the eruption damage occurred.  The exact chain of events (as I learned) was that an earthquake triggered a massive landslide, exposing the core of the volcano, which then erupted into a series of pyroclastic flows.  Where we were hiking was the boundary of the closed-off zone, which is protected for study of wildlife renewal after cataclysmic events.  It’s really cool, and quite humbling to see just how extensive the damage was… and how well the landscape is healing itself.

 

Anyways, that’s a bit of a meandering way of saying that the hiking was beautiful, the company was great, and views were excellent, and the geologic factoids were very interesting.  There was even a cool natural arch, with some fun bouldering lines on it!  Ironically, better rock climbing than we’d found the previous weekend out at Larch Mountain… but let’s stick with the positive, hmm?  The rock quality was great, there was some shade, a good breeze… man, it was good times.

Still meandering… I think that’s about it.  The drive from Portland wasn’t bad, we had good music, and even stopped to get enchiladas and a marionberry shake on the way home.  Good times indeed!