Dear Lord, how long has it been since I’ve slept in a tent?
Sat by a fire?
Enjoyed the cool air outside of a city?
Well, that last one I was able to get every so often by sneaking out to Howth, or Bray… but they’re still close to the city, you know? You can feel the city nearby, if not actively smell it in the air… and getting out into the woods outside of Waterford meant that we couldn’t really even see any city lights!
Now, this is Ireland, of course. And so you’re never ACTUALLY away from a town. We could still see some farmhouses in the distance, and there were some lights that shone nearby in the evening once dark fell. But you know what? I could smell the trees, hear the gurgling of a nearby brook, and we had an absolutely lovely fire going on to keep warm and to amuse us with the crackling of the logs.
That’s right – City-girl Andrea came camping too! Now, to be clear, this wasn’t nearly her first time camping – and while I was cooking up burgers for dinner, she was handily getting the fire started and the camp chairs set up. A good delegation of labor, a hallmark of us brilliant MBA students.
The next day, we even had chance to hike up to Crotty’s lake itself!
Now’s as good a time as any to introduce my dear readers to Crotty – a highwayman and bandit from the… well, from the unknown history of the Waterford region. According to the owner of the land (yep, this is Ireland, and so everything is privately owned. Including the lake, and the mountain it resides on), Crotty was one of the inspirations for Robin Hood – an assertion I’m not completely convinced by… but I’ll leave this link for my readers to peruse at their own leasure:
But why not, when the goal is just to get out of town and sleep on the glacier? I mean… the goal here isn’t to get crazy views (even though I like to!), nor is the goal to hike a ton of distance (though I do hike some extra miles when I can)… The goal is to get out of town, carve a spot into the snow, and appreciate the cold and solitude.
The white river glacier works well for that – I know it like the back of my hand, it’s not a long hike, and I can take my time on the drive out. I mean, I’ve never set alarms for days that I go up onto the white river glacier. I wake up slow, get brunch, then… take it easy. It’s nice.
This trip was no different from the others. I mean, I didn’t even get to the trailhead ’till 5:00 or so! And Sundown was 6:30!
But that’s fine – I know the path, I have headlamps, and…
Why was there a fire going near my campsite? Was there someone else in my spot?? For the first time in three years???
No, dear readers, thankfully I hadn’t been site-sniped. It was better… so much better. I’ve never seen any one else camping near my area, in the 3+ years I’ve been up that trail. Which is kind of strange, since I only found this specific spot because, when I went up in 2021, someone else had already carved it out from the hillside…
Anyways, I met a team of folks who were making fondue, and we shared fondue. It was delicious, and I very much plan on making fondue the next time I go backpacking. Also I plan on saying fondue as many fondue times as I fon-can. Do. Due.
In trade, I promised aerial pictures of their camp – I made sure they were okay with my flying my drone ahead of time, of course, and they were quite psyched for the opportunity, so… win-win, right? Heck yeah, right.
The rest of the trip was exactly as normal – quiet, relaxing, and exceptionally enjoyable. I adore the snow, the cold, and the quiet that I can’t ever seem to find in the summer. Something about the stillness of the air, maybe? Or where the world seems to be hibernating, and not expecting anything from us? I can’t say for certain, but I can say that I appreciate it.
You know, I don’t think I’ve ever backpacked on the Northern aspect of Mt. Hood.
I don’t know if I’ve even hiked on the Northern aspect!
With a weekend free, some excellent weather (here, at least), and energy in my body… it felt like a good opportunity to look around on Alltrails, pick a route, and get myself up onto Hood! Starting, of course, with a quick brunch… because I’m me, and I like me some brunch.
I picked the Barrett Spur trail, with some input from my friend Bri (who, years back, literally hiked every trail in the “hikes around Portland” book). It wasn’t too long, but has quite a bit of elevation gain – and ends as a nicely exposed spur with excellent views of the mountain.
Keep that “exposed” note in mind… it’ll come in later on in the story.
I drove up, winding the Mustang up, down, and around the deep forest service roads around Hood. The Southern aspect of Hood is easily accessible, as is the Eastern… but the West and North are subtly less paved. Which is to say, they’re not paved.
I drove, carefully, ’till the trailhead. Found quite a few cars, didn’t worry since somehow cars and people don’t seem to correlate out here, and hiked in. As I hiked, my expectations were proven true – I saw maybe half a dozen people the entire trip, and only two backpacking teams, compared to the 12+ cars parked at the trailhead.
Magic cars, I guess?
Anyways it’s a moot point, because look at the pictures of Hood!
I trudged up the trails, made it to camp, and settled in for the evening. I flew the drone to check out some ice caves that I could see in the distance, appreciated the sunset, and was jealous of another team who came by who found a gloriously sheltered campsite up on the ridge, with a beautiful stone wall around it.
I was jealous, but not particularly concerned, since they hadn’t brought a tent (with the full intention of using the mini-shelter), whereas I had my trusty Nemo tent… It’s held up against the rain and snow, I was confident it’d be fine with the wind off the mountain overnight.
I ate dinner, the stars wheeled above, and I even took the chance to test out my new camera in its night-mode. Photos came out pretty well, I think.
I’d made camp a bit below the exposed spur, in a spot that I’d hoped would get a bit less wind. It may have, but the wind that I got was still quite above the structural plans of my ultralight tent. I slept fitfully, with semi-constant dreams about bears attacking the tent, wind knocking it over, and getting carried away on the gusts coming down from the mountain.
The tent survived the night, as did I, though not without peril – it nearly collapsed a few times overnight, and actually did get blown down in the morning while I was packing up.
Making breakfast was a challenge, in the wind, but thankfully I had the gear (and nearby rocks) to keep the stove lit for just long enough to get some water boiled, breakfast heated, and coffee brewed.
(Ed Note: Ben actually takes a break while writing this to go get some coffee)
Once I was fed, caffeinated, and watered, I headed up the Spur for a bit more of a view. I tested the limits of the camera’s zoom, I flew the drone around the nearby crevasse field and into the ice caves again, and appreciated the clear skies and chill breezes.
With my tent already packed, I headed back down the trail once I was done sightseeing. I chatted a little with the team who has camped nearby, but overarchingly I kept to myself – resting and reading when the need hit, pushing onward when it didn’t, and appreciating the fall colors throughout.
Elevation dropped, miles went by, and soon enough I was back at the trailhead. The forest roads fell away, pavement reappeared under the wheels, and I returned to suburbia.
