Continued from the September Update...

 

Hiking

Other highlights from the month would be HIKING. All summer Dad and I have been hiking the local trails. I tried to join the Chemeketans, a local hiking club. In an attempt to qualify, I made arrangements to be on one of the scheduled hikes.

The leader for the hike called at the last minute and informed me that no one else would be on the hike, would I still want to go? Well, I already had my daypack ready and waiting by the door, and invited my dad to come along.

I said, "sure, I'm still interested." So Dad and I met him at the Gingerbread House in Mehama early the next morning. He was an older gentleman with graying hair, but his complexion was rosy and free of wrinkles. He was dressed in a loud jungle shirt and khaki shorts. I couldn't decide if he looked like a safari guide or a tourist.

He was very friendly and jovial as we climbed into his van and enjoyed a 45 minute ride up Little North Fork Road, to Henline Ridge. There he warned us that the trail was three miles, at a 23% grade. I laughed and told him we could handle it.

He glanced at my dad, and he nodded. "We just finished a 14 mile hike at Elk Lake," Dad explained. "We're pretty good hikers."

The guide smiled, and I felt he wasn't convinced. He had seen far too many hiker wanna-be's, bragging about their abilities, but unable to perform when challenged.

While I slipped into my daypack, the guide strapped weights to his ankles. When I lifted my eyebrows, he explained that it made the hike more vigorous and would strengthen him for an upcoming backpacking trip.

Soon we took off up the trail, with Dad in the lead. The trail was steep, but wooded all the way. While the sun grew hot above the thick branches, it remained cool and almost chilly on the trail. As we reached a lookout point, I began noticing the guide ahead of me was gasping for air and the sweat was pouring from his forehead. 

As we continued up the mountain, I began to worry for him. Dad and I weren't even breathless  and the guide was already looking exhausted. We took breaks, which is sort of rare for Dad and I.

We reached the summit in just over an hour, even with the breaks. Dad was sorely disappointed that the hike wasn't longer, and wondered if we could continue on across the ridge and visit the lake nearby.

The guide was pleasant, but definite. No. We were going back down. I realized with regret that he was tired and wanted to get back to the van.

I don't blame him. The first dozen times I hiked with Dad, it had almost killed me. He hikes like a horse, I tell you. He goes as fast as possible, without running. On flat ground we go 4 mph or faster. Even up Henline Ridge, on a 23% grade, we had maintained 3 mph.

Somehow, I have became accustomed to the pace and it doesn't bother me. But for the guide, it had been a little faster than expected. He would have been fine without the weights, but with them he got a real workout.

The next hike was Pamelia Lake. It was absolutely gorgeous, and words can't describe how perfect the hike was. Dad guesstimated that we would be hiking around 12 miles, but we later learned it was more like 18.

Bob Korn and Dad led the way while I followed with a camera. Pamelia Lake was sadly low, since there wasn't enough snow on the mountains last year. However, Hunts Cove and Hanks lake were lovely.

The huckleberries were ripe and we feasted on them along the trail. Bob had brought homemade apple turnovers, and we drank from the ice cold streams that crossed the trail.

The path from Hanks Lake to the Pacific Crest Trail was hardly more than a cow trail. It eventually melted away into the grass and mud, so we blazed our own trail through the mountain meadows. By the time we reached the PC trail, we were a little tired.

Stopping to take a rest, Dad snapped this picture of me, with Mount Jefferson in the background. I admit, I was a little disappointed at the size of Mt. Jeff. We tromped around the foot of it... almost on it. I imagined mountains to be huge, monstrous things that would take weeks to climb. But I guess I was thinking of fairytale mountains.

By the time we reached the Jeep that evening, all three of us were tired. Dad had only slept two hours the night before, so he curled up in the backseat. I was thrilled to have caught the journey in pictures, and wished again and again that my camcorder were better designed for snapshots.

So that brings me to my next trip. It's September already, and if Dad and I plan to do any backpacking in the mountains, we better hurry. We're watching for the right week, but the clouds have gathered and we need to wait until they empty themselves before setting out.

I purchased a Camp Trails internal frame backpack the other day, and ordered some nice hiking pants. The moment I put on my new pants, I wondered why I'd been wearing jeans all this time. In fact, I've been wearing these pants for several days now, and don't want to change them!

 I've also been experimenting with different dehydrated instant foods. I'm trying to plan a lightweight menu for the trip. This morning I made pancakes from a mix and this afternoon instant mashed potatoes from a box.

This was a new experience for me, since I've always made food from scratch. Not having to peel and mash potatoes was cool.

I also tried scrambled eggs from dehydrated egg whites. I'm not sure what to say about that one... I don't highly recommend it. I'll keep looking for whole eggs rather than just the whites.

So that brings everything up-to-date! It will be interesting to see what happens this September. It will be a good way to end my 21st year. I'll be 22 near the end of October, and I'll be sorry to say goodbye to 21. It's been the best year of my life.

Fare thee well until next time!

Lady Brooke