Section 19 - Crater Lake to Willamette Pass
August 6
26 miles. It was a cold, wet day but Crater Lake was worth
the suffering. It's truly one of the great wonders of
the world.
Brian and I packed up under damp, gray skies this morning
and headed for Crater Rim, via the campground store. It
was a large coffee and muffin kind of day and the store
was happy to oblige. Warm and fortified, we headed up
the trail. Brian fell behind but I reached Crater Rim
in the blowing rain and fog. I then decided that it was
also a hot chocolate kind of day and went to Crater Rim
Village for a cup. Warm and buzzing from too much caffeine,
I set out again.
Crater Rim is not officially on the PCT-- why, I don't
know-- but all PCTers hike it anyway. Crater Rim Drive
intersects the official trail about 10 miles around the
rim and down so that's where I went. It was raining and
in the 40s but the views were spectacular. Crater Lake,
at over 1,900 feet deep, is the deepest lake in the United
States. Compared to Lake Baikal in Siberia, at well over
5,000 feet deep, it's a relative wading pool. However,
Crater Lake is absolutely breathtaking and a privilege
to behold. The blue-green water, red-gray rim walls, white
snowdrifts, wizard island, and today's storm clouds combined
to make an unforgettable sight, I'm just glad I wasn't
around when 12,000 foot Mt. Mazama blew up to form today's
7,000-foot Crater Lake. That explosion makes the 1980
eruption of Mt. St. Helens seem like a pop gun by comparison.
I left Crater Rim and rejoined the PCT in a lodgepole
pine forest. Ten miles later I crossed Highway 138 and
left the national park behind. Crater Lake is a special
place and well-worth a return visit.
I soon entered Mt. Thielsen Wilderness and am camped
tonight on the side of the snowy mountain. It's raining
but I'm dry in my tent. I'm really glad now that I purchased
a new sleeping bag stuffsack in Ashland. My other one
was shredded and if I still had it I'd be in a wet bag
tonight.
August 7
28 miles. Another day of Oregon liquid sunshine. A little
too much liquid and not enough sunshine for my taste.
It rained hard all last night but I survived warm and
dry. It was the first serious test of my tarptent shelter
and I'm happy with the results. Thankfully, the rain stopped
just before I got up and I packed up without getting soaked.
I traversed the Mt. Thielsen Wilderness today. I never
saw the mountain, the views back toward crater lake, or
any of the surrounding lakes and forests. Between the
rain, fog, and my flapping purple poncho I saw little
except snowbanks and intermittent trail. It's too bad
because I'm sure I missed out.
I'm camped tonight on a saddle at 7,000 feet, about 4
miles north of Windigo Pass. There are huge snowbanks
a few feet away but this spot is clear, albeit wet. It's
cold, raining steadily, and the fog is pea-soup thick.
I lit a small candle--one I've carried since Campo--and
I'm surprisingly cozy in my tent.
New Hampshire Brian walked by a few minutes ago, drenched
and miserable. His tent leaked last night and his stuff
is soaked. I feel sorry for him but there's nothing I
can do. I'm much more fortunate. Except for my soaked
shoes and socks, my stuff is a little damp but quite serviceable.
Thank God for my poncho. My pack towers over my head and
with a poncho I must look like the Purple Hunchback of
Oregon.
It's not enjoyable hiking in this weather but I'll survive.
Tomorrow I hike to Odelle Lake, near Willamette Pass,
and pick up a resupply box. There's a small resort there
and I'm hopeful for at least a meal and a chance to dry
off.
August 8
27 miles. A snowy hike but, thankfully, dry day. I made
it to Shelter Cove Resort for my package pickup--complete
with NEW SHOES!--and grazed at the general store before
closing time.
The storm broke during the night and I woke to a damp
but clear sky. Ground fog enveloped the saturated snow
and water dripped from the hemlock trees. I packed my
soaked tent, my hands numb from the icy water, and headed
down the mountain, thankful for dry weather.
The descent to Summit Lake was very snowy and I lost
the trail several times. There were still snowbanks in
the trees at lake level--elevation
5,500 feet. Fortunately, the sun was shining and I stopped
at a lakeside campground to dry my wet gear and eat. Several
soggy families were packing up after their weekend camping
trip and the teenage girls were arguing over who got to
wash their hair first when they got home. I smiled. I'm
a long way from that state of mind.
I left Summit Lake just as the Norwegians arrived and
soon caught up with Brian floundering in the snow on the
side of Diamond Peak. The trail was buried and we hiked
for almost two hours before we found it again. The melt
is at least a month behind normal here but in another
week much of the snow will be gone.
Unlike the last couple of days, I had good views of the
terrain today. I looked up to see Diamond Peak, looked
back to see pointed, snowy Mt. Thielsen and looked ahead
to see the high peaks of the Three Sisters Wilderness.
Misty clouds draped the highest summits and smaller volcanic
cones rose in every direction. Dozens of emerald green
lakes, many of them unnamed, dotted the broad valleys.
Deep green forests carpeted everything else.
I'm camped tonight at the resort campground with New
Hampshire Brian and the two Norwegians. A thunderstorm
rolled through just as I settled into my bag but lasted
only a few minutes before moving on. I'm dry, warm, and
reasonably full. Tomorrow I head out for the three-day
walk to McKenzie Pass and a day off in Bend/Black Butte.
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