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.