Tuesday, February 26, 2013

Sunday, February 24, 2013

Skiing/Hiking Back Home - From Mt. Ashland, OR

A few weeks ago, I pondered the possibility of catching a ride up to Mt. Ashland and skiing/hiking all the way back home.  I did some research and discovered that the idea is legit.  I could follow service roads until connecting with familiar hiking trails.  In fact, I could follow the same exact route of Ashland's annual Hill Climb - a 14 mile grueling race from downtown's Lithia Park to the top of Mt. Ashland.

It was raining when I woke Saturday morning but I decided to go ahead and give the idea a shot.  I ate a quick breakfast, packed and walked towards the freeway with my skis in hand.  I stood before the exit, leaning against my skis, holding hot coffee and a cardboard sign with the words Mt. Ashland boldly drawn.  I was quickly able to wave down a ride - a friendly young couple headed up to snowboard.  By the time I clicked into my skis, it was well past noon. 

At first, the snow was deep, dry powder.  I began breaking trail within the first mile - an activity more akin to snowshoeing than skiing.  However, the snow became easier to ski as I descended.  The skiing soon took off.  I glided down the mountain, mile after mile.  Effortless.  The snow was perfect.  The sun came out. I passed by no one.  Eventually, only a few miles from home, the road became littered with puddles.  The snow puttered out.  I ate a snack, swapped my boots for shoes, strapped my skis to my pack, and continued on foot.  

I never found that distinct line where snow met dirt - the photo I'd been hoping for.  It was dark by the time I strolled into town.  I passed through my neighborhood toting my skis proudly.  I made it home, walked in, dropped my pack in the living room and headed for the shower - having successfully discovered another sweet day trip.  
























































Monday, February 18, 2013

Complete Circumnavigation of Crater Lake - Crater Lake National Park, OR

I set off for Crater Lake at 8am and arrive at 10am - just as the visitor center opens.  Five or six park rangers greet me as I enter - each in their twenties, excessively cheerful, and impeccably dressed in stereotypical ranger outfits.  A cute young ranger is assigned to me - she goes over avalanche danger areas, snowmobile hazard zones, rules and regulations, safety procedures, ect.  She scribbles notes on my map.  She zips-up her jacket and takes me outside for parking directions.  We head inside again.  Paperwork wraps up.  The rangers will be expecting me by Sunday.  She wishes me luck.  I almost hug her on my way out.

Crater Lake is unbelievably attractive.  The volcano rises above all else, allowing for sweeping views of Southern Oregon.  The color of the lake is an indescribable shade of blue.  It even looks deep.  There are no gentle entrances to the water's edge - only sheer cliffs.  Furthermore, Crater Lake's rim is rugged.  The lake's circumference is just over 20 miles, yet the trail that follows it must meander up and around numerous obstacles for over 34 miles.  Crater Lake is so intimidating that I'm not sure I'd paddle around on its surface, even it were legal to do so. 

I begin my trek just after 11am.  My early excitement lifts me over the most grueling sections of the trail - I even go out of my way to reach the lookout tower at the top of Watchman Peak.  The weather changes quickly - sunny, cloudy, warm, cold, calm, windy.  The weight of my pack doesn't bother me much.  The snow is icy, slippery, and fast.  By 3pm, I pass the last day hiker and press on as the sun threatens to set.  With achy toes and shoulders, I spot the perfect campsite - a bare patch of dirt above the trail.  It comes equipped with rocks for anchoring, a stump for hanging, and a picture perfect view of Crater Lake.  I race between photography and tent construction while the sun disappears.  In darkness, I crawl into bed, layered in clothing, hot dinner in hand, confident in my warmth.  I read survivor stories for an hour or so until drifting into dream land. 

I wake to the sound of scrapping.  I unzip my frozen tent and frozen rain fly and peer into a frozen landscape.  It's still dark.  The shadowy outline of a man skis by, little puffs of heat emitting from his head.  I turn on my headlamp and read, munch on trail mix, and find the will to break camp.  Once I'm up, my hands freeze while packing.  My feet soon follow, inside of frozen boots.  I kick and stomp, eager to finish packing, eager to get moving. I throw on my pack and attempt to click into my skis.  I attempt again...and again...and again...and again.  Just as I'm about to lose it, I take a deep breath, slow down, refocus, and click in.  The sun is up - not a cloud in the sky.  I set off, toes warming, grateful for sunshine and determined to complete the trail by sunset.  

The naked sun makes for harsh lighting and I stop less frequently for photographs.  I've gotten a good handle on the icy snow and glide fairly efficiently.  By noon, I'm only eight miles out.  I allow myself more freedom to enjoy the act of skiing, choosing routes with steeper slopes and racing down them.  I ski into the visitor center around 4pm, load everything into my car, put on a fresh shirt, and walk inside.  The happy herd of park rangers are hanging out.  I'm recognized right away and excitingly fussed over - they inform me that I'm the first to complete the trail alone this year and the first to do so while only camping one night in several years.  They ask for specific trail reports and congratulate me - a perfect end to a perfect trip.  The Crater Lake National Park Rangers just might be the happiest group of people that I've ever met. 

*The Rangers live together in a dormitory inside the park throughout the winter.  I imagine them at night, cutting loose, hosting their own drunken talent shows, dishing out naked night skiing dares, trading relationships like playing cards, living buck wild before returning to college. 








Sunday, February 10, 2013

Bull Gap, Mt. Ashland

Bull Gap is a cross country ski trail that snakes along a ridge just below Mt. Ashland.  The trail is a slow, continuous decent.  Rumor has it, the trail unwinds until emerging as Tolman Road, leading right into town.  This could make for a very entertaining all day skiing/hiking adventure.  

Until then, Bull Gap reminds me of a good sled hill - a fun ride that almost ends too quickly to justify the long, slow climb back.  The view sure helps:






Saturday, February 2, 2013

Emigrant Lake - Ashland, OR

Emigrant Lake is a ten minute drive from downtown Ashland.  Locals treat it like a source of embarrassment - mocking the reservoir for its dirt shores and tacky water park.  I heard someone say something nice about Emigrant Lake once...in regards to tearing it apart on a wakeboard at 40 mph.

For the record, there is plenty of beauty to be found at Emigrant Lake...