By this time last year, I think I’d hiked up the White River Glacier at least twice… backpacking both times, if I’m recalling correctly.
Kind of strange… this year I’ve been on just as many adventures, but for some reason backpacking hasn’t really been on my goals list. I’m not sure why, but I just haven’t been feeling is quite as much. Work stress, world stress, or just a general desire to relax by the fire on my couch, I can’t say.
What I can say, is that I’ve been reaching out a bit more, and that I’ve been getting the chance to do things with friends in town more. Like today, when I met up with another Ben to hike up the White River Glacier!
Looking through my notes, it’s been just about 11 months since my boots have touched this glacier. 11 months of adventure and fun, but 11 months is definitely a long time to not see one of my favorite hikes! When we were debating where to go, the answer came pretty quickly – it’s time to re-visit some great views of Hood on a lovely relaxing slope!
I… Uhh… I don’t have much else to say about this one, honestly.
We met up in Portland, grabbed some sandwiches (heck yeah baguettes!) and had a great time escaping the office and getting into nature. Since we met through work, we definitely talked a bit more shop that was strictly optimal… but it’s important to get the chance to vent about frustrations, and no one can quite understand the challenges of work than someone else FROM work, you know?
We talked, we hiked, and we appreciated the cold snowy air.
It was a very good day.
As a bonus, after finished the hike we hung out for a bit at his place in Portland – ordering some burgers, giving me some puppy-cuddle time, and even watching the first few episodes of Peacemaker.
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.
I’ve lived near it for years, now… and somehow, this winter is really the first time since probably 2017 that I’ve regularly gone up to visit. I love the snow, and I’m finally remembering just how much I can enjoy getting out onto the snow fields.
This weekend was a little unique – instead of going on a long solo adventure, I went with someone! Woo actually socializing! Go Ben!
It was a weekend of firsts – My friend Laurel had retreated into her winter cocoon for a while, so this was the first time I’d seen her since the Oregon rains has swept into town. It was also her first time putting chains on her truck, and her first time on cross country skis! Double-win, for double excitement! We met up in Portland, transferred probably too much gear from my car into her truck, and headed out toward the mountain with grins on our faces; there’d been a storm a few days prior, and the forecast was looking beautifully blustery.
Perfect weather to cross country ski in, right?
Right!
Things went pretty much exactly as planned – The roads before Mt. Hood were nice and clear, with a bit of rain and a smattering of traffic… but not much of either, thankfully. We ate breakfast sandwiches as we drove, stopping for coffee along the way. Soon enough we got to the pull off where the traffic cameras showed snow starting to accumulate, and we pulled over to put the chains on the truck before grinding upward into the snow.
Laurel did gloriously; not having much trouble getting the chains on, and then holding a steady hand on the wheel as we forged upward in elevation. Really, not much to say past that – the drive went well, with surprisingly few other cars doing strange things. People… seemed to be pretty sane this weekend, driving slowly and cautiously, with not a single person sliding sideways down the highway (unlike last weekend).
We parked, geared up, and headed into the snow.
The terrain was glorious – the snow was a bit deeper than it had been the weekend before when I was backpacking, but traveling was much quicker thanks to the skis, and the fact that I wasn’t carrying a 40lb backpack through the snow drifts.
Similarly to driving, Laurel did great on the skis – and as always, I got a deeper appreciation for the activity myself after seeing someone new taking to it. It’s why I love teaching people, and exposing people to new things – when you show someone something new, you have the chance to see it through their eyes for a few moments… and remember what it was like the first time you tried that activity.
It’s awesome, and I really appreciate getting to remember just how special and fun some of these adventures of mine are… especially when they start to become almost routine.
We skied ’till we couldn’t ski anymore.
Literally – we got right up to the foot of the glacier, where the trees stop and the mountain begins. It was beautiful.
It was beautiful, but also rather intimidating. Mt. Hood made it clear that we weren’t quite welcome today; the wind picked up as we left the cover of the trees, to the point that making forward progress was basically impossible… and seeing more than 10ft in front of ourselves was completely out of the question.
We’d come far enough though – our goal had always been just to explore and enjoy skiing, while catching up on the last few months, and we were accomplishing that goal quite well. So we didn’t press our luck – we took a short break in the lee of a tree, to have some cocoa and a quick snack of brownie bites. Then, headed back down the mountain toward the parking lot.
The way down was… interesting.
See, Laurel had rented her skis, which meant that they were in great condition and well waxed. Myself, on the other hand, had my pair of hand-me-down skis that some old neighbors had gifted me when they moved out of town. I haven’t ever waxed them, and I’ve been going on quite a few trips so far this year.
When we started downhill, I was pretty quickly left behind. One of my skis was still pretty well waxed, but the other was noticeably less so. But I’m nothing if not resourceful, so as we descended I pretty quickly got the hang of… well, basically skateboarding down the mountain. I’d balance mostly on my waxed ski, pushing off with my unwaxed one. I could control my speed pretty well, and was able to keep my fear of crashing to a pretty controlled unease.
I couldn’t quite keep up, still, but I think I did pretty well, all things considered.
After we arrived back at the truck, the cocoa thermos came out again. Sandwiches were made, cocoa was drank, and views were admired.
We drove home, a drive as uneventful as the drive up, thankfully. Nice and simple – a very good day on the mountain.
…
Then I got home, after transferring my inordinate amount of gear back into my own car, and found out that Laurel had sneakily attached a tiny hand to my antenna. The danger of hanging out with friends again – the pranks resume.
