PCT Part 1 July 20 to July 24 Naked and Afraid

July 20, Sunday - We pack up our backpacks and Steve drives us over to Donald's campsite to pick up my niece, Grace, who will be joining Kelley and I for two days. Donald says a quick prayer over all of us and then we hop in the car and Steve drives us up to Little Crater Lake to begin. Grace was not with us when we visited Little Crater yesterday and so we take a moment to read the informational sign and then Steve takes our pictures.

Kelley, Rebecca and Grace

The cousins three! Kelley, Steve, Rebecca

PCT Baby!

Finally, we are on the trail! We walk across the boardwalks and as soon as we hit the PCT we are swarmed with mosquitos. We quickly stop and put on mosquito repellent. Kelley takes off her gloves and later finds out that she has left them beside the trail. Kelley has a condition called Raynauds. She gets cold easily, especially her fingers, ears and nose. Luckily she has two more pairs of gloves so we decide not to go back to get that pair.

This is Grace's first backpacking trip and hiking with her is like hiking with a naturalist. She knows the names of the various berries and whether they are safe to eat or not, and also knows a lot about the different animals and wildlife. For only being 16 she is tough, observant, graceful and quite a pleasure to have on a backpacking trip. She is the first to notice that the trail is lined with edible berries, and we pause to devour blueberries and huckleberries. Kelley is obsessed with the TV show Naked and Afraid and says, "If we were on Naked and Afraid we could live on these berries."

blueberries and huckleberries

Taking a scenery break and checking cell phone coverage

Mt. Hood in the distance

 The trail goes along a ridge for several miles and we can see Mt. Hood ahead of us, beckoning. As soon as we get up on the ridge the mosquitos disappear. A slight breeze keeps them down on the other side of the ridge.

 

Climbing up the ridge trail

 Mt. Hood plays peek-a-boo with us behind some clouds and eventually we reach Highway 26 and scamper across. There is a trailhead and a picnic table beside the trail with some  pretty gross pit toilets. I take off my Keen boots and pull on my Brooks Trance 13s. My toes have felt cramped in the boots all morning and I decide to try my trail runners instead. Instant relief! I apply moleskin to a couple hot spots and manage to stave off any blisters. I'm ready to go when Grace alerts us that we're at the turn off for Frog Lake. Grace loves frogs and we need more water so we head off the trail down to the Frog Lake Campground.

We road walk down to Frog Lake and Grace is delighted to find that the lake actually does have frogs! Kelley says, "If we were on Naked and Afraid we could boil up these little frogs and eat their legs."

A handful of frogs

The lake is supposed to have a great view of Mt. Hood, but the mountain is hidden behind clouds. We stop at a picnic table in the day use area and Kelley rehydrates the beans we will have for dinner tonight.

Frog Lake

 On the way back to Frog Lake Campground, Grace notices a bush covered in caterpillars.

Hungry caterpillars munch on this shrub

Frog Lake Campground has an old fashioned hand pump for their water and we use it to get water to refill our water bladders and water bottles.

Success!

We bid goodbye to Frog Lake Campground and head back to the PCT. But first we have to stop to take another picture of Grace.

Grace has earned herself the trail name of Frog Girl

The trail gains elevation and we keep passing campers coming down the trail to their cars in the parking lot. Surprisingly, many of them are carrying their sleeping bags and tents in their arms and a couple have full sized Coleman cook stoves! We pause to take a breather and meet thru hiker Mammoth who is looking for his trail companion Tic-Toc. He says that he hasn't seen his footprints for awhile and suspects that he got off the trail somewhere.

Right before the Twin Lake turnoff we meet a couple hikers who tell us that they're the last ones out of Twin Lakes and we'll have the whole lake to ourselves. We decided to descend down and stop to camp at Lower Twin Lake rather than continuing to Upper Twin Lake which is further.

Kelley makes a small fire and cooks up the bean dish with chipotle she's rehydrated which is warm and delicious. We discover we have cell phone service! A brisk breeze is kicking up and Grace and I retire to our tent. I loan her my cell phone so she can read a book I've downloaded. She also shows me some photography tips and tricks on my phone that I didn't know I could do. Total mileage for day one is about 12 miles, including our detour to Frog Lake.

Campsite at Lower Twin Lake

Cartoon effect photo that Grace takes

 July 21, Monday - We wake early and break camp after a leisurely breakfast of granola and coffee. I slept restless, as did Grace. The lake in the morning is surprisingly warm when I filter water for the day. We head back up to the PCT and are soon walking through lots of trees.

Beautiful wild lilies

We are taking a break picking some blueberries when a couple comes up the trail. We all stop and chat for a moment. It is The Boss and Sherpa. I've heard of them through Carrot Quinn's PCT trail blog and it is pretty cool to meet them and talk with them. The woman, The Boss, is extremely thin and carries a small pack. Sherpa, her husband, carries a larger pack and wears a broken pair of glasses that are missing one of the side arms. After talking for awhile they continue up the trail. It feels so odd when you meet someone you've read about.

Blue blazes for winter use

We reach Barlow Pass where I take off my silk liners and apply a bit more moleskin. Kelley uses the port-a-potty at the trailhead and declares it the worst one she's ever been in. Barlow Road was built by pioneers in 1845 and was one of the first passes over the Cascades in Oregon. It allowed covered wagons to cross the Cascade Range and reach the Willamette Valley. It was known as one of the most harrowing sections on the 2,000 mile Oregon Trail. Before it was built the pioneers had to go to the The Dalles and float down the Columbia River to reach Fort Vancouver.

We cross Hwy 35 and the trail starts ascending rapidly. Some annoying black flies appear. The trail is steep and we take lots of breathers. Staying at Timothy Lake for three nights has helped me acclimatize to a 3,000 foot elevation but we are now above 4,000 feet.

The trees are also blazed along the trail with this upside down exclamation point

Eventually we break out of the trees and in to some fabulous alpine meadows filled with wildflowers. The trail becomes a gritty sand that is hard to walk in and the heat feels intense. I can tell Grace wants to continue without all the breath catching breaks and I encourage her to hike ahead up to Timberline Lodge where we will meet her. I understand that sometimes it is harder to start and stop than just power through. She is quickly out of sight and I yell after her "Don't take any candy from strangers!" Her laugh floats back down to me.

Mt. Hood is totally clear now

Looking back at Mt. Jefferson. You can see the smoke from the fires

Purple lupine line the trail

At last! Timberline Lodge in the distance

As we struggle through the soft sand I say to Kelley, "I'm just about ready to break out into some non-Pentecostal verbage!"

Kelley starts to laugh and says, "Have I ever told you the Free Pie story?"

"No," I respond, "I don't think so."

"Well," she says, "I used to work at a coffee shop that also made and sold pies. One day I was there with my co-worker and the baker had just taken out two pies from the oven and had put them on the counter to cool off. A woman came in to get a cup of coffee, saw the pies sitting on the counter and asked, 'Does that come with free pie?' My co-worker gave her a stone faced glare and replied shortly, 'No.' The woman got her coffee and went to the door, which has a bell over it that tinkles when you open and shut the door. She opens the door, realizes she hasn't zipped her coat and stops to zip up her coat, letting the door swing shut. My co-worker thinks that she's gone out and before I can let her know she is still in the store she blurts out, 'Free pie! Free pie!! F_ _ _ you!! Free Pie!!'  Ever since then the term "free pie" has been our code for "F You."

I can't stop laughing. "What did the woman do?" I wonder.

"Actually, she didn't do anything," replies Kelley. "She just opened the door and left!"

Kelley sits on a rock telling the Free Pie story

We arrive at Timberline Lodge and Grace is sitting on the outside deck waiting for us. She has already called her mom for a ride and her brother, Josh, has come to pick her up. Kelley and I go into the Lodge and ask about a hiker dorm room. The clerk tells us they have one bunk room left with two bunk beds in it. The total comes to $144, but we decide to get it. We quickly check the weather forecast and I realize I need to keep my Golite rain poncho because there is a 20% chance of rain tomorrow. I bundle up my boots and some other things I no longer want and we give them to Josh and get our re-supply bag from him. We say goodbye to Grace and they zoom off down the road to home.

The first thing we do is jump into the showers. The bathroom/shower rooms are down the hall. The shower takes forever to get warm and just when I decided I'm going to have to take a cold shower it finally begins to warm up and gets scorching hot. Clean hair and skin! Pure bliss!

We do laundry in the tiny stackable laundry machines down in the basement and share a kale salad and pizza from the Blue Ox Bar. I want to see the swimming pool Kelley keeps talking about and so we go outside to see it and realize the most beautiful sunset is occurring. I run to my room to get my phone to take pictures and then we run outside. Outside there is not only a sunset but there is also the most amazing rainbow I've ever seen.

My brother, Don, snapped this picture of the rainbow from 40 miles away at the Warm Springs fire

Remnants of the rainbow

Amazing sunset

July 22, Tuesday - I sleep well on the comfy lower bunk bed with the soft down pillow and when we wake up we head to all-you-can-eat breakfast buffet. It is just as amazing as others have reported. Belgian waffles, omelets, yogurt, smoothies, oatmeal, bacon, sausage, eggs and more for $14.95. The fresh squeezed orange juice is extra, which we didn't realize  until we got the bill.

So yummy!

I can see outside the window that the 20% chance of rain appears to be more like 100% because it is definitely raining.

After breakfast we wander over to the Wy East building to put a few things into their hiker box that I don't want to carry. Kelley picks out a meal because we realize we're one dinner meal short and we sign the hiker log. I buy a package of Second Skin because I'm worried I'm going to run out of moleskin for my feet. We check out of our room and head up the trail. It begins to rain again and we stop to put on our rain gear. I have a Golite rain poncho that covers me and my backpack and Kelley has a rain coat and a large piece of clear plastic to cover her pack.

Kelley poses with a heart tree

Trying to stay dry

This rain poncho is too big and doesn't snap properly. It is quite a pain.

We ford across the Zig Zag river. I scout a place up stream and it is a challenging crossing but we make it fine. My feet get wet but I'm not worried. I figure I'll walk them dry like I've read about in hiker blogs. My poncho keeps snagging on my hiking poles and I'm getting frustrated until Kelley figures out to tie the ends together. This works pretty well. I just don't understand why they didn't put snaps at the bottom so it will snap together.

 Despite the occasional soft patter of rain and some low lying clouds the views are still pretty good.

I'm not sure which river this is. Perhaps the Rushing River .

Cool windy bowl walk below this waterfall at Lost Creek

Rocky cliffs below

View from the Lost Creek bowl

One of my favorite views of the trip! Unknown waterfall

 

The last two miles descend in knee screaming trail. We come out a narrow ravine and see a hiker camping near a burbling stream. I look at the stream and think, if that is the Sandy then it will be no problem! Little do I know.

 

We continue onto flat rocky riverbed and I see the real Sandy in front of me. It is late afternoon, the worst time to try to ford a river, and we can see the water gushing over the top of three small logs that have been tied together to make a crude crossing. We decide to wait until morning when hopefully the water will be lower and not covering the logs.

Mt. Hood up the Sandy River river bed

We decide to camp by the big rock in the picture above, but I can't shake a nagging unease. I finally suggest to Kelley that we go back up to the narrow ravine and camp near the other hiker. She is reluctant to intrude but I feel much better once we decide to do that. The other hiker is a young woman named Zoey from Connecticut who is a PCT SOBO, or hiking southbound. She crossed the Sandy earlier by butt scooting across the logs before they were submerged in the water and she is happy to welcome us into camp. We set up our tents and Zoey asks about the weather forecast. Thunderstorms predicted, I tell her, with a 60% chance of rain. We all snuggle into our tents for the night.

I awake around 10:00 pm by flashes of lightening and loud thunder. I'm so glad we are protected in the narrow ravine and not out in the open by the river. The time between the lightening flashes and sound of the thunder indicates that the storm is less than a mile away from us. Rain pours down, and then the storm passes.

July 23, Wednesday - The thunder and lightening return around 5:00 am. Rain pounds my tent and I can see a large puddle forming in the left corner of the tent. I crawl out and try to re-stake it so it won't leak but the gravel rocky ground we're camped on makes that tough. I do the best I can and crawl back in my tent. The bottom of my sleeping pad is wet but I'm still dry in my down sleeping bag on top of it.

At 7:00 am as the rain continues I suggest to Kelley that perhaps we should hunker down and wait for the rain to pass. She's already packing up, worried about her things getting wet, so I clamber out of my tent to pee. I don't want to pee right by the stream so I go up towards the trail and meet a woman with a young child. The child looks to be about 9 or 10. They are dressed in rain gear and I can't tell if the child is a girl or a boy. The woman tells me two PCT hikers have just passed her northbound and had crossed the Sandy River this morning by hiking a mile up river and finding a large log to cross on. I wish her luck and go back down to share with Kelley that we may have a way across the river. We pack up all our stuff. My tent is soaked but I'm hoping that once we cross the Sandy River that the sun will appear and dry us out.

We get to the river and we can see the woman and child on the other side of the river. If they can do it we can do it we think! We start hiking up river over slick boulders and river rocks. We follow footprints and pass rock cairns. Finally we get to the log. It is a huge tree that has fallen over the river and it has large branches sticking up. It is wet and slick and there is about a six foot space at the beginning with no branches to hang on to. I take off my poncho so I won't get snagged on anything and try to butt scoot across the open space with my pack on. Below me the Sandy River is a dirty brown roaring monster. I reach the first branch and try to break it so I can scoot over it. I will have to stand up once I reach the other branches to continue to the other side. My legs are shaking already and I realize that there is no way that I can do this. I just don't have the strength and with how wet and slippery the log is I am afraid of slipping and falling in the river.

I scoot back to where I started and hand my pack down to Kelley. "I can't do it." I say. "It is just too dangerous." She agrees and we begin hiking back to where we started. I refuse to admit defeat and try to find a safe place to ford. I think I may have found a place but when I cross some shallow places I can see it is much too fast. I go down a little lower and try a different spot. I can't tell how deep it is because of all the silt in the water. I step in and it reaches up to my knees. The force of the water almost knocks me down and I waver for a moment before digging deep to find the strength to step back to safer ground. I'm done. The river has won for the day.

Frustration wells up inside me. I turn to the Sandy River and scream, "FREE PIE, SANDY RIVER, FREE PIE!!" I look back and Kelley is doubled over in laughter. I start laughing as well. We continue back to the narrow ravine and I slip on the rocks, landing hard on my left hand. I lay stunned for a moment, hoping I'm not seriously hurt. Miraculously, I'm not. My hand isn't even scratched. Well, I think. Well. I guess that's what I get when I curse the river.

By now it is 1:30 pm. We are cold and hungry and I am soaked to the skin from taking off my poncho to try to cross the log. We climb up under some trees and I tell Kelley that we need to eat something. I rip open a packet of tuna fish and she tries to open a package of chicken but her hands aren't working. I open it for her and we both just guzzle straight out of the packages. Kelley is trying to talk but is slurring her words. She wants to hike back up to Timberline, a ten mile journey. I know there is no way we will make it with how late it is in the day and with a 3,000 foot elevation gain. "Kelley," I ask, "Are you shivering?" When she replies that she is, I tell her firmly, "We are not hiking. We need to get warm and dry. We are going back down to where we camped last night and we will set up both tents and throw all our wet stuff in one tent and we will put our sleeping bags in the other and get warm."

I plunge down the trail to the tiny campsite and she follows me. My tent is the wettest so we throw our stuff in it. Surprisingly, Kelley's one person tent is almost completely dry so she lays her thermarest mat in it and we toss our sleeping bags in. I have a dry bag I keep mine in, so it is dry. Kelley's is, too. We strip off all our clothes and throw them into my soggy tent and are standing in the rain completely naked. I look at Kelley and shout, "Naked and Afraid!" and then I jump into my sleeping bag. We lie in our sleeping bags laughing uncontrollably and the force of our laughter actually warms us up. Who knew that laughter could warm us?

Hunkered down in Kelley's one person tent

We stay in our sleeping bags the rest of the day and it takes two hours before I'm finally totally warm. I know we need to get off trail to dry out our gear but I'm afraid of trying to re-ford the ZigZag River with how much rain has fallen. I silently pray that God will send someone who can tell us how to get to safety.

Around 6:00 pm we hear, "Hello, are you guys okay?" A northbound PCT hiker named Night Walker has also been stymied by the Sandy River and decides to check on us before hiking back to Timberline Lodge. He has a GPS and maps from the local ranger station and he tells us about an alternate trail called the Zigzag Mountain Trail. He says it looks like it is about an 8 mile trail and that it will drop us off at the Zigzag Post Office. A super nice guy, we thank him profusely for checking on us and giving us much needed information.

He heads up the trail to Timberline and I think, thanks, God.

July 24, Thursday - We decided to hike back towards Timberline Lodge and we will decide once we hit the Zigzag trail if we want to take that or try to Timberline. I try to wring out my wet clothes and throw my tent and clothes into a large white plastic garbage sack. My pack is completely soaked as well. It had been under the vestibule but the vestibule had collapsed in the rain. I pick up my backpack and pour the water out of it. At the bottom I find a large black garbage sack and I put on my dry running shorts and dry icebreaker wool t-shirt. I put on my dry long sleeved polyester shirt and I cut a hole in the garbage sack for my head and arms. I put on my rain skirt and a dry pair of socks. Yesterday evening I'd mostly dried out my tennis shoes by holding them over our camp stove flame. Kelley also dons a black garbage sack. It is drizzling lightly.

We pack everything up and head up the trail, stopping for short seconds every so often to catch our breath. We have to keep hiking or we'll get too cold. Before we know it we've hiked up about six miles. Surprisingly, my feet feel great and I suddenly feel full of strength. I've felt this way before when I used to jog. I'd jog for a week never able to go beyond a certain point and then suddenly one day I'd be able to go twice as far. It is a good day for this to kick in!

Just as beautiful the second time

rainy and foggy

beautiful wildflowers

We take off our packs for a quick pee break and to grab a snack but within five minutes I am shivering from cold. I didn't realize that my pack was keeping me warm. We put on our packs and continue hiking. Up ahead we see the Zigzag trail. We've been discussing whether to continue to Timberline and try to ford the Zigzag River, or take the trail. We are both short, only five feet tall. River fords that others can easily do with their long legs are often quite challenging for us. We take the Zigzag Mountain Trail.

The trail descends rapidly and then starts to ascend steeply. We're walking on top of a windswept ridge and I can tell that if the low rain clouds weren't obscuring our vision that the views would be fabulous. The trail dwindles to a narrow overgrown brush choked track and we beat our way through the brush. My legs are being scratched and whacked on the brush and I finally stop and put on my wet shorts and zip the legs on. The wet shorts dry rapidly beneath my rain skirt and soon I don't even notice that they were wet. I'm glad to have my legs protected.

After hiking several hours a fork comes in the path. To the right Burnt Lake Trail goes down and to the left Zigzag Mountain trail goes up at an insane elevation gain. I groan. I pull out my phone and I have two bars. Enough to text but not enough to talk. I call my husband anyways and miraculously we are able to talk. I ask him to get on line and find out where Burnt Lake Trail goes. He does so and tells me that it connects to a forest service road. But it goes up, he says. No, I say, it goes down. I'm looking at it and it goes down. He continues to insist that it goes up. (Later we realize he meant north, not elevation) I snap at him to call Adam and have him meet us where the trail connects. We're taking Burnt Lake Trail. I'm done with the up.

We take the trail down to Burnt Lake and the map on the board shows there are day use areas on the other side of the small lake. We expect to see a parking lot but can't see one. The map shows a dark trail that goes to Lost Creek. We take that. The trail becomes overgrown and bushy and I begin to worry we somehow missed that parking lot and that we should hike back up to the lake to double check. We're tired, hungry and second guessing ourselves so we stop to eat for five minutes. As we sit on a log I say out loud, "God, we could really use an angel right about now."

Literally one minute later a hiker comes around the corner. We explain our predicament and he confirms that we are on the right path. There is no trail head at the lake, we still have 2.5 miles to hike to reach the trail head. At least we don't have to hike back up! We continue down the path and right before hitting the trail head Kelley's husband Adam is on the trail hiking to meet us. He has warm blankets, towels, warm dry socks and even a plug-in heating pad. He takes us to Portland where we stop at Killer Burger to eat. We later realized we hiked about 20 miles in nine hours. Now we have to dry everything out!

Feet are in great shape but the legs are scratched and bruised