Riding The Crest 2009

WASHINGTON Section H         White Pass to The Bridge of the Gods

September 13 - September 22

Ralph turned on the generator and made coffee and a breakfast of grits, eggs and bacon while I got dressed and started packing. I  was ready to finish Washington and then do as much of Oregon as I could, weather permitting. So I would ride across the Goat Rocks Wilderness down to the Columbian Gorge, starting with a two day ride from White Pass to Rd 5603 where Ralph could meet me to re-supply. Just as we finished eating Creamiscle arrived with his pack and came in for coffee and eggs and grits. I saddled and packed Cane and crossed Hwy 12 to continue south on the PCT at 8:55.  Ralph and Creamiscle and Ech drove to the Cracker Barrel Store on Hwy 12 for Creamiscle’s supplies before Creamiscle got on the trail north. I would have liked Ralph to hike in with me to see the Packwood Glacier, the Goat Rocks and Knife's Edge, but he would not be able to make the long hike with his tender heels. His plantar fasciitis were causing him great pain and he was trying to stretch his calf muscles on a regular basis to see if that would help. In the meantime his movement was greatly limited by his pain. At 10:05 Cane and I reached the junction of Chairlift Trail. There was a large section of newly installed trail.  I had heard the helicopters all day yesterday and the warning signs were still up. Today all was quiet and the trail was freshly turned and ready for hoof prints. What an incredible feat it is to have installed 2600 miles of trail and now the job of maintaining it was endless. We put our share of hoof prints on the trail and saw great views of Mt. Rainer. Before Shoe Lake Basin (at 6600’) was a scree traverse and then afterwards there was a rock slide area with very large rocks. There were large gaps between the rocks that a hoof could slip in and a leg been broken. It needed filling and more rock removal to be safe. I walked Cane across and warned him of every danger. He walked it like a pro despite some slipping. There was also a long downhill that I walked for one hour. At the saddle at Shoe Lake there were two couples who had watched me ride up the scree traverse. They asked where I rode from and I answered White Pass. Then they asked where I was going and I told them California. That started a lot of questions and exclamations so I told a bit of  my story. One of the men said I needed to write a book and I said I would. They took pictures for me. That day I saw hikers, packers and other riders. Two of the hikers were Sunfish and Beetle, resting beside the trail. From afar she asked if they were far enough off the trail. When I said “yes, you’re fine” she recognized me. Beetle exclaimed how surprised she was to see me and asked how Jur and Harmony were. I said “so you have not heard the news.” By the time I finished the sentence I was choked up. Beetle teared up, covered her mouth, and said, “oh no.” I told them I had lost the horses three weeks ago and then started, once again, to tell briefly of that horrific day. Beetle cried with me and Sunfish was teary eyed too. They had hiked several different days and times (Aqua Dulce, Baden Powell, and the Angel Crest Hwy 2) with me and the horses. It was a shock to them to hear the horses were gone as it still is to me each time I tell it. I still have a hard time realizing they will not be at the back of my trailer, or in my pasture, or beneath my hands. It is a comfort to know others share my sorrow. After sharing that comfort I rode on. As I approached the Goat Rocks it was just after four o’clock and the winds were up. I decided to make camp near the top which is 7080 feet rather than riding the Goat Rocks so late. Also I did not want to do the Goat Rocks and Knife's Edge without good weather. This would be one of the most spectacular sections of the Pacific Crest Trail IF the weather was clear. At four o'clock the clouds had started rolling in and were blanketing the mountain top in fog. I found an established campsite on level ground (woohoo!) in some cedar trees, which blocked most the wind wonderfully. I set up my tent and then took a bare Cane down to graze while I filtered water. There was a large meadow and lots of snow melt runoff for water. Besides some other hikers and some hunters I saw my first mountain goat. A big white billy (I think) who kept wanting to come out to graze and kept running off when another hiker rounded the bend. At 6:15 I was in my tent and eating my dinner. I had a lot of time to work on my journal. I tried to get phone reception but there is none up there. Ralph and I had not had phone connection for several days and it was hard on Ralph not knowing where I was. For me, meeting up with the hikers helped though I wanted to be with Ralph more than ever. Each night I wanted to be with him rather than out on the trail-a shift of season. The heart had gone out of the trip but I did not want to go home either and see that empty pasture. I still had a big hurt and a lot of healing.

On Monday I was up at 6 and the sun was peeking through the thinning clouds, but the wind was up. I had to pack my tent wet from the clouds sitting on it during the night. I got Cane fed and packed and then took him to the meadow for a short graze. I rode him up to the first part of the rocks. Then I walked the rest of the Goat Rocks and Knife’s Edge (about 3 1/2 miles). The going was slow and Cane brushed my ankle several times in his impetuous rush to be with me. He seemed to crowd me when he was nervous unlike when we were on the flats and I often had to pull him on. The trail climbed to the first rock and went to the north side. It was rocky and narrow but passable. The rocks in the trail were varied about the size of footballs to small gravel. There were a couple of rock steps. To the west was Mount Rainier in white rising above everything else, dominating the landscape. As I gained the ridge I could see the Goat Rocks we would climb and the Knife's Edge that was similar to walking a knife's edge. As I  traveled along the ridge I could see in every direction. Back to the north was a blue gray line of the Cascade Mountains from where I had come. To the south was the Knife’s Edge and the Goat Rocks rising and falling and the Packwood Glacier still in snow. To the east was the meadow I had recently left and to the west was rolling mountains of the Southern Cascades. As I gained the ridge top there was a warning sign: "Caution: Few stock passing areas next 1 1/2 miles." The trail would not be wide enough for two. I could see no one else on the trail so I moved forward as my breath allowed. (Since I was not riding but leading Cane, he was not winded but I often was.) We climbed up one rock tower and then down. The decline was harder than the ascent as all our weight was going down and we had to stop ourselves from slipping. I did slide several times but only about a foot’s length. Cane was placing his feet well and I did not see any slippage or hear any (I later found he lost a shoe though). We went around a rock ledge when I saw one hiker sitting on the leeward side of the rock, enjoying the sun and out of the howling wind, and another approaching. They joined up just as I got there and Miles yelled, “is that you Pepperoni?” I grinned and nodded my head. He put his pack down and kept coming to give me a bear hug and a kiss. We just hugged and hugged while I started weeping and saying how glad I was to see him. I was remembering the great times the four of us had together. I then met Monologue, the hiker he was with. So right in the middle and on top of Goat Rocks we sat and talked. This was one of the reasons I had returned to the trail - to talk to the friends I had made and receive comfort from them. Miles was a big blessing to me. I was layered up with my fleece and a wind breaker but still got cold from not moving. So after pictures and hugs, I lead Cane out to the Knife’s Edge and Miles and Monologue continued north. The Goat Rocks were stark and impressive but not real worrisome to me. Scree on the side of a mountain is more disconcerting to me than a solid ledge. Cane did very well. We then started to traverse the scree on the contour of the Goat Rocks. There was a split in the trail where the hikers climb higher along the backbone of the ridge and the stock route stays lower along the contour. We kept to the stock route and came to the smaller of the two snow banks. It was about 50’ across and rock hard with ice. I stepped on it and knew I was going to have to really watch my steps as it was slippery under my boots. I got about 10’ feet and fell flat and slid. I let go of the lead rope so I would not pull Cane down onto me. He was looking down at me like he was puzzled why I was on my belly laying down there and what was he suppose to do? When I stopped sliding, I clawed my way back up to the “trail” to Cane. He was calmly waiting. His greater weight anchored him and he continued carefully across while I used my gloved hands to grab every protruding rock for added traction. Fortunately, though it was a mountainside, it was in a 

pocket and even if I had fallen all the way I would not have gone more than 50.’ When I finished the first snow bank the next snow bank faced me not 100 yards further on the trail. I was not looking forward to another crawl across the ice and started looking for an alternative. I decided the added time of walking around the snow bank on the rocks to the lower side was worth it. Cane wasn’t as willing because it meant walking on rocks, not his forte. But he went obediently with me and I looked for the safest, smoothest route. Occasionally I saw shoeprints and knew I was not the fist with this idea. I scrambled over the rocks at the edge of the snow bank while Cane calmly walked on the ice. We made it back to the trail and finished the mountainside contour without anymore difficulty. The trail continued very rocky as the entire mountain looked like a rock pile. After 2 hours we were at a meadow with some trees and established campsites, a duplicate of the area I had stayed in last night. The clouds were rolling in again so I was glad I was rolling out. The Goat Rocks took a lot more time than I allotted for. By 12:30 we were only starting the climb to Cispus Pass so I stopped in a grassy spot for our lunch. As we finished, Gravitron (who I met way back in the CA desert) came by. He stopped and we chatted for a half hour and I shared my orange with him. He was very sympathetic about the horses and told me I was amazing and he was glad I was out there again (many of the hikers expressed the same). At 2:30 Cane was gimpy from losing his shoe on his right rear. He was slowing down and I was walking every down hill and as much of the level as I could manage. The mountains were turning to mere hills and the rock was lessening. At 4:00 I passed Walput Lake Trail junction and had 15 miles to Road 5603. I estimated at our rate it would be between 8 and 9 pm before making it to Ralph and the trailer. I would try as I did not want Ralph to worry about me all night and if I could make it we would both sleep better, as would Cane, as he would get grain and hay and more water at the trailer. So I pushed on. I was on forest bottom riding along when I saw a PCT hiker (they had a certain look at that point - rough!) hiking toward me and though I said “hello” several times he did not look up. It was not until he was nose to nose with Cane that he came to an abrupt stop. It was Stryder who had left the Wild Dogs behind and was now hiking on to Canada alone. Stryder had heard about the accident and gave me his condolences and said he would hug me except I was “way up there.” I was already jumping out of the saddle as I said, “for a hug, I will get off!” We had a hug and then said goodbye. At 7:10 the sun was down, the trail was forest, wide and well marked, and nearly level. It was along the Yakima Indian Reservation, a two-track avenue of white sand! Perfect conditions for my flashlight in the dark. By then I was glad to let Cane carry me and he did a great pace! We got to the trailer at 8:30. It was all locked up without Ralph or Ech. I unpacked Cane and set up his high line while he grazed. Then I fed him and myself. Ralph arrived back at 9pm. He had driven 38 miles to a convenience store to get phone service to call Melody to see where I was. She was not able to tell him as the signals had not come through yet, possibly because of the cloud cover. (All day I had noticed the signals took extremely long transmission times.) We called it a day! Whew! It was a long one-29 miles. Ralph and I ate grilled cheese sandwiches, took quick showers and got some sleep. 

We had camped at the trailhead on a dirt road used by loggers called Potato Hill/Road 5603.  Because of Cane's lost shoe we would once again get off the trail. Ralph made bacon and eggs while I took care of Cane. We would go to Jan and Gunnar G. in Amboy, WA and see about getting Cane's shoe replaced. It was a four hour drive but worth it to see these great friends we had made by God's "chance" on our 2007 American Adventure. Jan came out to greet me with a huge hug and say she was “very glad” to see me okay. That afternoon Jan called her farrier, Bill H., and he came out immediately to take care of Cane's hoofs. That evening we all went to Kei Thai Restaurant where we ate in 2007 when it first opened. (I had been looking forward to that!) They actually held the restaurant open for us. Once again we had a fabulous meal.  The next day we went to a Goodwill Store and Ralph and I both bought fleeces and I a pair of jeans (to replace the pair left on Little Giant Pass). We ate lunch at a bakery that made great sandwiches and cookies. Then Jan and Ralph dropped me at Starbucks and they went to Portland, OR to the Oregon Leather Company. Ralph bought ½ a hide to make pommel bags to replace the ones lost in the accident. (He also hopes to make his first saddle this winter as my saddle was also lost in the accident.) We ended the day with another meal together. The next day was spent packing for a three day ride. Our plan was that I would do a 24 mile day without packs and Ralph would meet me at the end. Then I would pack out for three more days and he would meet me again and supply me for one day and I would finish at Cascade Locks. That would complete Washington for me. 

So Friday morning Ralph and I got up at 3:40 and went to load food and Cane. We were borrowing Jan’s stock trailer and found we could not get to our tack. One of the lock pins would not slide back on the tack room door of the trailer. Ralph then took the door off the hinges and found the deadbolt had snapped in the locked position (all this in the dark). We could use the trailer but the tack door would have to be locked to stay shut and we’d reach through the window to unlock it. We were on the road at 4:30 and it took until 8:20 to get to the trailhead. While driving the clutch started squealing. Ralph wanted to turn around and go back to Jan and Gunnar's. I did not want to sit for days waiting for the truck repair when I could be on the trail. He did not like it but he took me to the trailhead. So instead of meeting Ralph that night I would be on my own for four days. It was a beautiful day. The trail was easy with very little elevation change on a sandy, level forest trail. We had several bridge crossings and many water crossings during the day too. Cane hesitated but did them. At 10:40 Mt. Adams was in front of me and Mount Rainer was directly behind me and I was seeing peeks of the top of Mt. St. Helens. That afternoon I found Dirk (Dirk hiked with me for two days after Jur and I were sick at Benson Lake in the High Sierras.) at a creek filtering water. He looked good and was newly engaged. After I left Dirk I got phone connection and called Ralph. (The truck would go in Monday for a new clutch plate.) While I was talking I missed a sharp turn in the trail and went out Round the Mountain Trail for four miles. I had to back track and that was very frustrating. At 6:30pm I was at Stagman Ridge Trail looking for a campsite after collecting water at a creek. I went another mile south on the PCT before finding a lovely field of grass with a campsite. I was set up and eating dinner at 7:30 in the darkening night. Cane grazed until I put him on the high line and went to bed.

I woke up to drizzle and quickly started breaking camp so that my gear would not get too wet. It had been a lovely camp with plenty of grass for Cane and a level site for my tent. I put on my rain gear and started down the Crest. The reality of the Crest had sunk in. It is truly a trail of incredible heights and lowly depths both physically and emotionally. It was challenging the very depths of me. It had again made me realize I CAN do all things in Christ and how much I am capable of, way beyond what I think I can. The rain continued all day. As the day wore on I saw hoof prints and when they did not turn back after lunch (indicating a day rider) I had hopes I would catch up to another Pacific Crest Trail rider. It was nearing five when I came to the intersection of the Woody Lake Trail and shortly after a beautiful meadow along a smaller lake. A perfect campsite, it was already occupied. The rain had let up and I could see it was a camp of horse riders. I waved and received a wave in return and so was inclined to go meet these fellow riders, hoping they were the ones I had followed all day. I urged Cane down the access trail to the meadow and rode across it to meet Michelle, Diane and Becky, all riding gaited horses for three days on the PCT. They invited me to join them and I gladly accepted. I was looking forward to talking with other women out doing what I was. After getting Cane unpacked and grazing, I set up my tent and the women invited me to share their meal. They had a fire going (tough with wet wood) and we all enjoyed some hours around it. We swapped ideas about packs and gear, as big a challenge to keep the weight down on a horse as on a hiker. Eventually the fire was not enough to keep us warm so we sought our sleeping bags. They would ride out with me in the morning and turn around after lunch.

I awakened sometime in the night very cold and shaking. My feet were ice cold. I put another pair of socks on my feet and another t-shirt on for a third layer on top. I still could not get back to sleep so I got some nuts out to eat along with some dried fruit. That seemed to help and I fell back to sleep much warmer. My BTUs must have dropped with not enough food in me to burn and stay warm with. That was the coldest I have felt and yet was not the coldest night though there were ice crystals on my tent that morning. I woke at 7:15 and could hear the girls talking. I dressed putting everything on I was so cold. Cane grazed and ate his feed. I took my cooker over to the now dead fireplace and cooked breakfast of oatmeal while sitting with the three women. Then we all started packing up. We were surprised how late it was when we got mounted. The three of them took turns leading us down the trail. They kept a fast pace with all gaited horses. Cane did his jog to keep up and did a great job. At about noon I could tell Cain was tiring at ten miles. Two hikers got off the trail to let us pass and I said hello to Chopper and Savior. They were very surprised to see me. These two brothers knew first hand the dangers of the trail. They had lost their mother on the PCT in 1997 and Chopper had been airlifted out this year for dehydration. The women went on (as I had told them to) and I talked with Chopper and Savior about 15 minutes. I never caught up the three women though we've communicated since. I pushed on thinking to find the three women eating their lunch but I was getting very hungry. So it was a lovely surprise to see Ralph and Ech at Road 60 at 1:30. Ralph had driven Jan’s car and waited all day for me. (Our truck was in the repair shop getting a new clutch.) After giving hay and water to Cane Ralph cooked steak, mashed potatoes and broccoli. I took the packs off Cane, spread out my wet gear to dry and repacked for two more days. Ralph had brought me re-supply. He also brought me trail magic. I ate watermelon, cookies and drank a Dr. Pepper. I was well stuffed when I rode down the trail at 3:40.  About 5 miles south of Road 60 I saw Rocketman coming toward me. I recognized him before he recognized me. I jumped off to hug him. Like Miles, I was hoping to see him but not expecting to as I had been told he was past me. Rocketman had been one of the first hikers to help me on the trail back at a tree on Fuller Ridge. He had also hiked with me and Dirk after my bout with food poisoning in the High Sierras. We had a great few minutes together. Rocketman told me that in about three miles there were some good campsites on ridges so I hoped to reach one. I did. Cane and I made camp about a mile past the Big Huckleberry Mountain Trail junction. I watched the sun set lighting up Mt. Hood right in front of my tent. Cane grazed until dark and then I put him on a high line behind my tent. I ate beef and peppers for dinner and had a couple of cookies before writing my journal and calling it quits at 9pm.

The wind was high in the beautiful morning so I bundled up. I packed up and started down off the mountain walking. Mt. Hood is as majestic as I remember from 2007 when I first saw it. At 9:30 I reached Panther Creek Road and did not see a PCT sign or mark so assumed the crossing was directly across the street. There was no tread as no one had been that way in a while, one of the downsides of being so late in the year. I finally saw a triangle and knew I was on target. It was all downhill from Huckleberry Mountain to Panther Creek Road. I walked a lot of it. At 11am we came to our first water, a trickle but with puddles. Cane had not had water since yesterday at 4. He had a good drink. Shortly after we came to Panther Creek and he got another drink. At 12:45 we ate our lunch at Trout Creek. Three o’clock we were climbing a long time to Stevenson Ridge. Late in the day we crossed Rock Creek and I looked for a campsite. The only one was on the south side and was small with no room for a horse to be 200 feet off the water. So I started to go on when I thought I better let Cane get a good drink. What I forgot was to get a drink myself. My water bottles were almost empty and I did not think of them until we were a couple of miles beyond the creek and still looking for a decent campsite. We never found more water nor a decent campsite. There was a slope the whole way and lots of undergrowth. So I stopped where I saw a flat area along a dry wash. There would be a level place for my tent and a level place between two trees for Cane’s high line. We were about 40’ off the trail in a fern bed. The ground was very soft and I only had to move a few rocks for my tent site. I ate dry food for my dinner and was in my sleeping bag around 8 o’clock.

I was up with the first light after sleeping well but waking many times. I felt well rested. I ate a cereal bar and dried fruit and swallowed the last ½ cup of Tang. Cain ate his feed and then I saddled up. As we moved out he wanted to trot and I held him back for his own good. We climbed through forest to the top for a long time and I was glad over and over again that I made camp where I did. There were no more choices as we climbed. When we got up along the ridge line the wind was buffeting us and my hat blew off two times. It was chilly so I added my down vest. We wound in and out of thick forest to catch glimpses of the various mountains. Then we went through a burnt area and I saw views of Mt. Hood. The trail was rocky and I was glad Cane was shod in the front and had the Renegade Horse Boots on the rear. He was moving well. There was a lot of blow down., most of which I could step over. A couple the size of my legs I sawed out of the trail. The only one too big to saw and too high to get over, I was able to climb up the bank and get around through the woods. At 10:15 we rode out a southerly contour and traveled east. I heard a train and could see trucks, like tiny flecks, moving along Interstate 84 in the Columbian Gorge. It was my first glimpse of the Gorge. Cane got a 15 minute graze and was happy. Around noon I had been having a good cry when I came to a pair of jeans lying across an upturned stump beside the trail. Whether intended or not, the jeans were being used as a trail register. All the hikers had stopped to “sign in.” I joined my signature to many others. It was fun to read what other had written before me. And it cheered me up a bit. Then, as I was still reading the jeans, a couple hiked up. They were very interested in my story. Alfonzo called me strong – that term again. Akina offered me a hug (so many did) and I gladly accepted. It was like God hugging me through many arms and hands of his on earth. She was the first one to ask me how I slept at night. I told her that getting new visions to override what I had seen has helped. They also asked if I was writing it all down. More and more I know I will write a book. It turned out they were both psychiatrists! After a nice visit I rode on while they continued their hike. At one o’clock I filled my water bottles while Cane got a drink on the south side of Table Mountain. It was a long and steep downhill and I walked a lot of it. Without the hikers there were a lot of spiders taking over the trail. I was ducking under them for the most part as I hated to disturb their work.. The forest smelled great with first day of autumn. The wind was blowing leaves and twigs down and the smell was wonderful. Finally the trail paralleled the Gorge and widened with obvious trail work. I started to see homes and civilization. At 4:15 I met Ralph and Ech at the end of the trail at the Bridge of the Gods and Cascade Locks. The bridge is about 100’ beyond where the trail comes to Hwy 14. 

One of the most interesting stories in Indian mythology is the Bridge of the Gods, a natural land formation across the Columbia river that collapsed several centuries ago. According to Indian legend, the collapse of the Bridge of the Gods happened because of a violent conflict between two mountain spirits, Wyeast (Mt. Hood) and Pahto (Mt. Adams). Both were vastly jealous over each other’s love for the Beautiful Loowit (Mt. St Helens). They threw red-hot boulders at each other, causing the earth to shake. Their disruption angered Tyee Sahale (The Great Spirit) who then shattered the Tomanowos (Bridge of the Gods). The broken fragments created what is today known as the Cascade Rapids, which are permanently submerged behind the Bonneville Dam. According to scientific history, the bridge existed and was created by an enormous landslide between the lava cliffs of Table Mountain and the North wall of the Columbia Gorge, somewhere between 1100 and 1250 A.D. The bridge damned the river, standing about 200 to 300 feet above sea level, high enough so Native Americans could safely cross the river. The Bridge collapsed around the 1690s, which coincides with the date of the last Great Cascadia Subduction Zone earthquakes. The current bridge was built in 1926.

NEXT: OREGON's Mount Hood and another ride with a friend.

So many trails - So little time!

This website is intended to share our adventure with you.
Visit as often J (or as little L ) as you like.  

We 'd like to hear from you. Please sign our guest book and/or e-mail us.

Janice will be your commentator.