My brother Matt and I hiked to the top of
Mount Defiance yesterday as part of our training for Mount Adams. This being a training hike, we included ~30 lbs of gear/backpack. It's funny, these training hikes. We go to efforts (like purchasing lead diving weights and packing 3 coats) to add extra weight to our packs. We weigh the packs on the bathroom scale and say, "that's not enough weight -- it's only 27 lbs." So we add an extra couple pounds (e.g. a Platypus bottle w/ water) and then we're happy.
For the real deal -- the hike to overnight camp on the Lunch Counter and then summit Adams the next day -- the challenge will be to LIMIT the weight as much as possible. A lighter sleeping bag or ground pad; a thinner but still warm fleece; a smaller stove. Perspective changes from preparing muscles to performance.
We achieved adequate sleep Friday night and set out for
Starvation Creek State Park Saturday morning. This park is located a few miles west of Hood River and provides access to Warren Lake and the Mount Defiance trail.
The sky being overcast and the wind much in evidence, we stayed relatively cool the majority of the trip. The first part of the trail takes in a couple waterfalls and allows for one no-bridge creek fording.
The trail then meanders through some nice patches of poison oak (in which Matt saw a couple people wildflower hunting (?) on his way back down -- I wonder how itchy they are today?) before beginning the major switchbacks. These proceed for 1-2 miles and accomplish about 2000 feet of elevation gain.
It was during this period (as with the first 1000- 2000 ft elevation gain of many other trails I have tackled) that the mental battle raged.
"If I'm this tired already, how do I expect to repeat it four more times?" -- thought after the first 1000 feet.
"Can I really do this?"
"I'm sure I can do it, but will it take me all day? I've done a hike like this before, but not with 30# on my back!!"
The first 1-2000 feet provide a couple views of Shellrock Mountain, which help the hiker gauge(without checking the GPS) how much elevation he has achieved. The poison oak disappears after the first 1000 feet above sea level, or so.
After the first 2000 feet, the trail levels off and gives the sorrowing hiker a kind respite for a time. It was at this point that I began to feel happier about the trail and to think kind(er) thoughts toward it.
The understory (and canopy) gradually changes as the trail progresses, the higher elevations lending themselves more to beargrass than to the delicate herbaceous greens. The trees decrease in size. And the rocks become more plenteous until you reach a majestic shale field which looks like so many rock staircases.
Shortly after this shale field, we hit snow and shortly donned gaiters.
Modeling the gaiters:
My right hiking shoe has a slit in the leather down the side, only the mesh lining keeping dirt from my foot. The benefit of gaiters for a shoe such as this may seem dubious, but gaiters keep snow from entering through the TOP of the shoe... even if not through the holey side... so I am convinced of their usefulness.
We followed the footprints of other persons for a while, and these footprints eventually veered around the mountain in a track almost parallel to the elevation line. This seemed like a waste of time, but we followed the prints nonetheless... until we entered a dense forest... and arrived at a dead end. We made use of the trusty GPS, and went the opposite direction. We found another boulder field, this of significantly-sized rocks, and followed the cairns to the top. A short trip through the forest -- and, ahah, the road!
There's a service road that goes to the top of the mountain to tend the cell phone tower, etc. Cat(erpillar) tread marks indicated recent use of the road.
There's a service road that goes to the top of the mountain to tend the cell phone tower, etc. Cat(erpillar) tread marks indicated recent use of the road.
Trekking along:
A small rodent attended out lunch, much to my brother's dismay. I "think" it wanted his foldable foam camp seat.
