two days, two backpacks. twenty miles.

We spent the weekend taking a walk in the woods east of home and enjoyed seeing the restorative power of the forest in a post-fire regime. The B&B complex fire burned a significant amount of the forest in this area in 2003, now, just 8 years later ghostly trees remain and the meadow and wildflowers are thriving.

We had a delightful time, hiking on a section of the PCT for about 10 miles and then skirting off to our overnight destination, about a half mile on its own trail. The next morning we connected with a local trail that looped us another 10.7 (to be exact) miles back to the truck.

Three Fingered Jack from the distance

Essentially, our hike circumnavigated the volcano. A feat that seemed out of reach when observing it from this far away...however, our approach was a rather gentle incline, and the next time we saw the peak it was surprisingly close.

Looking out over the ghost forest

This is me swiping away mosquitoes in the snow...the snow!

Looking much closer, the south-west side of Jack

Looking North to Mt. Jefferson

Much closer. We think it has more than 3 fingers.

Our camping destination from above.

Our midway point and overnight destination was relatively undetermined when we set out, more an inclination--we'd like to make it to the lakes. In fact, we must make it to the lakes, otherwise we will be melting snow water for cooking and for our hike out. We only packed in enough water for our first 10 miles, packing along the much lighter water treatment gear instead. It was our first time taking this approach and it was actually a great learning experience.

As we approached the lookout for the lakes a shout of thunder came from the distance, beckoning us not to linger. We managed to locate a relatively flat spot and erect our tent before the thunderstorm started in earnest. It was an intense but short rainfall as the storm passed quickly overhead. After a lovely camp dinner the sun had truly gone down and we headed to the tent. Within a few moments we heard something gallop past outside. Not heavy enough to be an elk, but not light enough to be a dog. Perhaps a deer...

post-storm sunset

coffee, breakfast.

ready for day two

I promise not to hang glide.

reclaiming the forest

Our path.

almost around, Jack from the south-east.

snacks among ghosts of trees

A wildfire at Mt. Washington and the last lake of our hike

I fantasized about sitting on the tailgate of the truck with my feet up and drinking our cold (waiting in the cooler) 'ride-home' water for about the last mile and a half of day two. My feet were quite sore after trudging through the dusty terrain. Our longest weekend backpacking trek to-date, it was absolutely beautiful and well worth the stiffness and soreness I am still feeling the day after.