Trout Lake 8/30

Colombia Gorge Hotel in Hood River OR. 

It's Saturday, Aug. 30. Labor Day weekend is upon us and that is why we are back in Oregon at the Columbia River Gorge hotel. All the rooms in the small town of Trout Lake were taken. We were picked up at a trailhead, 16 miles from Trout Lake Resort by a friend of Tortuga who lives in Monroe, WA and doesn't want to paint his house so instead he drove 5 hours to pick us up. He took us into town and we ate at the only cafe in town, calling every inn and B&B there. Everything was booked so the next closest place was Hood River. We lucked out at the very plush, once again opulent historical landmark hotel Columbia Gorge, where Rudolph Valentino once laid his greasy head as well as Presidents Theodore Roosevelt and Calvin Coolidge. It was built in 1921 and we are staying in the only room left; a joined room that sleeps 6. It's situated next to the mighty Columbia and has a waterfall cascading beside it. The gardens are spread out and proved perfect to pitch our wet tents. FC has her shorts hanging out the bathroom window and Princess has her socks and underwear hanging between the slats of the blinds. Perhaps this is the first time this lovely hotel has had to host PCT hikers. This hotel is now about 41 miles from the trailhead so chances are not too many hikers stay here. The other guests are quite clean and well dressed. We try to sequester ourselves in our room but the laundry hanging out the window is a dead give away.

Princess, Dick, (our trail angel) eating breakfast in Trout Lake. 

     We have resupplied and have eaten twice. Tortuga and his friend Dick are in one room watching football and baseball while FC, TC, Princess and Mr. Sandals are organizing their food. Apparently Tortuga just throws everything in his pack and hopes for the best. He admits to being a failure at organizing anything. His pack is generally heavier than need be and he is constantly giving his food away to the Germans who are constantly receiving food from everyone. It all seems to work out perfectly. Like yesterday when we were eating lunch and were sitting at a trailhead behind a parked car. The people who owned the car had been backpacking for 5 days and returned when we were there. Princess asked the first person who arrived if he had any extra food but he was the young son and said the food was with the adults who arrived forthwith. Tortuga, on behalf of the Germans, once again asked for food. The women began to rummage and out came dried fruit, Asian pears, crackers and bean dip, avacados, ginger snaps from TJ's in Seattle, pretzels, and a beer to share amongst us. We always get what we need and Tortuga is always trying to give his oatmeal away.

     We have 423 miles to go. Back on the trail tomorrow but not before we eat breakfast at this fancy hotel. Back in a flash.

Falls at the hotel. Tilt!

He stayed at this hotel. 

Breakfast at the hotel. 

Washington 8/26-8/30

We are two days into Washington and have less than 500 miles to complete our odyssey. TC calls Washington, Oregon on steroids. Everything is longer, the ups and the downs. Everything is greener and has more moss on it. Maybe the forests are older and the moss has been here longer. Even the rocks are covered which means they will eventually crumble. Moss is powerful. It softens everything it covers and eventually destroys it. Does that remind you of anything? It is a pretty color and it cushions your butt when you sit on it. The wood surrounding our campsite last night was rotten. FC tried hanging her food bags but it was difficult to find anything that didn't crumble when touched. Green decay is everywhere  you look and touch. It reminded me of Angor Waat, that ancient monestery in Burma that is covered in vegetation and is crumbling. I believe the monkeys are now in charge. There are monkeys out here swinging in the trees, parrots singing Ave Maria and every now and then you get the flash of an orange robe darting through the trees. Quite Burmese here, really.

 

   This is our third day in Washington and Tortuga just about killed himself to reunite with us. He took a week off to help with the fires so he hiked 5 thirty mile days to catch us. He has blisters in both feet but it was worth it to him. We have less than 450 miles to go. 

     Today was a 6,000 ft. day. We had 3 cardio workouts but thankfully were in the trees with the monkeys. It's incredibly humid and for three days now FC can only tolerate walking in her sports bra. She can't tell if she is getting hot flashes,has lung Qi deficiency sweating or heart Qi deficiency. She can be slightly chilly and sweating at the same time. She has lost most of her fat and along with that went her estrogen so it's hard to tell what is going on. The first two days TC was not happy with the temperature and suffered in moody silence. Presently we are expecting weather, maybe some snow. It's windy and cold ( it's 9:17pm). We have all our warmest clothes on. From humid 80's to blustery 50's. Welcome to Washington weather. 

Mt. Adams. Our newest volcano. 

       Mt. Hood, the recreational playground of Portland is now behind us and we are circling Mt. Adams. Poor Mt. Adams. In Washington Mt. Rainier gets all the glory and Mt. Adams is the 2nd tallest. 

It is to our east and Mt. St. Helens is to the west. Mt. Saint Helens looks like a volcano without its top on. It blew off in the 1980's and only 2 people died. One was an 85'year old who didn't want to leave his house so he went down with the lava. The other guy was a scientist who wanted to take some kind of reading but got too close. People get plenty of warning when a volcano is going to blow. Cities are not built close to volcanos in Oregon or Washington but if Mt. Hood blows the beautiful Timberline lodge would be buried and that would be a great loss. Hawaiians seem to be living dangerously close to all of their volcanos but it's not like they can run too far. It's either lava or sharks.

     Way back when, in Oregon we passed a very large lake, Lake Timothy, and near that lake was a small artesian lake called Little Crater. It was 75 ft. deep and 34 degrees. We could see clearly to the bottom of the turquoise/purple/charcoal/ sour patch blue water. You could see entire trees criss-crossing the small lake; tall trees.The color, depth, and temperature were so unusual. There were no signs prohibiting swimming. Who would get in water that cold? FC would, that's who. She did not dive in fearing bilateral spasm of the vagus nerve and possible instant death. Instead she dipped all of her body in except her neck ( this is where the vagus nerve is located). She so wanted to swim but had to be content with a partial emersion. The water felt sacred. She has never felt cleaner or more pure.

  

Little Crater Lake

Deep powder blue

Chilled to the neck. 

      Fourth day into Washington. The weather is a bit chilly but FC's sweating is under control. Today we are going 18 miles. Yesterday we did 23 miles and were fairly spent. 

Blue Lake. Our campsite for 3rd night. 

       

Princess enjoying a Spectacular view of something. We have had only glimpses of WA. We took a parallel trail (to PCT) so we could view. 

Mt. Adams. 

Firecracker up to some tricks. 

Trout Lake Resupply. 

Eagle Creek and Cascade Locks 8/25

The carved out trail. 

Yesterday (8/23) was about a 15 mile day but we were all a bit extra tired because we descended into hot and humid and the path was uneven most of the day. We all chose the scenic variation of the PCT which led us beside Eagle Creek. Included in this once in a lifetime package was Tunnel Falls, and a "Grand Canyonesque" skinny gorge that literally took our breaths away. The bridges over the gorge matched it in skinnyness allowing only one person passage at a time. The walls were so steep that most of the valley floor was inaccessible. People, being people, had carved a few precarious paths down, probably on their butts and lived to regret it. There did not seem to be any Army Corps engineered paths down to the river/creek (what is the difference between a river and a creek? Is it just in the naming process or what?). There was a smaller falls called Punch Bowl which displayed a sign prohibiting diving. Really? It must have been over a hundred feet high and the bowl part looked more like a cereal bowl than the Hollywood Bowl. Only the brainless would dare to jump. FC is a jumper by nature but is proud to include herself in the category, "with brain". The water looked so inviting but was so far away. 

Many falls...falling. 

       It was Saturday when we descended and so we saw a lot of people climbing up to see the big Tunnel Falls. For them it would have been a 12 mile round trip. It was hard to breath in their detergent/spray-on sunscreen/insecticide odors. We won't even get into what passes for perfumes and colognes. We felt especially sorry for the out of shape dogs being dragged up in 80 degree weather. Their tongues were purple and touching the ground. I didn't care about the out of shape people dragging up their enormous guts and butts...just the animals. People hiked up in sandals carrying up 12 oz bottles of water and nothing else. They obviously did not read the bulletin at the trail head which instructed people on what ten essentials to bring. They were not even close to even one of the required items. There were some extraordinary clumps of beautiful, perfectly coiffed people who looked like they had just jumped off of a Vogue cover spread. Hollywood replicas of perfection. FC was partially delirious at this point, singing sailor songs and pretending to be from England, greeting everyone with a strong cockney accent. She does some strange things to entertain herself but it seems to work.

Metlako Falls. 

      We FINALLY reached the bottom and TC, FC, and Princess entered the water. TC and FC immersed totally, Princess stuck her feet in. Mr. Sandals seems to have an eversion to water or he may be too self conscious of his stick-like body. He was thin to start out with and now he is beyond thin. His mind and resolve are so strong it's a bit frightening and yet admirable. What to do? We give him unwanted advice often. He is still walking and completely uncomplaining. He is polite in refusing our advice. He is a quiet man, as I have stated before, in fact, if he doesn't like you he won't talk to you. He is an easy man to love because there is not one iota of bullshit in him. I've never met anyone like him. What you see is what you get; no artiface, no people pleasing, calm and secure, painfully honest, an absolute rock of stability. If he lets you in you can feel the depth of his emotions. He is not loose with his emotions but he can and does emote. Fire Princess, emotional, emotive, loud, funny, also honest and determined is his perfect match. She warms up his metallic nature and creates a wonderful space for him to explore his other silly, crazy side. It is wonderful to see their love for each other deepen and grow. They have only been together for three years but their relationship is solid and probably one of those mandated by heaven. Did I mention his photographs are out of this world stunning? He takes pictures for himself. He is not interested in getting published or becoming famous. He could be famous. His eyes see things differently than most people and that is what makes him so special. I will include his blog at the end of this entry so that you can see his pictures. pct2014.wordpress.com

Climbing for ripe blackberries. 

Eyes on the prize, one freakIn blackberry.

     We arrived in Cascade Locks by 3:00pm and checked into a Best Western Plus. TC and FC are determined to rest and not do too much. This is the town to do it in because it is so small. Yes, there is a newly opened micro- brewery, yes, there is a place to get decent coffee. There are three motels and one or two decent restaurants. The locks are gone because a dam was built down river but there are remnants of it and a lovely, green marine park to play on and camp on.

Bridge of the Gods behind FC. 

Columbia River with Washington across the way. 

       Our ultimate treat to ourselves was to go to the Bonneville Hot Mineral Springs Spa, across the  Columbia river in Washington. We paid Shrek, a trail angel to drive us there. Princess, FC and TC enjoyed the 50 meter pool and the various jacuzzis inside and outside. The building was another one of those sacred spaces, built by a Russian guy who believed in the healing powers of the waters. Grandiose and splendid. One gets the feeling that corners were not cut and money was not being saved while this place was being constructed. Objects made with quality materials are beautiful because quality itself is an attribute that offers only the purest of intent. Quality objects feel and look eternal. The effort it takes to create the highest  quality of work has to be motivated by something that is pure and perfect.My La Sportiva boots are not quality boots. 

Spa girls. 

Swimming pool. 

Lobby. 

Fireplace. 

Relaxing. For real!

  

Some may consider opulence unnecessary. There are starving people in the world, there are people who live on cardboard or in tin shacks. Why not spend $ on these necessary, practical needs? Sometimes beauty has a price and it is worth it.

       Mr. Sandals abstained from the baths and stayed in the hotel stitching up his threadbare shirt that must last until Canada. He lives in a cardboard box in Germany.

       Washington here we come. We are at mile mark 2155. Manning Park is mile 2669.  The end of our walk. Yippee!

Circling Mt. Hood 8/21-23

Mt. Hood from the south. 

Mt. Hood shrouded. We must cross this giant drainage. Many miles & feet later we will camp. 

We reluctantly left theTimberline at about 3:00 pm. The Germans left an hour before us. We hiked until 7:00ish and managed to put in another 10 miles that day racking it up to twenty miles. That was astounding because our break at Timberline was 4 hours.

. It seems that we are always walking around these behometh volcanos from 3 sides. We see all sides but the east facing side. They take us about 2 days to get around them but we see them for at least a week before and after, that's how big they are. Clouds live around them and weather is created by them. Mt. Hood is no exception. It was clear when we reached the resort and clouded in when we left.

PCT hikers peering over the sandy edge. 

We reached a campspot by the Sandy River along with 12 other PCT hikers. It was packed. There were also some weekend and section hikers but they all came in after us (we can be very fast) and had to find other spots further down the river. It was crowded but the beauty of PCT hikers is that we are all in our tents and asleep by 8:00. There is no partying so crowding is not such an issue. 

      FC decided she wanted to sleep in. They had not slept-in, in their tent for five months. She complained that after staying in hotels she was not rested. There were too many things to see and do. She couldn't sleep in properly. She had looked at her face in a mirror at Timberline and been shocked at the dark circles and bags under her eyes. She looked bad. She needed sleep. She thought her kidney chi was becoming too depleted and suddenly felt some back pain. More sleep was the answer so she told TC all this. TC offered an extra 30 minutes. Instead of 5:30, they would get up at 6:00. FC replied that that was not sleeping in. TC relented, eventhough she likes starting early. FC told her that she looked really bad too. FC did not want to get up in the dark. Princess and Mr. Sandals would leave early. They had obviously not looked at themselves in the mirror.

      The next morning TC awoke at her usual time (for her nature call) and came back into the tent, lying awake until 6:50, which is when her highness, FC opened her eyes. FC woke up much more refreshed than usual. She wanted to sleep until 7:00 everyday but knew she would have to keep convincing TC that sleeping an extra hour a day would not interfere with their goal of reaching Canada by Sept. 25th or so. 

Mt. Hood playing misty. 

      We left camp at 8:00am and reached the Sandy River shortly. This river is a glacial river. Until just a couple of weeks ago this river had a bridge. A hiker (not PCT) was killed when a flash flood wiped out the bridge he was running across. Twenty-three people had crossed before him and made it but it was his day to die in this freakish accident. FC and TC did not know any of this at the time. The river was fast, deep and silty. FC tried finding the bottem with her pole a few times and failed to find it. She walked up the river looking for a safe place to cross. TC was beginning to lose it. Remember, her greatest fear of the PCT was river crossings. She thought they were all behind her and now, surprisingly, they are facing their most challenging crossing. FC finally finds a place she can at least see some rocks to stand on. They had walked up the river for 3/10ths of a mile. Boots and shoes off, backpacks undone, side by side they cross safely. TC was visibly shaken and FC relieved. Onward they walked towards the stunning Ramona Falls. 

FC crossing the fast & silty Sandy.

   On the way, FC questioned 2 men on now they had crossed; one leapt across and the other went in thigh deep with his running shoes on getting pants and shoes thoroughly wet. Both these men were over 5'11. The leaper said he was nervous and threw some gear to the other side before jumping. If this river warranted a bridge you can trust us, it was sketchy.

      

Ghost  & TC

      Ramona Falls doesn't look anything like a Ramona. It is a spread out feathery falls cascading over a wall of multi-tiered blocks. It is definitely one of the prettiest and most striking water falls I have ever seen. It felt magical to be in front of it surrounded by a green mossy forest. There was another weekend hiker drawing a sketch of the falls in his journal. He remInded FC of John-Boy Walton because he wore the same kind of hat and had a friendly direct gaze while talking to you. We expected him to have a southern drawl. FC wished she was a weekend hiker so she could take the time to lie on the ground, look up and dream, maybe even try a drawing or two. 

Ramona Falls & FC

TC crossing bridge below Ramona. 

    We continued on and crossed the Muddy River. This time we walked over two fallen logs holding onto ropes someone had thoughtfully tied on.Who would have known there would be so much excitement in Oregon?

FC crossing the Muddy River.  

     This particular hike was enchanting. There's just no other word for it...emerald green stillness. Occasionally you will hear a bird. Other than the creek burbling by it is quiet. Unlike the California section where we were awakened every morning at the precise moment the sun began to rise by a lively neighborhood coffee clutch of birds, in Oregon, either the birds are all sleeping in or there are none. The birds we do hear during the day are more exotic sounding, more like tropical island birds. The birds in Oregon are all soloists...one at a time.

Mossy Oregon  

Soft & green. 

North face of Mt. Hood. Last view as we head further north. 

I did not tell you about another fire we passed. While descending into a valley from Mt. Jefferson, Princess saw smoke and walked over to investigate. There was a fire burning by a campsite and no one appeared to be there. There was a tent so she called into the tent. A lady came out and could not speak English. She spoke only Spanish. The fire was spreading. It was not surrounded by a fire ring. It was in a dried out stream bed travelling along long pieces of wood. If not attended to there would be a forest fire. The lady had no water. We tried putting it out but it was spread out and we didn't have a shovel. The water was half a mile away. FC volunteered to take everyone's Platypus containers, fill them up and return. On the way she met Can-Can, a young man with long legs who she told to fetch the water quickly. The Spanish woman was trailing behind FC clutching 2 tiny empty water containers. Bless her heart. It was probably her crazy boyfriend who had gone off hiking and left her alone with an unattended fire he had started. He's off having a wilderness experience while she is left with the responsibility of controlling a potential forest fire. Do not fear Claudia (her boyfriend had left a note addressed to her) the Fire Princess ('newly named) with her trusty servants will come to the rescue, which we did. That little in incident set is back about 30 minutes and Fire Princess was pissed for the rest of the day. She was sick of fires and the time they subtracted from her goal. She was done with fires. Let them burn. We did meet a ranger walking up to the area we had been in and we informed her of the fire and asked her to check on It and Claudia. Where the hell was the perpetrator?

R. Sandals, Fire Princess & FC on fire patrol. 

Princess needing a treatment from FC after the stress of fire. 

The Blur 8/20th or so...

Ok. It has happened in a more permanent way - the blurrrr. One day blends into another. We are buried in the green tunnel and occasionally surface for a vista view then back down we go. Oregon is soft and we have been made soft by it. A 4,000 ft. climb makes us indignant. It makes us tired and Oregon is supposed to be flat. That's what we were told.Whenever we have to climb more than 100ft. we complain loudly. We become outraged.I think we have become soft boiled eggs. Oregon is so green and bouncy soft. 

Mt. Hood, south sides

At this very moment we are at the Timberline Lodge an all season ski resort. The mountain is Mt. Hood. It has snow on it all year,some might say. We would not ski on it now but I guess Oregon skiers are hard core desparate. FC met two young guys on the trail this morning. One of them had skis on his back but he was heading into the forested area. He was going to ski on bushes. No joke. His companion was his camera man. FC immediately thought "Radical Reels" or "Banff Film Festival" entry. She also thought that this guy out of Salt Lake City might be famous and she was unaware. His skis were totally shredded so she believed him. He said he had his eye on some line of bushes going down the gully. Had she not been so focused on the imminent lunch buffet she might have followed him into the woods and become famous herself.

Timberline Lodge

       Before continuing on with buffet talk let us return to the town of Sistrs and tell you where to eat. The best Mexican food we have ever eaten is in the town of Sisters. It is called Los Agaves. Eat there. The roasting company in town, Sisters Roasting Company, has good coffee and tea.

Find FC in the roasting company. 

Princess FC

Pilgrim. The llama that lives at the BW hotel. 

The pastries except one (a homemade donut) are mediocre but the ambience is lovely. The Gallery is the best breakfast in town. Oatmeal and grits are sides with egg dishes. Nice fat juicy pork sausages & hot Fresh applesauce. Everyone makes their own ice-cream so there are plenty of ice-cream parlours to choose from. Sisters is a quilting Mecca. They put on a quilt festival every July and over 20,000 people attend. They display the quilts outside along the streets, over 1,200 are on display. Their biggest store in town is the quilting store. Of course Sisters has it's own micro-brewery and a cool bookstore. Sister's is definitely worth visiting. People move there from Eugene because the weather is better. There is a rodeo every year and a cowboy store in town. Visit Sisters if you are ever in Oregon.

Everything else. Timberline Lodge Buffet. 

Dessert Buffet 

      Back to Timberline Lodge and the buffet. Fabulous food : roast beef, pulled pork, pork tenderloin, excellent Mac and cheese, excellent potato salad, amazing waffles that you cooked yourself from a stellar waffle mix on the table. For $20 it was more than worth it but our stomachs have shrunken and it is pathetic to watch us try to eat a lot and fail. We all want so much to eat a ton of food but it's like we have all had stomach bi-pass surgery. On the trail we eat small amounts often. The buffet killed us. TC did not eat anything for the rest of the day and FC finally felt slightly hungry at 8:00pm. They hiked for ten miles after eating yet were not at all hungry. TC had pains in her right side and farted continually for 5 hours. It was the desserts we had on top of the rich meats. Desserts should be a meal in themselves and should Never be mixed  into an already full stomach; disaster will ensue, gastric distress in all it's glory. TC can tell you all about it. FC was dismayed when she passed a whole area of luscious ripe blueberries and had no appetite for them.

     After the buffet we took hot showers. We were not supposed to but we received instruction on how to get away with it and we did. We had to put our dirty clothes back on but we were clean underneath. The Timberline treated the PCT hikers well. We were not allocated to a "special" area to go through our boxes; we were allowed to mingle with the other guests and eat with them. Other resorts make sure to separate us from regular guests by sequestering us in underground dungeons and root cellars.We are dirty looking and we smell but we have the money to pay for things.  The Timberline was 5 star excellent and treated us like all their other guests. We were shown respect and treated with dignity. Thank you Timberline. 

     The lodge itself was built with old world craftsmanship. It's a National Historic Landmark and was built in 1937 as part of a WPA federal arts project  pairing craftsmen with apprentices. It features Old World craftsmanship blended with modern amenities.Built during the Great Depression with most of its structures made on- sight. The wood is joined by mortise and tenon with barely a nail insight. The beams are enormous as are the cuts of wood that make up the floor. Everything is shiny and smooth from being continually touched. The handrail of the staircase is made of some soft metal in the shape of a snake with acorns at either end. It's the kind of place you want to stroke and fondal because it is made so perfectly and with great skill. It's an art installation of huge proportion made with more than just wood & stone. FC would place it up there with cathedrals (in fact it's arched fireplace room is built like a cathedral) only she feels it's warmer and and more lively. The Timberline Lodge is worth visiting.