Frank McCubbins
My daughter, Susie, is an avid hiker, swimmer, cyclist, runner, and aerobic enthusiast.
Sometimes I think she is charged with nuclear energy. At 47 years old she should be slowing down, but I haven’t seen any sign of it yet. I was the same way when I was young, but now, at 70, I have slowed down . . .way down.
When I asked my energetic daughter if she would like to accompany me on a 100-mile hike on Oregon’s Pacific Crest Trail from the Columbia gorge to Highway 20. She readily accepted. Knowing her like I do, I should have known what would happen to my leisurely 100-mile hike. Before I could turn around twice, she was suggesting we hike the entire length of Oregon, a distance of 481 miles. Naturally I balked, using my age as an excuse.
“Come on dad,” she pleaded, “we’ll take a pair of llamas to carry our packs. It will be easy.”
I have to admit, it sounded like an exciting challenge. I realized, as our friendly argument continued, that I was loosing the battle. Susie knew how much I liked challenge and adventure. I agreed to the 481-mile hike, but, only if we did it in one hundred mile segments (100 miles per year) and only if we used a pack animal to carry our gear. And to add a little spice and fun to our adventure, we decided to use a different kind of pack animal each year.
We studied maps, read books, and listened to valuable advice offered by experienced hikers. We chose August for our hike to help insure good weather and to be free of pesky mosquitoes.
We began the first 60-mile segment of our hike on Aug. 15, 1999 at the California border, using llamas to carry our gear. Llamas seem ideal. They are cheap, easily trained and can go days without water if needed. A llama can survive on grass, weeds or the leaves of a tree. My Labrador, Choco, accompanied us and carried his own backpack.
We followed the crest of a high ridge and almost immediately we came upon beautiful vistas that seemed to reach out forever. The scenery was breathtaking. One of those things that you wish everyone you knew could be there to share it with you. We could easily see Pilot Peak off in the distance. It looked as if it was at least a hundred miles away, a little disheartening knowing our goal lies some distance on the opposite side of the peak.
We spent our first night at Wrangle Gap, a small campsite for hikers. I decided to sleep inside the shelter while Susie pitched her tent on a little grassy spot a short distance away. I was sound asleep when I heard Susie yell “Daaaaad, Chooooco”, her voice echoing across the canyons and through the trees.
Leaping up and untangling myself from my sleeping bag, I shined a flashlight on her tent. Nothing unusual.
“What’s the matter?”
“There’s an animal trying to get into my tent.” She responded.
When Susie first called, Choco had bounded from beside me and out toward Susie’s tent.
“I don’t see anything,” I assured her.
“It ran off as soon as Choco came out of the shelter.”
“Well, it was probably a deer.”
“Do deer snort and growl?”
“No.”
“Do deer punch your tent like they are trying to get inside?”
“No.”
“Then what else would it be?”
“Sounds like a bear to me.”
That was all it took. She was out of the tent and in the shelter with me in less time then it took to write this sentence.
Day two began as soon as darkness relinquished its dominance to the gray shadows of morning. The trail leads us East, South East, and sometimes South. I wondered how we would ever reach the Washington border if we didn’t ever go north.
Whoever laid out the Pacific Crest Trail did a masterful job. Although we are traversing through rough, steep mountains, the trail has a minimum of climbing and descents. Mostly it skirts, or goes around the mountains, thus the reason for going every which way but North. We reach our goal for the day, another small shelter, about 5 p.m.
At 6:45 a.m. we were on the trail again. Almost immediately, we began a delightful journey through a variety of waist high wild flowers. We saw several deer, including four nice bucks.
At one point the trail emerged from the forest and crossed a road, here we met a group of very friendly senior citizens just ready to embark on the portion of trail that we were leaving. There were about 20 men and women. Most looked to be 70 or older.
They bombarded us with questions about the llamas and nearly all of them wanted to take our picture. I have the greatest respect for these elderly people who are not content to grow old setting at home in an easy chair. They seemed to be having a great time.
There is certain magic to a well-laid trail. After traversing though forest so beautiful it seemed we were on a nature walk, we stopped for lunch and to rest our animals. The llamas responded by lying down. A sure sign they are weary.
About 4 p.m we reached the I-5 freeway, we elected to travel on another mile or so to get away from the noise of the freeway before setting up camp. Our goal is to cover 10 miles per day, but sometimes circumstances causes the distance to vary a little. On this day we had hiked 11 miles.
The next day we reached Pilot Rock, a majestic edifice that seems to be reaching up into the Heavens. Pilot Rock is visible for hundreds of miles and has been used as a travel reference since the days of early pioneers.
Having reached this goal, we now set our sights on the distant Mt McLauplin. By 3 p.m. we reach Fenced Springs, a natural spring that has formed a small pond. Susie and I take the time to wash our sweat-soaked clothes in the stock tank and bathe our tired feet. Obsidian chips lay scattered on the ground, a sure sign that Indians had used this very spot to camp in the distant past. Susie looked around and was rewarded by finding a nice arrowhead.
We were a little reluctant to leave our picturesque camp site with its clear running spring, but by 7:30 a.m. we were on or way. This portion of the PCT is the highest of the entire trail. Today we began a slow descent that will drop us down 2,000 feet and eventually to Hyatt Lake. We reach it by early afternoon hot, tired and worn to a frazzle. A swim in the beautiful lake helped to revive our bodies as well as our spirits.
Our next goal is Howard Lake, a distance of about 10 miles. We are on our way by 7:30 a.m. The sun’s warming rays soon cause the perspiration to flow as the trail leads upward for several miles.
Both Susie and I thought we were in pretty good physical condition but we each suffered from a six-day fatigue that had crept up on us. We had quit eating regular meals. Satisfied to piece on the snacks in our daypacks. By the time we reached Howard Lake, we were really beat. We learned that being over tired could curb the appetite to a dangerous level. Good food and lots of rest are essential.
The six day, 60-mile traverse was not that hard, thanks to the llamas. The PCT is marvelously constructed. One can easily tell that great pains have been taken to keep the hiker surrounded by the beauties of nature and hidden from civilization. Even though the terrain is rugged, the mountains steep, there is a minimum of ascents and descents and when they are unavoidable, they are gradual and easily traversed without to much effort.
Our hike was immensely satisfying. The fellowship with my wonderful daughter was very rewarding and enjoyable. If we cover approximately 100 miles each year we will reach the Columbia gorge by the year 2002, God willing. Only 421 miles left to go.