Approaching Hood

Day 121-August 12th
Destination: Barlow Pass
Miles: 22.5 (plus 0.2 off trail miles)
Cumulative Miles: 1778

We planned on having a shorter day today (less than 25 miles), and so chose to sleep in a bit. We got up around 6:30 and didn't speed to break camp. The casualness of it all gave that sort of enjoyment of camping that is rarely seen in the regular "hurried" lifestyle of a thru-hiker. Thru-hiking is not for people who love camping. Thru-hiking is for people who love walking.

Nevertheless, we are still thru-hikers, and we can't "dally" long, so we were moving just before 8am. The day started with an easy descent down to Timothy Lake, an easy get away for "urbanites." While it is always a good thing for people to get out to nature, such public easily accessed retreat locations are disheartening. We have spent several splendid months in serene clean locations, as this place once was undoubtedly. Now the trails are littered (albeit sparsely) with signs of humans. Countless piles of used toilet paper, and even a dirty diaper, were strewn about. Wrappers from granola bars glinted a sad reflection of our standard lack of care for our natural environment. The closer we are to "civilization" the less "civilized" we seem.

It wasn't a bad experience, riddled with trash, but rather a sad experience with the occasional disruption to an otherwise enjoyable walk. Just past Timothy Lake we took a small detour to Little Crater Lake, an artesian spring 45 feet deep, and about as wide across. The crystal blue water was perfectly clear, and was so distinctly blue those who walked past were heard mumbling "how does it get SO blue?"

We took lunch at Little Crater Lake and then hiked eleven miles further through relatively viewless terrain. Apricots noted how disappointing it was to be walking through Mt. Hood National Forest and yet never seeing the mountain. Three miles before Wapanita Pass we were given one of our first clear views of "our homeside mountain."

Once down to Wapanita Pass we ate a dinner, as we were starving and low on energy. Five and a half miles later we arrived at our destination for the day, Barlow Pass. We knew we wouldn't be able to do laundry at Timberline Lodge, so we opted to hitch five miles down to Government Camp. Once we arrived, we found a laundromat where we did our laundry. We sat and ate a cheeseburger in the laundromat, commenting on the rather surreal nature of such an experience.

Afterwards, we tried to hitch back to the trail, but the sun had nearly set and we were unsuccessful. We walked back into Government Camp to try and find a hotel room (so we could shower), but the town was all booked up. We wandered to the edge of town and found a pseudo-hidden flat camp spot behind an abandoned building.

Tomorrow we will hitch back up to Barlow Pass and hike the final five miles to Timberline Lodge where we'll meet up with "DK", Psycho's old roommate.

Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile

A Casual Day in The Long Green Tunnel

Day 120-August 11th
Destination: MM 2080ish
Miles: 26.5
Cumulative Miles: 1755.5

We woke up this morning and returned to the Olallie Lake General Store for morning coffee and relaxation. We sat on the porch drinking our coffee and looking out at the misty lake. Small tendrils of lake water clouds misted upward, entangling themselves around the boats of the early rising fishermen. Mt. Jefferson hid behind the clouds, and only showed partially, briefly, as we were leaving.

Our hike was casual, with more frequent than usual breaks, as we were making good time. We stopped for lunch after only 9.5 miles, and dinner after 20. We filtered water out of two simple streams at both stops. The trail wandered viewlessly through what many call "The Long Green Corridor" or "The Green Tunnel". Either are less than fond terms for the Oregon stretch of the PCT. While the trail has it's scenic parts in Oregon, some only remember these mind-numbing types of days, and so look negatively upon the state as a whole.

The highlight of our day came between lunch and dinner. Psycho heard a scurrying scratching sound to his right. Typically this means a bird, or more commonly a squirrel or chipmunk. This time, however, it was much too loud. He looked toward the sound and saw a baby cub bear climbing quickly up a tree. Psycho pointed and Apricots noticed as well. Not wanting to find ourselves splitting a mother from her cub, we quickly looked around and made noise as we hiked further on.

We went 2 miles further than we had planned on as the miles were easy, and pulled in to a relaxing evening in the tent. Joint foot rubs. :)

Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile

Race to a Beer

Day 119-August 10th
Destination: Olallie Lake
Miles: 26.5 (Plus 0.2 off trail miles)
Cumulative Miles: 1727.5

We planned on getting to Olallie Lake today, a mere 26.5 miles away. We did get there, but it took longer than expected, and we were fearful we would not make it before the store closed.

Our hike started with finishing the suggested detour and returning to the PCT official route. At the bottom of our descent, we reached a beautiful creek. The valley floor was pretty flat, as such the creek spread out and meandered; a different course every season, for sure.

After climbing back to the PCT, we made our way to Jefferson Park. Along the way we met three older women who wore more weight in perfume than in clothing. They told us the mosquitoes were nothing shy of furiously abundant, and that we needed to cover every inch of our skin to preserve our sanity. Their perfume was so thick, they might as well be wearing flashing neon signs that said "Free Blood."

The mosquitoes turned out to be small and pesky, and were really only bothersome because they kept trying to fly into food while we ate. After lunch we climbed out of the beautiful flat and flowered pastures of Jefferson Park, up to a high point Psycho recalls as being one of the most scenic on the trail. Unfortunately clouds were covering much of the land, and we had limited obscured views of Mt. Jefferson because of it.

After our somewhat snowy descent down the hill, we checked our time and mileage to the Olallie Lake General Store. There was little to no chance of us making it by 8pm, yet there was the potential that the store may be open later, and we could grab a bite to eat or a beer. We put our motor boots on and charged ahead at a lightening pace.

As we walk/ran up to the store, we saw the lights were off, put the sign said "Open." We found the door locked, and almost walked away disheartened. Then the store owner walked out of her neighboring cabin and asked if we needed anything.

Success! A 26.5 mile walk with fantastic views, and tasty cookies at the end to accompany our Coors Light. "The Silver Bullet never tasted so good."

----

As it was said, a second mosquito poem would be presented. Hopefully our faithful readers are submitting their own mosquito poems.

---
The Mosquito

by D.H. Lawrence

 

When did you start your tricks,

Monsieur?

 

What do you stand on such high legs for?

Why this length of shredded shank,

You exaltation?

Listen Here

{mosgoogle}

Is it so that you shall lift your centre of gravity upwards

And weigh no more than air as you alight upon me,

Stand upon me weightless, you phantom?

 

I heard a woman call you the Winged Victory

In sluggish Venice.

You turn your head towards your tail, and smile.

 

How can you put so much devilry

Into that translucent phantom shred

Of a frail corpus?

 

Queer, with your thin wings and your streaming legs

How you sail like a heron, or a dull clot of air,

A nothingness.

 

Yet what an aura surrounds you;

Your evil little aura, prowling, and casting a numbness on my mind.

 

That is your trick, your bit of filthy magic:

Invisibility, and the anæsthetic power

To deaden my attention in your direction.

But I know your game now, streaky sorcerer.

 

Queer, how you stalk and prowl the air

In circles and evasions, enveloping me,

Ghoul on wings

Winged Victory.

 

Settle, and stand on long thin shanks

Eyeing me sideways, and cunningly conscious that I am aware,

You speck.

 

I hate the way you lurch off sideways into air

Having read my thoughts against you.

 

Come then, let us play at unawares,

And see who wins in this sly game of bluff,

Man or mosquito.

 

You don't know that I exist, and I don't know that you exist.

Now then!

 

It is your trump,

It is your hateful little trump,

You pointed fiend,

Which shakes my sudden blood to hatred of you :

It is your small, high, hateful bugle in my ear.

 

Why do you do it?

Surely it is bad policy.

 

They say you can't help it.

 

If that is so, then I believe a little in Providence protecting the innocent.

But it sounds so amazingly like a slogan,

A yell of triumph as you snatch my scalp.

 

Blood, red blood

Super-magical

Forbidden liquor.

 

I behold you stand

For a second enspasmed in oblivion,

Obscenely estasied

Sucking live blood,

My blood.

 

Such silence, such suspended transport,

Such gorging,

Such obscenity of trespass.

 

You stagger

As well as you may.

Only your accursed hairy frailty,

Your own imponderable weightlessness

Saves you, wafts you away on the very draught my anger makes in its snatching.

 

Away with a pæan of derision,

You winged blood-drop.

 

Can I not overtake you?

Are you one too many for me,

Winged Victory?

Am I not mosquito enough to out-mosquito you?

 

Queer, what a big stain my sucked blood makes

Beside the infinitesimal faint smear of you!

Queer, what a dim dark smudge you have disappeared into!

Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile

A Gray Day

Day 118-August 9th
Destination: Bingham Ridge
Miles: 25
Cumulative Miles: 1701

When we woke this morning the clouds had rolled in, and mired us in their gloom. We lingered in our sleeping bags, not wanting to step out into the cool moist air. With our surplus of food we were able to eat a bigger breakfast to help us face the day, and when we finally stepped out, we could tell the sun would burn off the clouds shortly after we began hiking.

They did.

After the first couple hours of hiking, we hit Santiam Pass, where "Catdog" had left a cooler with Beer, Soda, and cookies. The beer was all gone, but we enjoyed sodas and homemade cookies from this trail angel, who hiked the Appalachian Trail not long ago.

Then we continued our northward walk. We (regrettably) chose a suggested alternate route which is roughly the same distance as the PCT, but passes by more lakes and water sources. Unfortunately, this also meant a bit more mosquitoes. Sadly most of the lakes were fairly unremarkable, and so the detour seemed like an unfair trade for the possible ridge line vistas we missed.

In the afternoon, the clouds returned, putting a gray fog across our walk. The burnt forest mixed with an overcast setting sun created a somewhat gloomy end to our day. We were tired and climbing with extra water (for dry camping). The absence of sun depleted our energy and made for a difficult last couple of miles.

At last we arrived at something somewhat flat, and set up camp.

On a less grey note: 1700 miles.
Woohoo!! 1700 miles.

Psycho's brother submitted two mosquito poems, so we'll share one today and one tomorrow. It would be fun to have our readers write their own mosquito poems and post them as a comment on our blog. Visit:
http://northboundheartsong.blogspot.com

And add your own mosquito poem.
:)

---
Here's one to inspire you:

Familiar whine in my ear

You settle on my forearm

Prepare to pierce my skin with your proboscis

I raise my had to strike

 

Wait!

What if I let you complete the cycle?

You might feed the songbird

Who cheers my day.

 

Your larvae might feed the minnow

Who feeds the fingerling

Who feeds the pike

Who feeds me.

 

You might be a meal

For the brown bat

Whose guano fertilizes

Tomatoes for my salad.

 

SMACK!

But not today.

 

Deborah K. Frontiera

Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile

Lava Rocks!! Part Deux

Day 117-August 8th
Destination: Big Lake Youth Camp
Miles: 11.5 (Plus 0.8 off trail miles)
Cumulative Miles: 1676

We planned to get out of Bend by 10, but the town demons held us longer...and by demons it is meant the allure of sleeping in and milling about slowly, free of mosquitoes. We left town closer to noon. Our faithful trail angel, Lloyd Gust (who picked us up yesterday), drove us back to the trail. He was even kind enough to drive us to the grocery store so we could buy a few resupply items.

Once back to the trail head, we helped Lloyd restock the water cache he maintains there. He also maintains one back at Windigo Pass. Then we hit the trail running, stopping after one-eighth of a mile to make a lunch. Then we really hit the trail, but not running. It was semi-slow movement, as the trail was very rocky. We were crossing a massive lava field near the Belknap Crater.

Before we walked on the moon, we believed the surface of the moon was much like the surface of lava fields we were walking across. NASA brought their astronauts to this area to have them try walking the surface in their space suits. The first paved trail, now serving the D. Wright Observatory, was built for the media to use while filming the Astronauts testing their gear in the field.

Crossing the barren lava fields, where only a few trees ever took hold, we met several day hikers exploring the desolate landscape. Once we passed the lava fields, the number of day hikers dropped to zero, and we had returned to our own more familiar people-less hiking. Yet the views were still magnificent as we approached Mt. Washington.

Washington had a pointy conical dome with a red scarf wrapped several hundred feet below the summit. We walked along it's foothills, passing a trail crew constructing a new trail. The existing trail was rutted heavily from overuse, and was causing a disruption in the natural flow of water. The crew was working to reset the hydrological state of the environment we were enjoying.

A few miles later we arrived at the trail junction to Big Lake Youth Camp, a Seventh Day Adventist Church Camp, which offers showers, laundry, and food service to thru-hikers. They provided us with soap, shampoo, and a giant fluffy towel. After setting up camp we hit the showers. We passed on the dinner (and breakfast) as we were carrying a surplus of food.

After the shower, we sat on the lake shore and watched the sun set beautifully while we finished our dinner. Then we retired to our tent. Back to big miles tomorrow.

Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile

1000 Mile Countdown

Day 116-August 7th
Destination: Bend via McKenzie Pass
Miles: 24
Cumulative Miles: 1664.5

We were pretty beat after two consecutive long days, and so we decided to sleep in until 6:45am. It seems a bit of a joke that sleeping in still means that we're up before seven, but we'd be hard pressed to remember the last time we slept past seven (save for town days).

It was a stunning day from start to finish, perhaps one of the most beautiful we have experienced. In a couple short miles we reached a vast flat plain on volcanic scree and wildflowers at the base of South Sister. The mountain loomed to our right with its red cap hidden between large snowy glaciers.

Middle Sister hid just behind it, and was our company as we hiked northward into obsidian covered trail. Everywhere we looked small flecks of obsidian glinted reflections of the afternoon sun. We took lunch at Obsidian Falls, a small waterfall which cascaded over a hillside riddled with larger chunks of obsidian. Over the rock outcroppings we could see the craggy peaks of North Sister, the most technical of the three summits.

As we passed by North Sister, we dropped down into a small meadow filled with rich purple lupines. The purple meadow had highlights of rich magenta red Indian Paintbrushes, and another vibrant yellow flower. As we wound our way through the wildflowers we climbed around Yapoah Crater, which fed the lava flows we finished our day with.

For roughly ten miles we walked over and around vast fields of lava flow. The hillside was all but covered in endless mounds of lava rock. Our trek took us up a hillside where climbing was difficult because our feet would slide down a couple inches for every step we took. Despite our struggle to walk smoothly, the terrain was too beautiful to not enjoy our hiking.

Despite sleeping in, we still hit a highway (24 miles away) and got ourselves into town and a hotel before sunset...and inevitably big juicy burgers and hoppy beer shortly thereafter to celebrate the 1000 mile countdown. It's odd how we celebrate everything. 100 miles, 500 miles, 1000 miles, 1500 miles... 10%, 25%, 33%, 50%....suppose we do it as some sort of reward or motivation to encourage us along. If we didn't congratulate ourselves regularly, we might not feel like we were making any progress.

Our 1000 mile countdown reward consisted of a hotel, a big burger, and some fine Oregon Microbrews on tap.

Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile

Dr. StrangeLake (or how I learned to love the DEET)

Day 115-August 6th
Destination: Sisters Mirror Lake
Miles: 28
Cumulative Miles: 1640.5

We woke to a chilly morning and a tent damp with condensation. It has been many weeks since the morning was this cold, and rarely have we had as much moisture on our tent as we did this morning. As such, we sluggishly moved quickly; meaning we moved slow until we were out of our sleeping bags, and quickly after that.

Today's hike was about the lakes, ponds, bogs, and tarns we passed along our walk. Irish lake and the next couple lakes were lost in a shroud of thick morning mist rising from their glassy surfaces. They held a certain eerie witch-like charm to them.

About one mile later we passed a small pond, made black by the decaying vegetation that had fallen into it. The surface cast a perfect reflection of the trees across the way from us. It was as if we were looking at black glass, or perhaps fully reflective obsidian.

The remainder of the day was filled with small lakes ranging from crystal clear to blue, green, brown, and black. Often the smaller ones were freckled with Lily Pads, while the larger ones caught the wind on their surface and cast a thousand shifting constellations across their surface.

Near the end of our day we passed two Sobo thru-hikers. Shortly after that we passed another, bringing the total to four and a half (the half is from one Sobo hiker who skipped 75% of Washington). We had a nice chat with the couple about conditions ahead, and behind. Given our plan to return to Echo Lake and hike south once we get to Canada, it is quite likely we will slip into the Sobo herd of hikers, small though they are.

The surplus of lakes surprisingly did not create a surplus of mosquitoes, and we were able to enjoy most of the day free of head nets. Sadly though, our camp was overrun with the whining mini-beasts. We quickly put up our tent and dove in for the night.
Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile

A Thousand Splendid Toothpicks

Day 114-August 5th
Destination: Irish Lake
Miles: 25.5 (plus 1.5 off trail miles)
Cumulative Miles: 1612.5

Twenty Seven miles today, and we didn't even start until just past 9am. We've done 27 before (if memory serves correctly), but not on a day with such a late start.

Our hike took us up past the Rosary Lakes, which shown like gems in the hill when we had climbed above them. We continued along through relatively simple terrain, and generally unscenic after we had gained enough distance from the Rosary Lakes.

The real joy of hiking through a forest without views is in training your eyes to see the subtle changes, training yourself to "see the forest for the trees." Throughout the hike, we have seen more than our fare share of blowdowns. What is amazing is the variety of ways that trees "combat nature."

Some trees are like the green stick that is too large for the campfire. When you try and break the stick into smaller pieces to fit in the fire, you end up twisting the fibers, never quite breaking the stick. The stick is broken, yet still one piece connected by string-cheese-like strands of wood tissue. Storms pass through knocking several trees down in this stingy fibrous fashion.

Still other times the wind knocks a tree down that has withstood storms for decades or even centuries. Wind combined with saturated soil allows the tree to rip right out of the ground, tearing it's own roots as it lifts the earth in its crashing end. This generally is the case with the larger trees, and often results large pits in the ground next to the torn roots.

Once we saw a tree that we couldn't figure out what happened to it. The small tree, maybe 6-10 inches in diameter was split down the core. It's sapwood split and splayed outward, drooping like taffy on a hot summer day. Perhaps the tree was struck by lightening and exploded in some fashion, rendering the pealed banana look to it, but there were no signs of burns caused by lightening.

Lightening is a powerful force. A single storm can ignite 40 plus wildfires, as was the case with the Hat Creek Rim. This evening we walked through the remnants of a burn zone. The forest had begun it's restoration process; Fireweed was blooming, resetting the soil pH to something more hospitable to the wider diversity of a typical forest. The rain had soaked most of the blackened wood ash into the soil, leaving a burn zone which was largely clear of black charred wood.

The bark had fallen off all the trees, and the sun and weather had smoothed over and bleached all the tree trunks. The fire burned the limbs from the trees, and wind has taken the tops of most the trees. What is left behind is a shadeless forest of large white toothpicks. The afternoon wind blew through the desolate area, creating an eerie, yet pleasant, whistling as it passed through the trees.

Over time and miles, and countless opportunities to "stare off into space" does one start to notice the "forest for the trees." We passed a burned out tree stump. The hollow place, where the heartwood once lay, held a sapling. The sapling had it's own fence to protect it, the hollowed out stump. Everything anew.

The mosquitoes were not as bad today. In fact the only times they were bothersome was during lunch, at a small pond, and at camp tonight. This is to be expected when near bodies of water, especially this time of year. So in light of our recent mosquito surplus, we will share a poem passed to us by Apricots' mother.

Taken from Mississippi River Journal to benefit the Audubon Society John Pugh and Jessica Robinson

Ode to A Mosquito

Mosquito. Oh you @!*^%*# mosquito.
My loathing toward you has no bounds.
You are my nemesis.

No friend would torment me so.
Painful proboscis poking.
Suck, suck, sucking away at me.

Why must you torment me so?
I've done you no harm, yet.
So small, yet such a big pain.

Come hither my pretty.
Just a little closer.
Steady now. That's it.
No quarter for you.

Mosquito. Oh you @!*^%*# mosquito!

Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile

Type III Vampires

Day 113-August 4th
Destination: Shelter Cove
Miles: 12.5 (plus 1.5 off trail miles)
Cumulative Miles: 1587

Mosquitoes so thick, one might have thought they were swimming in a lake of insects. Sure, they died down a couple miles before the end of this short day, but not before Apricots said:

"There is a special place in hell for mosquitoes, a place where they fly about with thousands of miniature mosquitoes swarming them endlessly biting at their small ravenous bodies."

Psycho added, with a quote from the Tale of Graydick in Wolves of Calla, "May their first day in hell last 10,000 years, and may it be the shortest."

Usually in the morning, the mosquito swarm has dropped down, with the cold night as the sun retires for the day. It would seem that this was not the case today though. We woke with a swarm as abundant as the one we went to bed with.

Wearing head nets and raincoats we packed quickly and abandoned our site, hoping to escape the mosquitoes. We did not. As we climbed into the Diamond Peak wilderness, we walked along the snowy base of Diamond Peak which we paused to enjoy, until the mosquitoes overwhelmed our perfect sitting rocks.

Afterward we dropped into the shade of a forested path, which was riddled with many small lakes and tarns, each with their own family of mosquitoes and the families were large and extended. We fought our way through the writhing clouds of agony until we descended to Odell Lake and Shelter Cove.

We planned to only shower, eat, and do laundry before pushing a few more miles into the day. Yet sadly, or perhaps gladly, the serenity of the place (and general lack of mosquitoes) lured us in for a short hiking day and a restful afternoon.


Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile

Mosquito Mania

Day 112-August 3rd
Destination: 4 miles north of Summit Lake
Miles: 24.5 (plus 0.8 off trail miles)
Cumulative Miles: 1574.5

So many mosquitoes.
So many mosquitoes.

We had short reprieve from their constant whining as we took lunch, overlooking Cowhorn Mountain, and that was pretty much it.

So many mosquitoes.

While we took dinner at Summit Lake, the mosquitoes were the worst we had seen all day. When we left Summit Lake, with it's beautiful view of Diamond Peak, we followed a trail through flatish land with multiple bogs...so many mosquitoes.

Finally, when we couldn't take it anymore, we set up camp and dove into our tent. We spent the next twenty minutes killing all the mosquitoes that followed us in.

So Many.

Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile

Paying Tribute

Day 111-August 2nd
Destination: MM 1875ish
Miles: 22.5 (plus 1.5 off trail miles)
Cumulative Miles: 1550

This morning we woke, and hiked a quick six miles up to the Mt. Thielsen summit trail. When Psycho hiked in 2005, he passed up an opportunity to summit the mountain. Two hours later, he was semi-lost in the snow with broken trekking poles and soaked feet. He chose to turn back. Since then, he has felt that Mt. Thielsen acts as a sort of gate keeper to the rest of the trail north. As such, he felt it necessary to linger on the mountain, perhaps even climb it.

We stashed our packs a few hundred feet up the summit trail, and decided to hike up the mountain, at least some of the way. The trail is about one mile long, but you climb close to two thousand feet. This steep ascent was made on loose scree, which had eroded off the rocky escarpments which make up the sides of this shield volcano. We did not go all the way to the top, and the last 50-100 feet require ropes for safe climbing. We went far enough to get above tree line, and have a fantastic view of most of the surrounding land, including Diamond Lake (pictured above).

After taking in the view, we had to return to our packs, and our hiking. We made the skiing sliding descent down the loose scree. When we arrived back to our packs, we put them on, only to find that they seemed much heavier, as we were used to the packless hike up Mt. Thielsen.

Mid-afternoon as we passed by the red dome of Tipsoo Peak, we hit the high point of the PCT for Oregon and Washington. It was only 7560 feet in elevation, and the climb up to it and drop down from it was barely noticeable. It is, however, another PCT landmark to be moved to the "been there, done that" column.

Hiking along the forested hillsides after Tipsoo Peak, the mosquito population grew to unbearable levels. We put our head nets on (which we always carry in our hands lately), and sprayed our arms with DEET, a nasty pesticide which works wonders (who knows what it's doing to us). A few more miles, and we arrived at camp.

We dove into our tent to escape the mosquitoes. Then we made sandwiches, an atypical meal for us. Perhaps it was the nice day, perhaps the sandwiches, or maybe the Deet on our skin, whatever it was we had a laughing party. It was hard to say anything without our sides cramping with laughter, or our eyes watering with joyous tears. Pleasant, it was.

Hiking for Cherryville Heartsongs
Visit our blog to find out how to donate
http://northboundheartsong.blogspot.com

Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile

Rim Walk

Day 110-August 1st
Destination: Highway 138
Miles: 11 (plus 2 off trail miles)
Cumulative Miles: 1527.5

We awoke early and caught a glimpse of the sunrise over Crater Lake. Stepping out of the tent, Psycho took a few pictures before returning to the comfort of his warm down sleeping bag and catching two more hours of sleep. We would have stayed up, but we were in no rush today, as we knew our resupply package still hadn't arrived at Mazama Village.

After a breakfast with a postcard perfect view, we packed up and began hiking. Most of today's walk took us along the rim of Crater Lake. First we climbed around Hillman Peak (which we mistook for "The Watchman" yesterday). Passing around its red rock crags, we saw the towering hill that was actually "The Watchman."

When we approached the towering hill on the rim, one of the highest points along the rim, we chose to take a half-mile detour to the lookout tower at the top. Alone at the top, we took in a fantastic panorama which showed peaks as close as Mt. McLoughlin and Mt. Thielsen, as well as peaks as far as Mt. Shasta and Diamond Peak. Shortly after we began the half mile descent back to the trail, we started passing a large collective of day hikers making their way to the top. If we were ten minutes later, we would have had to share the view with ten plus heavily perfumed and cologned people. It's nice to find an ounce of solitude in an otherwise overrun natural landmark.

We continued our hike around the rim, constantly stopping to stare in wonder at the blue depths; a blue so rich one could get lost in it's crystal depth transfixed on thoughts of infinite complexity.

Before long, yet no long enough, we arrived at Crater Lake Lodge, and with it the plentiful hordes of visitors. Years before the discovery of Crater Lake by settlers, the Native Americans would intentionally steer settlers along paths that avoided the lake, in an attempt to preserve it's majestic, if not spiritual, beauty. It was eventually discovered by "white folk" and we have preserved it as best we could in this world... Sort of.

Hiking a quick 5 miles down to Mazama Village, we bought supplies for the next leg, as our resupply box hadn't arrived, and we wanted to keep moving. The worker at the Lodge was kind enough to print maps for us, so that we were not going blind, and the workers at Mazama Village store let us return some food when we realized the hiker box was bountiful.

Four hitches later we arrived back at Highway 138, where we started Sobo yesterday afternoon. We walked a quarter mile in from the road and set up camp just after sunset in the midst of a devilish symphony of whining mosquitoes.

---we would like to say thank you to all those who have helped us along the way with kind emails and care packages. Andrea, thanks for your regular motivational emails. Kristine thank you for the care package that we will eventually get to. Adrienne and Barbara, you rocked our world. Cody and DK, you help make our days easier. And of course thank you family, our most ardent supporters...packages, emails, liquor, and visits.

Trail Angels...You are our magical guardians.

Hiking for Cherryville Heartsongs
Visit our blog to find out how to donate
http://northboundheartsong.blogspot.com

Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile