The haunting sound of wind whistling through barren trees was our only company on the cold exposed ridge we found ourselves on. But this was not suppose to be. After last week's hypothermic and frostbitten event, I had planned to do a mellow hike this week that would be under 3000 ft of elevation and in the forest. It was going to be close to 20 miles of course, but I figured the trees would shelter us from wind and rain and the lower elevation would keep us away from snow and ice. Also, if I am being honest, I must admit that since last week's hike, I had not been feeling my best. So I needed to refrain from getting so cold this week. My brain was switched on and telling me that weekly visits into long states of critical hypothermia was not really great for my body.
That was the plan at least. But then I heard the National Weather Service put out an alert. We were expecting a huge winter storm to come racing in late the evening of my hiking day. It was going to dump an expected 2 feet of snow above 3000-4000 feet of elevation. My heart sank as I knew this was truly my last chance for some good mountain time until most likely spring. So the night before my hike, my body took over from my brain and changed up the hike. The new idea? Dump the truck as high up a forest service road on Mt. Hood as I could get it before they locked the gates and climb to 6000 feet of elevation where there is a shelter I adore.
Now in the summer time, you can drive right to this shelter known as the Cloud Cap Inn. It was built in 1889 and still stands as a beauty today. But in the winter, you have only two options. Snow hike a 20 mile round trip forest service road to get there, or climb up some cross country ski trails and then connect a few hiking trails with some possible bush-wacking to achieve the destination. I have only ever gone to the Cloud Cap in winter. Some day, I dream of going in the summertime, so I can actually see inside the beauty. In the winter it is boarded up so tight that Bigfoot himself could not bust in. (Believe me, I have checked every door and window and this thing is really buttoned up!)
I felt lucky to get the truck right to the trail head I was hoping for. The last few miles were super icy though and I had to put the Xterra into 4wd for the first time of the season. I heard him audibly sigh as he loves to be in 4x4 mode! I patted his steering wheel and smiled. "There you go baby," I said out loud to him. The trailhead parking lot was coated in thick ice, so I knew I was going to get to wear my full ice spikes for the first time this season too. I was so excited to strap them on along with a new pair of gaitors I had for my legs. It was projected to be in the mid 30's in the town of Hood River today, so I knew up here we would be in the high 20's to maybe low 30's only. I could see my breath as soon as I opened the door to my warm truck. I piled on layer after layer of fleece, quick-dry athletic jackets, puffer coats and thermal base-layers along with a stocking cap, 2 hoods, gloves, you name it. I was going to do everything I could to be warm today! I even switched on one of the two pocket warmers I had with us today to keep the cold at bay and stuck it in my pocket. As we hit the lower trail, a sign caught my eye which did not surprise me at all. Of course this was my trail.
Since it was so cold, I also had Nova wearing a puffer coat inside of her snow suit. She was actually panting for the first few miles she was so warm going up. I was as well, and had to unzip a few layers within our first half mile. The ice quickly turned into a thin layer of snow. We noticed that many of the Larch trees in the area were late losing their needles. They dropped those yellow needles right on top of our path of snow. This created the effect of walking on a yellow brick road leading me to my mountain home. I think I started to hum music from the Wizard of Oz as we climbed. Before long, I came to what was assuredly my favorite tree of the day. A large boulder had cracked and this little Larch tree had grown up inside the crack and was making a life for himself. Where there is a will to live and strong determination, there is surely a way. It was a good reminder that my will today was to make it to the Cloud Cap no matter what we faced on the way there.
The surface of the snow was becoming more icy as we climbed. I was so glad to have my crampons on my boots, as there was no way I could climb the icy ascent without them. I know what I am about to tell you is just weird, but there is something about ice spikes that I am in love with. First off, you are strapping large, long metal spikes to the bottoms of your feet. They have chains between the spikes that hold them all together. When you step in snow and ice wearing them, you stick pretty much like Spider man, unless the ice is too deep to gain purchase. I don't know about anyone else, but when I wear ice spikes, I feel about 10 feet tall, which is saying something for someone who is only 4 foot 10 inches. I also adore the sound they make. So I think everyone likes the sound of snow crunching under their boots and finds that music to their ears. But the deep crunch of spikes piercing the snow and ice with clanking chains is surely orgasmic. I think the only thing that could have made me feel more of a tough renegade in that moment was if I strapped a full sized axe to my back while wearing the crampons, like those men I met on Mt. Adams this summer. Oh, a girl can dream while climbing up a mountain!
I noticed that the ice was really changing the surface as we ascended up the north eastern flank of the mountain. It was thickly coating the snow and creating beautiful formations over the tops of the plants. I found it mesmerizing!
When I wasn't drawn to the icy formations at my feet, my eyes were drawn upward to the mountain peak peeking out at me from the clouds moving quickly around us. As we gained a ridge between valleys, the wind started to blast and pummel us. This was through a section that had been burned in a forest fire back in 2008. What remained of the standing dead trees through here loudly whistled as the wind moved through their barren trunks. At times, a blast would move past us that made them utterly scream. All three of us would stop to look behind or above us when this occurred in awe that a tree and some wind could make such a sound. I leaned on a dead tree void of all bark and weathered to a pale shade of grey as I tried to decide if the white balls falling around us were truly coming from the sky, or if the wind was picking them up off the ground. It was not suppose to start snowing until late tonight I thought to myself. But the clouds, color of the sky, and white balls falling on the wind were all telling me a different story.
Mt. Adams and Mt. St. Helens were peering over at us above a wicked inversion layer that moved in quickly. The clouds were filling the valleys between us and seemed to be growing higher and higher. They seemed to be pouring in from the southwest and I had the irrational feeling that they were going to keep sweeping up the mountain and overtake us. Once they did, I felt as if I would be suffocated by clouds. I tried to focus on the beauty of the clouds and not my fears of what would happen if they continued to climb the mountain after us.
As I moved faster to outrun the moving clouds, I realized that the back of my left heel was experiencing a fair amount of pain. It almost felt as if one of my spikes had turned inward and was puncturing my boot and foot. But I knew this was impossible, so ignored the pain.
Soon it felt as if my entire world was nothing but white and grey. The tree trunks were grey, the sky was grey, the snow at my feet was white. As the sky met the clouds and the clouds met the snow, my whole world was void of all color.
I was filled with the sensation that I was the only human left on the planet. I, and only I remained in this rugged, raw and remote place. This sense of barrenness and loneliness was intoxicating and filled me with a deep love for the moment and the place I was standing. In the summertime, this flank is covered in wildflowers. Everyone thinks that is beautiful. It is funny to me that many might stand in this same location right now and not see and feel the beauty surrounding them this time of year. I looked behind me at the trail snaking up toward me. It was easy to spot as the trail was filled in with snow. The beauty of a simple trail can over take me at times. Like Robert Frost, my feet want to follow the path less traveled.
On the way to the Cloud Cap Inn, we would be passing a few other shelters and even an old outdoor amphitheater. I knew we wouldn't be able to get into any of them, as they are all locked up tight now, but it didn't stop me from trying nonetheless. I was surprised and pleased to see that the Tilly Jane Guard Station built in 1934 was wearing a brand new shake roof since last time I was here. Whoever did this worked hard and did a fabulous job! There were even piles of cut firewood left all around stacked between trees. Even Nova was wishing we lived here!
When we arrived at a small creek, the girls were trying to figure out how to get a drink through the thick ice. Josie offered to pounce on it to break through, but I told her she could not this time since the temps were well below freezing and I didn't want to have to carry her frozen body out. But a short ways upstream, we found a small section of the flowing water that had not frozen over so we could get drinks from between the ice.
My left heel was really screaming at me by this time and I had to concede that it truly was snowing from the sky and not just being blown up from the ground. We needed to hurry to beat this storm, but I was hobbling gravely to try to avoid the need to gasp and scream out loud from the pain. It was really slowing us down and frustrating me. I looked down at my boot, but could see nothing. I debated if I should take my boot off here in the snow to investigate the issue further. But decided it best to wait until I got to the final shelter before doing so. The pain just made no sense at all. My snow boots were not new and I had two thick pairs of cushioned socks on. My feet did not feel wet and I didn't think my spikes or gaitors were strapped on too tightly. The pain was a mystery that made me feel as if I was rolling forward on a flat tire with no spare in the pack. I was not going to be deterred of my goal however. I was starting to catch glimpses of the Cloud Cap through the trees ahead and pushed onward and upward wincing with each step.
As we finally arrived at 6000 feet and the Inn, I gasped with pleasure to see that the shelter was also wearing a beautiful new shake roof to cap off its log walls. A lot of work had clearly been done here this summer as well. I remembered the story of how this historic building was protected back in 2008 when that forest fire ravaged the area. The fire fighters worked tirelessly to dig fire-lines around Cloud Cap, but then they also wrapped the entire building in a sort of foil material. Thank God that it worked and the building was saved! It is truly a remarkable place with outstanding views, and as always, I had it all to myself this time of year.
Yup, that red bag pulled out of my pack on the bench above is my first aid kit. I have never used it for myself in all the years I have been carrying it. But today, was a new day. I had pulled off my spikes, gaitors, boots and socks to find the back of my left heel missing skin and bleeding through the first sock. The skin missing was only about the size of a quarter, which was nothing significant. Yet it was astounding the amount of pain that came from this minor issue. I suddenly had a new respect for any burn victim! I bandaged and wrapped my heel up before getting my gear back on. I was banking on the descent pushing my feet to the front of my boots to take the pain away for my hike out. I still could not figure out what had caused this, but I felt better now that I had investigated the issue and had a good visual on the extent of the injury. I told myself it was minimal and to move on with my day, but I secretly wished there was room at this Inn for me to spend the night. I laughed with the irony of it being almost Christmas and wishing for a room at the Inn. Perhaps there would be a manger with straw and livestock close by I thought!
But until I found that manger, I was determined to enjoy my time lounging on the front deck of the Inn even while temperatures were in the upper twenties and the wind was fierce. I kept my gloves on while eating my hot soup to avoid frost bite. Nova had to wear her snood again to keep her ears from freezing. This time she was in her fox snood, which the wolf found ridiculous and couldn't bear to look at her when I first put it on.
As the sun was falling lower in the sky, the mountain seemed to be turning more blue. It was almost as if he was hypothermic now too. His deep glaciers glowed in the failing light of the day. I couldn't help but remember all the times I had climbed up that ridge to the left to the Cooper Spur shelter and on to and beyond the Japanese climber's rock. From up there you can hear the glaciers popping and cracking as they constantly move. It is a rare and special place indeed.
I peeked around the side of the Inn to see the progress the clouds were making in coming after us. Luckily, they seemed to have reached a stand still and were giving us the time we needed to enjoy our sunset from the Inn on the mountain. I knew we would need to say goodbye and leave soon, but it was so hard to pull ourselves away. It was the temperature and wind chill that finally forced us to pack up and reluctantly head down the mountain.
As we began our descent, the snow started to fall more in earnest. It was breathtakingly beautiful for sure. I realized that this was the hike that would finally get me in the mood to listen to Christmas music! I knew that every place my boots touched was about to be buried in feet of snow and that I would be the last to touch these spots until spring. It made the very ground feel holy to me. We needed to drop about 3000 feet of elevation in 5 miles, so it was going to be steep. As night descended upon us, the ground became even icier and I had to really concentrate on getting each step right, sinking my spikes deeply so I would not slip and fall. A broken ankle would be unthinkable in this location with the impending storm quickly moving in upon us. Ours was the only vehicle at the trailhead and there were no humans anywhere near us. I was sweating with the exertion of being extra careful on the climb down. I wished I had brought one of my trekking poles, but figured it was easier to be hands free with the girls attached to me anyway.
Today was a first for me being truly hands free after dark as well. After some good advice from my caving friend, I found myself the proud owner of a super bright head torch. As it got too dark to see safely, I switched it on and placed it over the top of all my hoods. It took some getting use to in order to get the beam aimed in such a way that I could see both ahead of me and the path at my feet at the same time. But the light adjusted easily and before long I was walking in the brightness without even having to think about it. I am not sure if it was the angle of the light upon the ground, or just the unique icy conditions on the way out, but I was blown away by the sparkling surrounding us. It was as if there were a million diamonds on the ground twinkling at us. I knew it was just the crystals of ice catching in the beam of light and not real diamonds, but it was beautiful nonetheless. Josie couldn't even look....was it the shock of sparkling crystals or the bright headlamp beam shining into her face? She wouldn't say.
What we did know was that today was a very special day and we were happy to have some final mountain time before it became too late. Were we hypothermic once again this week? Well, my temp was 94 degrees coming off the trail. Not as low as last week, so I guess we were successful in that. Strangely, I was feeling very hot and sweaty even at that temperature, but I am pretty sure that was the difficult descent wearing too many layers and not a true hypothermic event.
Just like the Larch tree growing in the crack of the boulder, we had been determined to reach our goal today. We were determined to really live this day, no matter what it cost us. What is a little skin, cold temperatures and sore muscles really? By sheer will and God's grace we got through a day spent in below freezing temps, ice, snow, bitter winds, clouds chasing us, a steep climb on a very painful heel, and finding no room at the Inn. Unlike when Jesus came into this world with no hospitality or home, at least we had a warm truck and a warm home to go to. Just like the Wise-men who brought gifts to our King, I was given the gift of diamonds all around me on my night hike out and a day of peace and beauty on the mountain. Of course I was also spending time with an adorable fox and wolf too! We were blessed indeed and my heart overfloweth.
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