Subscribe
So there is a dirty rumor that there is extensive video footage of this past Summer's adventure. This is 100% valid, but still dirty. Honestly, I have not even begun to look through this footage. So for now, here is a teaser of some of the best footage...or the worst...seriously I have no idea...it's pretty much the first few minutes of footage I found...there...you happy now?
Lightening So Bright it Hurts My Eyes
Day 3 in the eerie, prehistoric backcountry of the Eagle Cap Wilderness. In the heart of the Wallowa Whitman National Forest in Northeastern, OR, Eagle Cap is relatively remote, and seems to have escaped the bump in popularity seen in many comparable western mountain regions. On a day of hiking in Eagle Cap you can easily find yourself dwarfed by old growth pine forests, sweating through temperate rainforest, wind burned along alpine ridges, and trying to keep your feet dry in knee deep snow. Eagle Cap has everything; everything except lots of other people. So actually, forget everything I just told you. That place is really boring, there is no TV and certainly not internet and you really should never ever go there.
So, day 3 in Eagle Cap, our group of 2 leaders and 10 campers huffed it the approximately 10 miles from North Minam Meadows to Swamp Lake (about 2,000ft higher). This hike has a taste of everything I described above. I have a pretty big head, and at one point during this hike a toad the size of my head casually plopped itself down on the trail in front of us, stared us down, licked its lips (do toads have lips?) and then casually plodded off down the other side of the trail.
We arrived at Swamp Lake around 3pm, and quickly set up camp in anticipation of impending wet weather from clouds that had been threatening all day. Swamp lake is surrounded on all sides by some of the highest peaks in Eagle Cap, and directly framed along one edge by 30 foot high cliffs. This was early July, and there was still a lot of snow at elevation, making our site selection a little more difficult. Eventually we erected our tents
perched atop the cliff lined side of the lake, one of the only dry spots. -->At about 8pm that night the clouds, that had only been threatening until that time, broke open upon our camp. Hunkered in our tents we fell asleep listening to the rain testing the water proofness of our little shelters. The sound of the rain was periodically drowned out by booming claps of thunder, as a major system passed over us.
Around 1am I was startled from my sleep, not by the thunder, which had long since become part of the background chorus of the night, but by a nigh on blinding light. The same light had roused my co-leader, Jagger, from his beauty rest. The two of us sat upright in our sleeping bags at opposite ends of the tent, silently listening to the rain, and the thunder, and bracing ourselves for the next bright flash. During a summer in the backcountry the tent becomes our office, our bed, and our refuge from the never ending questions of inquisitive 15 year olds. That night, the millimeter thin walls were a fortress.
After a few moments of sitting in silent wonder, I cautiously unzipped our tent door. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness it was quickly evident that the storm was no longer passing over us; we were in the thunder head.
My head fill with concerns that bounced around my noggin and fought each other for the front of the line.
How much longer? Campers? Lightening position? Flooding? Sasquatch? What do thunderheads taste like?
Hopefully not long. Sleeping, or awake and frightened. Pretty useless at this point. A few damp tents never hurt anyone. Definitely real. Somewhat mildewy.
Inside of a thunderhead there was little we could do. It was a helpless, but relieving feeling. Whatever happened, was going to happen, and we could only sit back and watch mother nature at her finest.
Around 4am the storm began to subside. The flashes began to dim, the thunder seemed to move away, and the pelting sound of rain on our tent fly began to ease. I took this easement as a chance to leave the confines of our tent to empty my bladder. Unzipping the tent door I slipped my sandals on, and stepped outside...into blinding whiteness. The rain had not really passed, but had turned to snow in the cool air left in the wake of the thunderstorm. I stood there in my underwear, sandals, and wool hat, frozen by the beauty...and the cold. After a few moments I realized that I was not the only one who had taken the opportunity as a bathroom break. Three of my campers stood outside their tent, frozen in awe as I.
It was one of those moments that I will never forget. It was a moment of pure beauty and power, one of those moments that many of us, who spend half our lives in tents, live for.
39 Days + 1 Lower Ballfield
On day 3 you notice how bad the van smells. On day 13 you can't really smell it anymore. On day 30 you still can't smell it, but other people sure can. That smell is what happens when 9 males spend 39 days together in a 15 passenger van. To be fair, only about 14 of those days were actually spent in the van, but when 7 of those 9 males are 15 year olds...well...the smell tends to build quickly.
Its a smell I've become used to over 120 days of tripping during the past 3 summers. This summers trip was, like all others, an adventure. Unfortunately, this summers trip was also probably the smoothest...which means less crazy stories for me to share. But here's my shot at the top ten list from this summer. Stories to come soon...if I feel like it...which I probably will sometime around Thanksgiving.
1. Waking up in a thunderhead, peeing in a snow storm in the Eagle Cap Wilderness of Oregon.
2. Backcountry horseshoes in Eagle Cap Wilderness
3. Informing the leaders of a group of Canadian Girls Scouts with whom we shared a group campsite that their girls had some late night male visitors from town.
4. Epic thunderstorm on the drive into the Badlands on night one.
5. Swimming at the foot of a glacier in Berg Lake of Mt. Robson Provincial Park, B.C.
6. ...well that 5 for now...the next five to come soon...feel free to suggest your own if you were on trip with me this summer...
Its a smell I've become used to over 120 days of tripping during the past 3 summers. This summers trip was, like all others, an adventure. Unfortunately, this summers trip was also probably the smoothest...which means less crazy stories for me to share. But here's my shot at the top ten list from this summer. Stories to come soon...if I feel like it...which I probably will sometime around Thanksgiving.
1. Waking up in a thunderhead, peeing in a snow storm in the Eagle Cap Wilderness of Oregon.
2. Backcountry horseshoes in Eagle Cap Wilderness
3. Informing the leaders of a group of Canadian Girls Scouts with whom we shared a group campsite that their girls had some late night male visitors from town.
4. Epic thunderstorm on the drive into the Badlands on night one.
5. Swimming at the foot of a glacier in Berg Lake of Mt. Robson Provincial Park, B.C.
6. ...well that 5 for now...the next five to come soon...feel free to suggest your own if you were on trip with me this summer...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)