Start point
Pond at mile 2,000
End point
Tentsite at mile 2,025.1
Miles hiked
25.1
Wilderness area
Willamette National Forest
Deschutes National Forest
Mount Jefferson Wilderness
People I met
Denial and her crew
The day on trail
Sleeping next to a pond always has the risk of condensation. Couple that with the fact that we got sprinkled on yesterday, and that I decided it was best to put my rain fly on because of that, and it’s a wonder I woke up with so little condensation today.
It helped that I left my vestibules open for ventilation, but even so, the condensation was there. Luckily it was constrained to my rain fly and a few spots of my tent body. Thank goodness. I hate packing up a damp quilt.
Ketchup took off before I did.
I threw a bunch of wild huckleberries into my oatmeal with breakfast. When nature gives you such a garnish, you freaking take it.
It was so pretty this morning though. I didn’t look at the lake, because it was through some bushes, but the air was just scented with water, mist, pine, and dirt. It was all I want. Bugs weren’t crazy enough that I had to rush, but I still put on my picaridin.
Packed it up and took off.
And basically immediately hit a burn zone after seeing one sign of a side trail.
But you can’t dwell on it. You just gotta go. Especially because you can’t camp near dead trees. Just…go.
And go I did. Into a new-to-me wilderness area.
With blowdowns. Big ones. Slick ones that were hard to climb over.
And squirrels. Fluffy ones I wanted to cuddle.
And thistles and bees.
Best of all was the mist. This mist came in and settled over the landscape, making it such a perfect temperature, and didn’t cause too much condensation. And it was so moody!
There was a massive hollowed out log that caught my attention.
Walking on, I felt like there was something else. I saw little things. The fog plays with you, but I’d spent enough time in the SF Bay Area to know fog and mist. I know myself and my mind.
Sure enough, I came across a herd of mountain goats.
They were just wandering around, eating what they could, watching for predators like humans to protect their young from. It was so fun to see them. They, understandably, started to move away from me when I hung around too long taking photos.
This is some of the stuff I love most out here.
I was worried I wouldn’t get any views because of the mist.
But then there was Three Fingered Jack.
She just poked out of the mist then hid back in it. Exactly what Tahoma does. She comes out, then hides. You have to watch and be patient.
The trail was a little rockier than usual and got a little crumbly. Not sharp, squeaky, and painful like the volcanic areas. It was more a combination of packed dirt that occasionally crumbled away with a rock shifting from within it.
It was nice. I like the variety. One terrain gets, not boring, but just repetitive. I’m here to see more than one thing.
I found some sweet little mushies. A coral and witch’s butter.
Some trail signs.
And then I turned a corner and saw one of the most beautiful mountains I’ve seen. Ever. Jefferson.
Photos couldn’t do it justice. It stopped me in my tracks for a few minutes. I don’t know why. It was just so much.
I had to keep going. And someone left a little marker exemplifying how I felt.
The trail provides. Sometimes it’s love that it provides. Maybe it’s just a reflection of the love I have.
There was a small lake with some views of Jefferson.
I’m just eating this up.
Soon I got to the campsite. Ketchup joined me shortly after. It was a long day. We had dinner, caught up, and crashed.