For my last hiking day in April, the weather was suppose to be the warmest so far in 2023. So you would think I would be enjoying the sun on a pleasant hike through a meadow or by a river somewhere right? Maybe working on a spring tan while searching out wildflowers? Yeah, me too. But it didn't quite work out that way and it was totally my fault. I believed some books I should not have believed. For a long time now, I had read about a peak in Oregon that is known as the tallest peak in the Oregon Coastal Range. I had been wanting to do it for some time. Everything I read talked about how amazing the wildflowers are here in the springtime. Apparently this is a super accessible peak because there is a road that goes almost to the top, so anyone can see the views. But for hikers, there is a trail that starts at the bottom and climbs all the way up, crossing over the upper parking lot on the way. So that was what I wanted to do. But I knew I needed to do it before "prime" time when everyone and their brother would be driving up and hanging out at the top like they had earned it. So I figured if I went in the last week of April, my timing might be perfect. It sadly, was not. What was surely a very easy summer hike, became misery in the snow. But much of that was my own doing I will admit.
Perhaps the most challenging part of my day though was getting to the peak. This meant I had to drive 3 hours each way on major freeways and through cities like Portland. I have not driven in crazy traffic like that in a long time. I am much more comfortable on forest service back roads and didn't realize how much so until I was on a 5 lane freeway with vehicles weaving in and out between lanes and airplanes flying low overhead to land at the International Airport. It was a thing of nightmares. Even Josie started to have a panic attack in the backseat and wanted to climb up and sit with me. I told the girls there was a good chance we were all going to die before we even made it to the trailhead!
But never did I feel closer to death during this commute than when we stopped for gas in Albany. I was pumping my own gas (I know, in Oregon you are suppose to let them do it...but I am stubborn). My truck was about halfway through filling it's tank when the woman on the other side of my pump suddenly just drove off with the gas line still in her SUV. It jerked the entire pump in front of me violently and then the nozzle flew out and hit the ground. Visions went through my head of huge explosions and fire and death for myself and my girls. Luckily nothing happened. While I stood there completely stunned, the young man who is charged with filling tanks slowly and nonchalantly walked to the pump and put the nozzle back in and asked if I needed anything. He didn't even blink. Apparently this is not the first time the kid had seen this. I shook my head feeling a very bad omen for the day.
That omen got worse as we neared Corvallis. Now as someone who spent their first two years of college at the University of Oregon (Go Ducks!) before I finished my degree at Washington State University (Go Cougs!), going into Corvallis was like visiting the enemy. They are the home of Oregon State and the rival for any UO student! But that was not what hit me. Although I did not enjoy all their one way streets and poor signage, I must admit. The problem was that I decided to put in one of my many Aaron Lewis CDs. I chose one I had not listened to in awhile and the first song hit me like a sledgehammer. The lyrics that filled my car were "Darkness surrounds me, I can't see...." Are you kidding me was all I could think. I cannot get away from the theme of darkness lately. (I had been so good to stop listening to the Paint it Black song too!) This darkness is stealing my hope! With this prolonged winter, I have never felt such a long time of darkness! How I long for sunshine on a hike. But never so much as when the peak came into view for the first time on the drive while the song was still playing. The blasted thing was covered in snow! Well so much for wildflowers and spring hiking I thought! Good thing I have both micro spikes and full crampons with me! But when we finally hit the trailhead my stubborn streak had begun full force. I could feel the decision I was about to make. There was no snow at the truck or for the first half mile or so of the trail. It was beautiful and felt like April hiking.
The forest here was made up of huge fir and cedar trees. There were some hemlock trees mixed in and the ground was soft with the needles fallen from them all. The air was fresh and filled with the scent of wet soil and evergreens. I tried to shake the bad omens off. I was soon to regret my stubbornness though. You see, I had decided that I was going to hike in my summer shorts today because it was suppose to be almost 80 degrees. I was also hiking in trail runners and not snow boots. I was just done with snow gear and was going to do this my way. I think this was my way of giving Mother Nature a big middle finger. I was damn well going to climb this peak in shorts and runners only if it killed me. But I did put both pairs of spikes and some pants in my pack for the climb just in case. I might be stubborn, but I'm not stupid. After having seen the snow from far below, I did decide to leave my book in the truck. I would surely not be lounging in a high meadow reading today.
Shortly after leaving the truck, we started to hike through areas with a lot of storm damage. Clearly some violent wind had moved through here! Thank goodness for trail crews....you guys saved us from a lot of the under-over game!
Before long we were hiking through shallow snow. Josie rejoiced and I was praying it stayed about like this the whole way up. The snow was still fairly icy and so we were hiking on top of it without sinking in much and therefore my trail runners and shorts were great. The air felt warm and I was quite comfortable. That of course changed the higher we climbed. As you would expect, the snow started to get deeper and deeper and a lot slicker. Route finding on the highly switch-backed trail that we had never done before, became more difficult. We started to focus on the blue dots. These are the blue dots painted on trees that some trails are lucky enough to have to help with route finding in winter conditions when you can't physically see the trail anymore. It is a bit like an Easter Egg hunt. You hike from one blue dot to the next and that is how you stay on trail. This one was easy to find.
Others were much more faded and difficult to detect. For instance, can you spot the blue dot in this section?
Yeah, it is on the tree to the right. If I ever hike this trail again, I will have to remember to bring some spray paint to freshen some of these dots up! As we climbed higher, the snow deepened and became much softer underneath the layer of ice on top. We all started to post hole. So much for my trail runners I thought. Since I did not have gaiters on, I could feel the snow working its way down inside my socks and melting into my shoes. It didn't take long until both my shoes and 2 pairs of hiking socks were completely saturated and squishy. I looked down at my legs and they were becoming rather red from the cold emanating up from the snow. I told myself it was fine and that I was going to make it to the peak without pants or spikes. Decision made.
As we were almost through the worst of the switchbacks and very proud of ourselves that we had not lost the trail yet, we saw a pair of other climbers coming down. They were completely decked out for winter hiking. They had long snow pants, gaiters, snow-boots, ice spikes, trekking poles.....they looked like an advertisement for climbing Mt. Everest, just minus the oxygen. They both dropped their jaws open when they saw me. I was glad I had decided to wear a light sweatshirt over my tank top at least. They looked me up and down and were clearly concerned that I was crazy and would never make it. I wanted so badly to pound my chest and tell them "I'm a professional here." But to avoid talking about the lack of gear on my body, I tried to make conversation and ask how route finding got up through the final push to the summit. "Well of course you have GPS." they said confused by such a silly question. "No, no I never carry that sort of thing. I like to go by instinct." I responded without thinking. They looked at each other slowly, before returning their hard gaze to me and my red legs and wet shoes without spikes. The voice in my head kept urging me to tell them I was a professional now. "Shut it" I told myself sternly. Instead, to fill the total silence that now fell between us, I just said, "Well you clearly had GPS, so I will just follow your boot prints if I need to," and kept on hiking before they could try to stop me. Now I was even more determined to not take any gear out of my pack until I reached the summit. I was going to prove that I was tougher than the "Everest hikers" or kill myself trying. Maybe I am a little stupid after all.
I ended up following their tracks for another mile or two, but then the surface of the snow became so icy under the upper treeline that prints were no longer identifiable on the surface. Wonderful I thought to myself without much merriment. I meandered around for awhile in a general "up" direction and made my own switchbacks when it was too steep to cut the ridge. Every now and then I would find evidence of old snow shoe tracks, but they would shortly peter out if I tried to follow them. So I just kept making my own way and blazing my own trails. God forbid anyone try to follow me I smiled. Soon though, we started to post hole very deeply. It was strange too because most of the time when you post hole, it happens a bit like slow motion...a gentle sinking. Not today. Today was more like having your body drop into an invisible void through a trap door with no warning. It would make me gasp audibly when I would so instantly find myself up to my hips in snow. I started to think that it would make a pretty good horror movie....have a monster who lives under the snow and pulls unsuspecting hikers to their death. Like a snow shark with arms.
Pretty soon, each and every step was a sinking experience taking me at least to my knees, if not higher. The ice and snow were a bit cold on my bare skin, I am not going to lie. While I knew we had to be fairly close just based on miles traveled so far and the feeling of nearing openness through the trees, there was a part of me that wanted to go back to the truck and drive up the darned thing! But that would be cheating and something I could never allow. So onward we pushed. We finally broke out into a huge meadow and could see the summit. Nova was not thrilled to see how much more snow and elevation we had to post hole through to get there and I think was hoping Josie would carry her. I was feeling the same way. I am pretty sure I was sunk in a snow pit when I took this photo of the girls from beneath them.
This supposedly easy hike was turning into a beast and I knew I was going to need to pull some grit and determination out. I had to dig deep inside myself. Every part of me was started to scream....there you have seen the summit....you don't really have to make that final push up there do you?? At this point I had been post holing long enough in shorts that I could no longer feel my legs and my soaking feet were seriously long gone frozen and starting to concern me. My thighs, so use to climbing that I usually don't even recognize when I am hiking uphill anymore, felt like they were on a stair master from hell. Pulling my legs up and back out of the deep snow with each step was draining me. I was bleeding from scratches all up and down my legs. We finally made it to that upper parking lot on foot. It was completely full of snow! Clearly, driving here would not have been an option anyway I smugly told that voice in my head.
Since I still had refused to put my spikes on, we were slipping and sliding on the surface when we weren't sinking into it. If only I had brought my snowshoes instead of leaving them in the truck I thought! But we continued pushing onward, weaving back and forth up the final summit making up our own trail as we went. The final push held such anticipation and excitement the closer we got though! Nova and I were practically holding our breath. I couldn't wait to see what was up there! Josie was distracted laying in the snow as usual.
Then we crested the peak and probably for the first time in my life on a trail, I said out-loud, "That's it?? Seriously!!" It was a very anti-climatic moment. I think some curse words came next but not sure if they were from me or Nova at this point. Sure, we were standing at 4100 feet overlooking the Willamette Valley and had views of several mountain peaks and the ocean in the distance. But it was a bit hazy and nothing seemed very spectacular. My eyes have seen such greater splendor for so much less of a physical investment that I was honestly disappointed. Even the girls seemed to look around like there must be more.
So I did what any reasonable angry person should do. After hours of climbing to get to this point, I turned around to face my rear to the town of Corvallis and dropped my drawers to pee on the summit. Take that OSU Beavers I said! It was rather satisfying. Now, I know, I shouldn't blame anyone but myself for my misery in not wearing pants and snow boots. But Mother Nature....you owe me! I better have sunshine and flowers next week!
While on the edge of the rounded summit, I found a patch where the sun had melted the snow back. We went to stand there in the flattened grass with the hope that it might allow my shoes to dry out a bit and see if I could get some feeling back in my legs. I found that not only was my skin all scratched up from the ice, but there was also a big bleeding cut high up on the back of my right thigh. That must have happened when dropping down into a snow hole and having a tree or branch scratch me I thought (or the snow shark).
Since I was on the summit, I decided that I could finally now put on some pants and full ice spikes. It would take more than micro spikes to safely do the descent ahead of us. So I chose the full spike set. Josie was trying to take a nap in the snow when I put the gear on, but she perked right up when I offered to glissade down from the summit to the snow covered parking lot with her since I now had pants on. I have sadly already learned the lesson about glissading without pants on and was not about to make that mistake again. Let's just say your skivvies ride up and you will lose all skin off your bum in the process. (That will have to be a story for another day. Please don't ask why I was glissading on icy glaciers in my underwear until I am ready to tell you that story.)
As is always the case, the way down was so much faster than the climb up. We left the summit at about 6pm deciding to not stay up there for sunset since I still couldn't feel my feet. We could catch sunset on the way down. We came straight down the ridge, sans any switch-backing. We were rather lucky we didn't snap a bone each time we dropped down through the snow while the forward momentum kept our upper bodies moving. I thanked God each time I had a near miss. The spikes on my boots made me feel like spider man so I couldn't help going fast! Even Josie gave me a stern look of disapproval at one point for our speed. Really, I think she just didn't want to leave the snow!
When we finally got below snow line, we found two presents to unwrap. One was the setting sun through the trees which we all stopped to watch while listening to a burbling brook of snow melt behind us. The next was a single wildflower. Surely a sign from Mother Nature of better hikes to come I figured. I just need to be patient as this is the spring that feels like it will never come and I will forever be encased in blackness. Sometimes I feel that way about the Rapture.
In the end, the day was 6 hours of driving and 12 miles of hiking. About 9 of those 12 miles were in snow. Probably 4 of those miles were non-stop deep post-holing wearing short nylon shorts and trail runners. Would I do that again? No....but someone has to convince the stubborn side of me. Because she would surely say that she would indeed. Who needs pants anyway? After all, I think I might be tougher than the GPS Everest hikers now and that warms a special place in my stupid heart.
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