Saturday, June 26, 2010

Project 365, Days 176 and 177: Well, at least it wasn't raining

It seems that every time we come to Portland, we manage to get ourselves into situations that involve our lives flashing before our eyes. Last time it was riding rental bikes over a bridge with cars whizzing past us at 45 miles per hour on one side and a very, very long drop into the Willamette River on the other, separated only by a short handrail and a bike path that was approximately 18 inches wide, interrupted periodically by light posts and by runners who did not understand the concept of “right-of-way.” This time was just as bad.

Adam had a rough day at work yesterday, so I suggested that we devote today to hiking because I knew he wanted to try to do that on this trip. He reserved a Zipcar and we went to the bookstore last night to research possible hikes.

We found a book called 60 Hikes within 60 Miles: Portland, which has lots of great information in it. After considering a few options, we settled on the roughly nine-mile Burnt Lake trail and packed our backpacks with plenty of water and snacks.

This morning, we went to the hotel lobby and ate a big breakfast before picking up the car. We drove about 60 miles east to get to the mountains, but our adventure really began when we turned onto a gravel road that was riddled with enormous potholes to get to the trailhead. We weren’t sure whether our little Scion xD would make it, but it did, and soon we had parked and started out on the trail.

The first part of the trail was nice and easy, although it was uphill the entire way, so we were getting a pretty good workout from the very beginning. After about 2.5 miles we reached a switchbach, which was where our guidebook said groups with pets or children should turn around and head back. I suppose that should have been our first hint, but we were determined to make it to the end of the trail, all the way to the lake and possibly even higher to get some good views. Unfortunately, those plans were soon foiled.

I have a slight problem with heights, which you might say would be a good reason not to hike on mountains, but usually I can talk myself out of my nerves. I started feeling a little woozy immediately after the switchback, where the trail became just a narrow, flattened strip jutting out of an otherwise pretty sheer dropoff, but at that point I was still able to successfully convince myself to keep going. About three miles from the beginning of the trail, however, we reached a new challenge.

The trail had been getting progressively rougher and narrower, to the point that in some spots, I could not have stood with my feet next to each other. This was nerve-wracking enough, but then I turned a corner to see this:

Yikes! Then, a few yards after this, I realized that I could not see where the trail went.

Adam worked his way around me--at this point, I was so panicked that I literally could not move--to check out the situation. When he returned, he told me that the only way to get to the rest of the trail was to crawl over a rock that was jutting out of the side of the mountain and was sloping slightly downward toward the ravine.

At that point, I almost started hyperventilating. My legs were shaking, which made the trail situation even worse; there was nothing to hold on to; and I didn't think I could talk myself into either going on or turning around and heading back over the somewhat treacherous ground we'd already covered. I even started wondering if our new AAA membership would cover mountainside rescue! Finally, with Adam's encouragement, I sort of sat down and scooted over the worst part, and Adam was kind enough to document it:

I'm pretty sure I was actually a quivering pile of goo at this point, so Adam's camera must be magic. Can you SEE that dropoff to my left?! I don't actually remember, but Adam assures me that from where we were standing on the ledge, the bottom of that ravine was not visible.

Once we got back on (relatively) solid ground, the day went a whole lot better. We had some good pizza at Government Camp (seriously, that's the name of a town); checked out Timberline Lodge, which was built during the Depression and is as high as you can go on Mount Hood; and took another, much flatter and easier, hike around Trillium Lake. Here are a few more pictures from the day:

Adam sitting in a tree at Trillium Lake

Timberline Lodge and Mount Hood

Trillium Lake and Mount Hood

Oh, and the problematic part of the trail? When we got home, Adam did some research and found a warning about it on the Forest Service website. The moral of the story? Next time we go hiking, we'll check the Forest Service website first!

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