Bill willing, some Crater photos are posted

Check out his postjock blog for some photos from our Crater Lake circumnavigation and a really well written post about his thoughts leading into the trip and  subsequent reaction afterwards.  

Photo by Bill Amos

Is it really March 28th?!

Where has this month - this season - gone?  Already the end of March, even though sitting at my window seeing the snow whip down outside, a sunburn on my face, and cold toes it doesn't much feel like April is right around the corner.  

And again it has happened.  My last post was a few weeks ago.  Partly because I've been having a sweet month and not sitting around the computer as much.  So, my approach this time is to go back and post according (or as close as I can get) to the dates things happened.  This means you'll have to scroll down to see previous entries even though you've been checking daily (I take a swig of dark while typing this word) and nothing has been there since the 12th.  Or was it the 12th?  You'd better check...

Crater Lake Ski Circumnavigation

I just typed and deleted no fewer than 14 intros for this post.  This trip was so fantastic I don't know how to lead into it.  Nothing would do it justice.

From the beginning:  Last Saturday I woke up completely surprised by a nasty head cold.  Somewhere in the middle of the night I was awakened mid-dream with a funky nasal taste (graphic?  it should be) and immediately rolled over in hopes that sleeping on my left side would ward off pre-trip illness.  Turns out my left side only breeds it.

I packed deliberately in between huddling under my covers while my body exchanged sweating for shivering as if I were jumping from sauna to snow and back.  But this wasn't the enjoyable kind.  Because of this I was forced to shift our departure time back on Sunday, and thus Bill had to wait around for my sick ass to show up - clutching his skis and wearing his pack probably with his eyes closed picturing us cruising down I-5 and far away from Ptown.

After a 7 hour long drive and some wintry conditions we eventually rolled into the Rim Village at Crater Lake.  A quick bowl of chili and a frigid piss outside the van led us to warm sleeping bags in Bill's built-to-live-in soccer mom van (look for the sticker on the back window).  

The next morning was cold, but clear.  With sun creeping over the elevation to our east we stepped inside the Ranger Station for our backcountry permit.  And then we were off.

For this trip, our two objectives were to ski around the entire lake along the Rim Drive and to try for some turns in an area called Mount Scott.  For these purposes we chose to use our Alpine Touring skis with skins, not the best for cross country travel but would offer us the chance at claiming some higher viewing points (with the descent in mind).  The distance is approximately 31 miles by the road, and the elevation at the highest is almost 9,000 feet.  The road itself hovers around 6,500 feet and the the highest we slept at was 7,700, on a day when we knew Mount Scott lingered just beyond our limited visibility.  

We travelled clockwise around.  On day two we crossed one other group of 5  heading the opposite direction, the only other people we would see until back in the parking lot (only to find out after we had finished that they needed the assistance of a satellite phone and the ski patrol to find their way home).  

Later that day during a break from slogging along I sat on top of my pack with no shirt on.  The sun was lowering but still powerful and warm and my sweaty shoulders and back were thankful.  That night we set up camp while the sun was still out to dry our tent and bags, and Bill and I sat around the pot of melting snow writing in our journals and stretching our legs, ski bootless (felt so nice!).

We fell asleep that night with a slight fear of an expectant cold because of the clear evening.  However we opened our eyes to snow and somewhat high winds.  Or so we thought high winds, turns out the breeze at camp was nothing compared to the gusts along exposed areas of the eastern rim that we would cross later in the day.

When the Rim Drive isn't running directly along the upper contour of the caldera (like it does on the north side) it does a fairly good job of meandering back to overlook the rim whenever features allow.  Such was the case on the east side and it was at these points that Bill and I braced ourselves against some of the highest winds I've ever had to endure on skis and with a pack.  At points I would just stop in a four point stance and simply try to maintain my position.  

It came in waves, and made me feel like an awkward drunk.  I had little control, except when short lulls allowed for hasty movement forward towards anything that blocked the full force of mother nature building strength across the entire openness of Crater Lake.  It blew me over twice.  I screamed into it, my voice lost in the noise from the moment it left my lips.

Visibility was so poor from there on out that when we reached a point where we knew the road existed we decided to hole up for the night on the solace of knowing the road would indeed be near us in the morning.  We were right at the base of Mount Scott.  No turns for us.

The next two days were blue, sunny, and warm.  More stunning views and landscapes.  More slogging along with skins on.  More triumph at each days end.  More delicious hot dinners.  More time for journal writing.  More avalanche bypass routes.  And more miles to put under our belt. 

The last, from the park Headquarters back up to the Rim Village where we had parked was probably the toughest.  Because we knew it was the last and because it was getting hot and the trees were literally raining down on us with widow-maker residue.  

Waiting for us in the parking lot was the van with two 24oz PBR's and a half bag of crackers.  Again, warm sun on our bare shoulders and conversation, we relished in the accomplishment of the previous five days.  I had managed to lose a head cold in the backcountry.  We had managed not to have an epic, though the trip will rank high in my book of adventure.  

For some really amazing pictures from this trip, check out Bill's postjock blog.  He does some good work with the camera and keyboard alike.

My Winter Love Story

The Mt Hood Magazine blog is finally up and running, as far as I can tell at least, and with it is my winter love story that I wrote for their "Straight from the Heart" section a few months back.  I think it reads better than the short blurb on the main mag's site.

"Once when I was in college I took a girlfriend up the shore of Lake Superior to a lodge for a romantic night during a cold winter. Wrapped up on a rug next to the fireplace, we cuddled and nibbled on homemade cookies that she had decorated for our getaway.

Later, dozens of candles illuminated the water of the hot tub and our voices whispered softly for hours. It was comfortable and cozy despite the frigid waves crashing out the front window, and looking into her eyes late that night I knew I loved her."

To read the rest of this story, click HERE.

Backpacking the lower Deschutes River

Tischer and I met friends Erin and Kirk in Hood River on Sunday night for a big cookie and a pint to start our 3 day backpacking trip.  We tucked into a campsite at Deschutes River State Park, where the Duschutes empties into the Columbia River, late that night for a campfire under clear and chilly skies.  Holy cats, the stars!

For whatever reason, we all slept in really late the next morning, waking only upon hearing a park worker fire up a chain saw.  This delayed start to the day would prove to shift our entire "schedule" back for the rest of the trip, though you would hear more laughs about it from us than complaints.  

After shuttling to our trail head 23 miles south of our final destination where we left my truck, the three of us enjoyed lunch in Erin's car at 4 in the afternoon while snow blew hard around us.  It was cold, but still we set out along the old railroad grade that would lead us along the Lower Deschutes River all the way to its mouth.  

We dropped into and climbed out of 4 different drainage's where train trellises no longer spanned across.  We pulled headlamps out when the the scrambling got dark, and we turned them off when the nearly full moon shed its light on our path.

While dinner cooked at our camp that night, Erin put together a masterful fire for our cold fingers and toes, and we passed the flask to warm the rest.  Tischer and I cuddled in my solo while Kirk and Erin made every attempt to ward off the chill next to me, wearing every piece of clothing they had.  

The next day was cold, windy and gray again.  Who said the high desert was warm and friendly this time of year?!  My bad.  Having covered more than we thought the previous day/night, we made our way along the second half of the rail trail, which is maintained as a bike and stock trail.  Simply a matter of cruising the double wide path along the east side of a fast moving body of water.  Not too challenging.

That night we rambled into an old rail car situated alongside the trail.  I've never slept in a train car before.  

Latest from Mt Hood Magazine

The Feb/Mar issue of Mt Hood Magazine is finally published.  Check out www.mthoodmagazine.com to read three stories of mine.  The top two on dining and lodging come straight from my fingertips.  

The third is my winter love story.  While you can read a portion of it, the link to read its entirety on the Magazine's blog isn't working properly.  The story appears a lot different from how I submitted it, for better or for worse, I can't tell yet.

Noon Patrol, Baby.

Mountain Times Column, March 2009

With an unknown arrival time hanging in the night air along with the steam from my tea, I readied for bed with the anticipation of a knock on my door early in the morning. But just as I was crawling under my covers, my phone vibrated with a message: “we’ll be at the cabin by 12:30.”

To read the rest of this story, click HERE (and scroll down a bit).

Here's two for T

Tonight I shave my handles off

That's right, the handle bars are hitchin' a ride out of the cabin via my mach 3 (which doesn't see much action). Tonight I welcome the month of March with a fresh mustache. It'll give the rest of my face a nice chance to breath, soak in this mountain air that I tend to get so much of. Thanks to my friend Max and his festive sounding rendezvous at the Anchor Bar in Superior, WI-where dozens of others will too be greeting the coming month with 'staches-which I caught wind of on Facebook and anxiously plan to "attend" in spirit.

On other notes, I just realized that it's been exactly two weeks since my last post. Hmm, this matter of inconsistency breeds fewer numbers of readers I am sure, but what can I say? Much like phone calls and emails, I am neglectful and preoccupied with things filling the air inches away through my window. A winded way of saying the out of doors.

But don't take it personal, my appreciated family of readers, in the name of playing catch up I offer a quick list below of the happenings here on Mount Hood and in my life over the past 2 weeks. Brief as it may be, it'll have to be what it is: a whiskey induced rant influenced by some loud Van Morrison and encouraged by tired legs after a solid day of planks attached to old ass, packed out ski boots.

That should front load the following nicely. In no particular order, game on.

Two nights ago I received a message from some college friends, whom I haven't seen in three and a half years (since their wedding in Lutsen) informing me they decided to take an impromptu vacation to Mount Hood, and were in fact at that moment, in Welches. This small mountain community happens to be only a few miles down the highway from me. I thought she was bullshitting me for the first few reads of the text. We connected yesterday for snowshoe hikes to Trillium Lake and Mirror Lake, with beers and lunch at the Brewpub in between.

The previous week it dumped snow up here at the rate of last seasons record setting accumulation, heavy but deep early in the week and progressively getting lighter, and still deep, towards the end. I snuck some tree turns in at the Bowl on Wed night, at the far reaching edge of the night lights, and took some fun and messing falls in heavy freshies, loving every moment of getting tossed.

On Thur night, after catching up with a high school buddy and after finding out my friends were near by, I dragged Tischer out into the 2-3 feet of newly fallen snow for a night ski tour out back. Not knowing trail conditions, and guessing I'd be breaking trail most of the way, I left my skinny skis behind and strapped skins onto my Alpine Touring skis. We set out traversing the Crosstown trail and took an uphill turn to follow the Glade trail towards Timberline Lodge. Not far from where the Glade parallels the Alpine trail closely, I took T on a goose chase through the real deep stuff.
No trail, little shelter, just tall trees and the glow of undisturbed white crystals shining under the partially clear sky. Glorious! Keeping a close eye on T and tree wells, we wove our way through the forest for the next 90 minutes, eventually reconnecting with a part of the Crosstown trail. Back to the cabin, Tischer drank a bowl of water and went to bed. I greeted a couple of alumni and enjoyed vegi pad thai with them, then slipped into bed myself.

Hmm, what else?

The previous Thur and Fri, I had Kirk and Julia as visitors from Ptown. Hadn't seen them since before they left for North Carolina a year(?) ago. We boot packed up Tom, Dick & Harry on a blue bird day when no one else was around, taking in a spectacular view of the Cascade Range, including Jefferson, Hood, Rainier, Adams, and St Helens. We also got some serious Dominos and Cribbage time in, along with some fine beverages. Such great company to have in those two! Set my weekend up perfectly.

Speaking of weekends, I spend the day skiing at Meadows with the Ski class on Sat, and split early to head down to Ptown to take a group of student Go-carting. I think it has honestly been at least a decade since I last drove a go-cart. Burritos, Malibu Raceway in Beaverton, and beer at the Basement Pub with my friend Ashley made up my Saturday (perhaps only my third or fourth ever Sat in Ptown since I've worked at that cabin).

Sunday I was hungover. I allowed a 2 hour play session at the dog park for Tischer as a thanks for her patience the night prior, then I took a nap at Seth's house before dinner with Ashley. Afterwards we played trivia at the Basement Pub.

About all that pops into my head for the days preceding this is a noon patrol Bill, his brother-in-law, and I did on President's Day. You can read about it when this month's Mountain Time's comes out in a day or two. Long live the noon patrol.

Probably more to tell, certainly no less. It's 7:33PM. Van has given way to a few well placed Bob Dylan tunes. Time to manipulate my face into a classy looking 'stache. "What the hell is that on your upper lip?"

Dirt.

Missoula on my mind

Just spent the last week playing and making the most of my time hanging out in Missoula.  Skiing, drinking, running, hockey, and breakfast with a good friend that has been a long time coming.  

This shorty is the work of my buddy Pablo.  It's footage from a year ago but of the same place we did some backcountry skiing this past week.  Conditions weren't quite the same, but based on what I've seen so far this season on Hood, it was the best snow of the year for me.  

 

A visit from Westy

My good friend Andy from Seattle came to stay with me on The Mountain this weekend. A Bit of fresh snow graced us again finally, presenting a beautiful white landscape instead of the spring like crud of the last weeks.

We rode at Meadows both Friday and Saturday, under sunny and clear skies with great visibility throughout the Cascades. Westy also brought with him a video camera and with his help I was able to get some good snowshoe running footage, which I hope to arrange into a short minute or two long film. He also took some stills of me and T trekking through the woods out at Clear Lake.

On Sunday, after a pint of rootbeer at Mt Hood Brewing, we departed in opposite directions, Westy towards Seattle and me towards Missoula.

The road beckons. Driving around Hood was the most enjoyable part of my trip back to MT-I had a clear night sky with a bright moon casting an inspiring light on my surrounding as I wove through the forest.

6 More Weeks of Winter!

Groundhogs Day has already come and went, and according to long living Punxsutawney Phil we have another month and a half of winter ahead of us. You won't really see any complaints out of me considering that of the last month I have sat next to an open and sun-coated window much more often than I've been hit with snow flakes falling from the sky.

Even now, as I hastily throw this post up literally with one ski boot out the door, the thermometer already read 50+ degrees on the front porch, in the shade. The last few days have been the same. Spring skiing again. Man I need some fresh wax. The difference between the snow exposed to the sun and covered in shade is enough to nearly throw me into a face plant if I am going fast enough.

On the bright side, with pun absolutely intended, these warm and sunny days shower me with ample motivation-alongside with the upcoming snowshoe national race and a half marathon in April. And Tischer is happy for it.

Missoula in less than a week!!

XDog Events 8k Snowshoe footage

This was my qualifier for Nationals.  Watch me creep by the camera at around 1 min 30 seconds still with the herd.  Looking towards a great race on March 8 back at White River!!  Bring it.

Brothers Will Reunite!!

This past weekend was a whirlwind of cramming 5 grown dudes into the Red Ranger, hitting the trifecta of ski resorts on Hood (Skibowl, T-line & Meadows), an 8k snowshoe race, pitchers of beer and a tall stack of shot glasses.  Starting midday on Friday, both of my brothers trickled into the state of Oregon each with a buddy.

We headed up to The Mountain on Friday evening in time for some runs at the bowl.  After which we watched a drunken romance at Charlies, and later played pool at the Rat. Then after a few hours of sleep we spent the day riding on the first snow in weeks at Timberline.  

On Sunday morning I dropped the boys off at Meadows while I participated in my first snowshoe race. Then I rejoined them for a pasta lunch in the parking lot and carved up new snow again the rest of the day.

We ended up in P-town on Sunday evening at a hotel near the airport where we ate chicken wings and tried to finish a case of beer.  They all boarded a plane Monday morning and I enjoyed a hearty and free continental breakfast where I ate for 5, even though I was alone.

Good times indeed.  I love those boys.

White River 8k Snowshoe race

Today I competed in my first snowshoe race. The course followed the White River in a lollipop route. With a few inches of much needed fresh snow on top and temps in the low 20's, the conditions were great for running. About a 140 participants showed between the 4k and 8k.

My goal was to maintain at least a heart rate above 170, and after finishing the 5.12 mile course in just a hair under 45 minutes, my average was 179 beats per minute. I had a great time running it. A couple steep hills, some rolling hills and lots of trees and views. I was pleased with how I felt throughout the race, saving almost a little too much for the last mile to the finish. I was cranking 194 beats over that last push.

I am hoping to qualify and compete in the national race which is nearly the same course, though a 10k, at the White River this coming March. Otherwise they have a citizen 5k race too.

Such a sweet competition. I am hooked! You can check out my final stats and rankings and also scroll through lots of photos taken along the course.

A clear night on Clear Lake

I spent the last two nights with a small group of Reed students covering the basics of snow camping. We met and organized personal gear on campus on Tuesday and then headed up to the cabin for an evening of prep and discussion where we built pulks, packed food, and finalized our game plan.

6 of us total arrived at the Clear Lake SnoPark on highway 26 and loaded our gear into day packs and 3 pulks for pulling.  We walked the snow packed road into the lake for about a mile and then headed across the ice towards the Southwest arm of the man-made lake. The ice was in perfect condition for skating, smooth and a fine dusting of snow from the frosty night 

before--if only we had skates!

Picking a camp that was tucked back from the shore and in the shelter of the forest, we dug out a kitchen and gathering place, then pitched tents and dug front "patios" in our respective vestibules.  We spent the day hiking and gathering fire wood. 

That night we stayed warm in front of a toasty blaze with steaming drinks in hand and feasted on Cheddar Broccoli elbow macaroni soup.

Tischer had a blast following each of us around camp and hunkered down next to us when we gathered for dinner and a fire.  Being the freeze baby that she is, I made her a sleeping bag from an old bag I found in the woods this past fall.  She crawls in very willingly and I tuck a fleece blanket around her for added warmth.  There we sat for much of the night, and just before bed meandered down to the frozen lake to view the half cloudless sky and pick out familiar constellations.

Inside my two layered sleeping bags I slept like a great dream.  Mostly because Tischer did too. She was warm and comfortable laying next to me on her own pad, and I was relieved at the success of her first use of the sleeping bag. Pleased with her for using it and pleased with my idea and construction. This opens up a whole new list of possible trips for her and I.

The next morning we took our time getting going, eventually making the trek out under a bright sun.  Grilled cheese and tomato soup for lunch back at the cabin and a mug of hot tang as I drove us back to Ptown facing the setting sun.  

What a beautiful experience winter camping is.  I'm glad Tischer got to see it too.

The Mountain always leads

I went to an Avalanche 101 presentation tonight at the museum in Govy.  The FS co-sponsored it and Roland Emetaz from the Northwest Weather and Avalanche Center presented.  I have had a bit of informal avy training over the last few years, some of it covering general knowledge, and some specific to the Pac NW.  

For the purpose of the lecture (and subsequent examples), I was bestowed the honor of stereotypical backcountry user most likely to get caught in an avy. Some of my characteristics...approx. 32 years old (I was closest), male, skier, ego driven, complacent, "it won't happen to me" mentality, and the "I gotta get first tracks!!!!" motivation-which often has me leaving my brain and observation skills at the trailhead.

From the presentation I give you a handful of thoughts pertaining to avalanche's:

Roland started off the presentation by stating that "when you dance with the mountains, the mountains always lead."  It reminded me of a post I made for Alfresco Bum a couple weeks ago.

Technology is cool, experience is better.

64% of back country slide fatalities occur on blue sky days (maybe specific to the Cascades?)

70% of those buried in a slide die

75% of people caught in a slide have had some training/education regarding avy's

75% of people who die in an avalanche perish from suffocation, 24% from trauma (like getting wrapped around a tree, etc.)

The optimal slope angle for an avalanche to occur is 38 degrees, 30-45 being the range of highest risk

back country snowmobilers and skiers compete for the highest avalanche fatality rates

Food for thought for anyone venturing out of the front country.  Use your head and trust your gut.  Those in the Northwest, check www.nwac.us for current snow avalanche info.

Spring Skiing

Yeah, but it's early January!  The last two days have been hanging around 50 degrees with a blue sky overhead and the sun blazing down.  I carved up Mt Hood Meadows on both days, edging through slush, corn, and sometimes ice in the shade.  The way down was refreshing, and thankfully the lift lines weren't really lines at all. Really just a coral that slowed us down enough to catch the lift back up.  Standing in the sun I would start to sweat, and on the lifts the breeze-though strong-was warm.

This current Wy'east climate a huge contrast to the -40 windchills my Minnesota friends have out their doors right now.  That's almost a 100 degree difference!

Crazy as it is, I'll never complain to see the sun, especially living on Mount Hood.  What I fear I need to brace for though is when winter returns.  The forecast is promising this spring weather through the weekend so I've got a week to work on my goggle tan.  After that, hopefully just fresh snow without any rain...

The List

I spent this afternoon at the Ford dealership in Sandy waiting for the Red Ranger to get her teeth cleaned.  In addition to getting caught up local TV news, I also read a story about the worlds fascination with list-making.  You know, other than the 10 Commandments, lists have really started serving as an organizational tool more recently.  You see lists everywhere-top 10's being the most famous.  

I closed the magazine and looked at the scrap of paper on my lap. Yes, I am no different.   And so, in the spirit of list making, here is my list of things I need or want to accomplish in the next 5 days, compiled at Suburban Ford Inc of Sandy, OR.  

Roughly:

-make a sleeping bag for Tischer (sew an old bag I found in the woods into 2 smaller versions)

-resize a shirt (sewing machine)

-resize a pair of pants (sewing machine)

-finish my winter love story, romantic lodging and dining stories for Mt Hood Magazine

-write an Alfresco Bum post (or two)

-finish design for free standing bouldering cave 

-5 mile run in portland with T

-30+ min snowshoe run by this weekend at 75%

-skijor with T once

-ski (if the rain stops-I don't ski in rain)

-finish Reed winter camping trip logistics

-finish purpose statement for Superior Dreams

-drink 3 Hamm's

-do push ups while watching Frasier episodes

 

January Column in The MT

With the smell of a bonfire wafting in the night air and Tischer pulling on her leash, I stood on the Loop Road through Government Camp staring up at a tall conifer draped in colored lights. It looked to me like someone, with a hot tottie in one hand, had loaded a cannon with strands of various colored lights and aimed it at the tree.

I have never seen a more random array of lights and yet the display seemingly fits this village perfectly.

To read the rest of my column click HERE.