A Jaunt on the PCT, Day One

Olallie Lake, with Mount Jefferson in the background

I'm happy to say that Zach and I were able to take a four-day backpacking trip on the Pacific Crest Trail last week! It was our first trip of this kind since Olympic National Park two years ago, and our first trip longer than twenty miles since the Katy Trail three years ago (and, of course, our first backpacking trip on the PCT since our thru-hike five years ago). I realized that I am woefully out of shape, but despite that, I've still got the legs and the will to make miles.

Our planned route, from Olallie Lake to Timberline Lodge on Mount Hood, was 53.7 miles, which we planned to cover in four days. However, it soon became clear that we'd be reaching our goal way too soon, so we added a 13-mile detour, a loop around scenic Timothy Lake. Sixty-six-ish miles in four days ended up being just about right.

Our day on Sunday, July 28th, began with a two-and-a-half-hour drive from Portland to Olallie Lake Resort, which took us over some jarring gravel roads. Gary was dropping us off and picking us up again, and his car took a serious beating getting us to the cluster of cabins on the shores of the lake. But at last we made it, ate some peanut-butter-chocolate wraps, and said goodbye until Wednesday.

Olallie Lake is a sight in and of itself: the glittering blue water stretches out in a wide arc, with the peak of Mount Jefferson standing guard on the near horizon. We took some pictures, then hoisted our backpacks (which were so much lighter than on the PCT— more on that later) and hiked into the forest.

Like many of Oregon's forests, this one was a mix of young firs and tall dead trunks, the remnants of the constant cycle of fire and regrowth. Along the edges of the trail, huckleberry bushes grew densely, and some of the blueberry-like fruit were ready to eat! We snacked on the refreshingly tart berries as we hiked, our feet kicking up dust. Clumps of beargrass, bouquets of Indian paintbrush, and thickets of purple lupine nodded in the breeze. We even found a ground cover called whortleberry, which grows tiny blueberries that taste like fruit punch.

We walked nine miles in the next few hours, and around 6:00 stopped to filter water at the Lemiti River, which was lined with rhododendron and wildflowers. We ended up joining eight other people who had pitched tents in a group campsite: two women out for a week, a group of people from Illinois and New Hampshire in a guided four-day hike, and one hiker from Cambridge doing three months of southbound hiking. 

They were building a fire, so we sat down to chat with them, and decided to spend the night there, since we had already hiked more miles than we expected today. Zach got incredibly antsy and paced a lot that evening, but on this trip we were intentionally trying to slow down. Still, with our revised backpacking set-up, camp chores were taking up much less time than we were used to: instead of bringing a stove and cooking pot, we were trying out stove-less meals. So instead of spending an hour boiling water, making a meal, and cleaning up several dishes, we were just rehydrating refried beans in an old peanut butter jar, slapping it on some tortillas with some dehydrated hot sauce, and calling it a meal. 

Despite Zach's restlessness, I had a good time chatting with people around the fire, hearing their stories of hikes and scenery and favorite places. Even after an extended time around the fire, it was still barely dusk, but we decided to embrace the concept of "hiker midnight" being 9:00, and set up our tent. 

I slept pretty lousy that night, but every time I woke up, I looked up through the fir silhouettes into a sky overflowing with stars.

~~~