Sunny Day on Mt. Hood

Winter sunrises on Mt. Hood are the best.  The mountain is draped in her best winter white, the sky often has interesting clouds, and the sun doesn't rise until well after 7 o'clock, so one doesn't have to get up quite as early.  After capturing a nice sunrise last January, I decided it was time for another try.  So I diligently searched the forecasts for a clear morning.  Finally, spying a promising weather day, I set my alarm for a pre-dawn wake up.

Mt Hood before sunrise

It's always tough for me to rise early, but the hope of a colorful sky motivated me out of bed and on the road.  On this day, I arrived at Timberline Lodge with plenty of time to hike up the groomed climber's trail for a closer vantage.  Thinking I wouldn't need traction on a packed trail, I stupidly left my snowshoes in the car.  But getting to a good viewpoint required some off-trail post-holing through a foot of fresh powder.  Those snowshoes would've come in handy!

Brightening sky to the south

After arriving at my desired viewpoint, I then waited impatiently in the cold for the sun to make it's appearance.  The sky to the south and east began to turn colors first, so I pointed my camera in that direction.  There's always a great view of Mt. Jefferson and the Three Sisters on the southern skyline.

Alpenglow!

Finally the sun broke above the horizon.  Mt. Hood lit up in lovely pink alpenglow.  I had to work fast, as this hue was fleeting.  I captured several frames of the rose-colored mountain before it began to fade.

Not sure what this building was but it made a good photo subject

After the sunrise show was over, I slowly began the trek back down the groomed snowcat track to my car.  The early morning light was so good, I couldn't resist capturing few more images of nearby sights.  I spotted a small, round building nearby.  I didn't know what the building was used for, but the light on it was so good, I took a bunch of photos anyway.

First tracks

As a walked back down the snowcat track, I was mesmerized by the beautiful view to the south.  There was a single ski track down the groomed track, and I thought it made a good image.  We skiers live for first tracks!

Vintage snowcat outside of Timberline Lodge

Timberline ski area has an army of snowcats that groom the ski runs.  When not in use, the snowcats are parked outside of Timberline Lodge.  In addition to the modern machines, there's also a vintage Tucker snowcat sitting in the lot.  I don't think it's ever used - the snowcat seems to function as a photo op.  Which is what I did - walking around the little orange 'cat documenting it from all angles.

Mt Hood and White River

Sunrise now successfully captured, the morning was still early.  But I didn't drive all the way up to the mountain just to turn around and head home.  It was time to find a nearby trail.  So I headed over to White River Snopark, one of my favorite winter playgrounds.

White River Canyon views

The White River Canyon is a popular place for winter recreation.  There's a nearby sledding hill for families.  Trails take skiers and snowshoers deeper into the canyon.  I could see remnants of the past weekend snowplay, as evidenced by the many snowmen of all sizes near the parking lot.

Heavily used snowshoe track

But I was here to hike up the canyon.  Strapping on my snowshoes, I set out, following a well-trod path through the snow.  The sun shone brightly upon the forest, the glare off the white snow forcing me to don sunglasses.

This poor little tree was struggling to stay above the snow

But after enduring days of rainy, gray skies this solar energy was most welcome.  Mt. Hood's white peak stood prominently against the clear blue sky.  The snowy forest sparkled in the sunlight.  What a wonderful day to be outside!

Wonderful views

I hiked about a mile and a half up the canyon.  After climbing the steep sledding hill, the path veered through a thick forest with occasional views of the mountain.  At 1.5 miles, the forest cleared and I was treated to an amazing view of Mt. Hood and the surrounding foothills.

Lunchtime break

A perfect place for a break!  I eased myself onto the snow and enjoyed a snack of hot tea, ginger cookies, and a cliff bar.  I watched two snowshoers try to navigate the extremely steep slope up nearby Boy Scout Ridge.  They got about halfway before conditions got too dicey - the snow was sliding out from underneath them - so the couple turned around and gingerly made their way back down.

Ripples on the snow surface

No steep slope climbing for me!  Break finished, I began to retrace my steps through the woods.  I contemplated slogging down to the river valley, but there didn't appear to be a good access point.  Then I met up with a man on snowshoes.  He pointed me to a gentle path down from the bluff that followed White River back to the parking area.  I followed the man's tracks down the embankment and after sliding down the last small dropoff, arrived at river level.

Snow-covered trees

It was fun to walk in the wide-open river valley.  Views stretched back to Mt. Hood in one direction, and towards the forested foothills in the other.  Although the snow was marred by many ski and snowshoe tracks, it was still a pretty scene.  White River wound through the valley, it's waters visible through the snow.  Although the river water wasn't frozen, most of the rocks had an icy coating, and there were plenty of icicles on the sides.

White River's icy banks

I arrived back at my car tired from my trek, but rejuvenated by all the beauty.  I'm glad I made the effort to get up early, not only to witness sunrise on Mt. Hood, but also to take a side trip through a lovely winter wonderland.

Groundhog Day Adventure

I really wanted to do a bunch of snowshoe trips this season.  However, despite good intentions my snowshoes have only tasted the white stuff twice thus far.  It's been a weird winter - after a week of snowstorms in early January, the precip pipeline went dry for the rest of the month.  February brought a few small snow events in the mountains, but nothing with huge accumulations.

Snowshoeing is so much better with fresh snow.  Here in the Pacific NW our snow is wet, and it doesn't take much to get packed down and icy.  When conditions are like this, you might as well ditch the snowshoes, don microspikes, and turn things into a hike.  Since icy trails didn't appeal to me, my snowshoes sat idle all of January.  Until a promising forecast the first week of February caught my attention.

Near the trailhead

The mountain snow report on February 2nd looked good - promising several inches of the white stuff.  Although I'd traveled up to Mt Hood for skiing the day before and planned another ski trip for the 3rd, I couldn't pass up the rare chance to showshoe on fresh powder.  So early that morning found me in my car once again heading up the icy roads to Mt. Hood, destination Barlow Pass Trailhead.

Wilderness area sign

Barlow Pass is on the old Barlow Road, an alternative route of the Oregon Trail.  Pioneers not wishing to brave the harrowing journey rafting down the Columbia River often chose to lead their wagons over the imposing Cascade Mountains and follow this road.  Barlow Pass has the distinction of being at the crest of the Cascades, a milestone in the pioneer's travel.  In modern days, the Pacific Crest Trail (PCT) passes through here, one of several trails hikers can now explore.  (In keeping with the area's past history, there's also a path to the grave of an unknown pioneer woman)

Branches loaded with heavy snow

There were only two other vehicles at the trailhead.  A man with skis emerged from one and promptly took off down one of the trails.  Strapping on my snowshoes, I stomped through the new-fallen snow with delight.  There was a good four inches on the ground and it was light, fluffy powder.  Yeah!  Conditions couldn't have been better.

Everything is white

My plan for the day was to take the PCT southbound for about 2 miles until it intersected with the trail to Upper Twin Lake.  I'd then take this 1.5-ish mile trail to Upper Twin Lake.  A trek I'd done before, it topped out at 7.5 miles round-trip.  

Bunny tracks

Although there was already a set of ski tracks through the snow, I broke my own trail beside them.  Good backcountry etiquette dictates that snowshoers stay out of skier's tracks.  Snowshoes mess up the ski tracks which can be hazardous for cross country skiers.  (I realize that many snowshoers either don't know this or don't care because in some high use areas ski tracks are routinely obliterated by snowshoers)

Nothing to see on Tri-County Ridge

The new snow was plastered on the trunks of trees and covered their branches.  It was quite beautiful, necessitating frequent photo stops.  Besides ski tracks, the only other thing marring this lovely white carpet was a set of animal prints leading off through the forest (probably a bunny, I guessed).

Flocked trees

About a mile southbound on the PCT I'd heard of a side trail branching off that led hikers uphill to a fabulous view of Mt. Hood.  The place was either called Ghost Ridge or Tri-County Ridge, depending on which hiking website you were viewing.  Upon reaching this junction, I noticed the set of ski tracks heading uphill towards the ridge.  Should I venture up there too?  It was a foggy, overcast day so chances of any type of view were nil.  In the end, curiosity got the better of me, so I turned and went up the ridge. 

Looking out over the frozen forest

After a hard climb of nearly 3/4 of a mile I emerged into a clearing.  Heavily snow-flocked trees appeared like ghosts through the thick fog.  Every direction I looked was obscured by a curtain of white.  I'd heard on a clear day views here were stupendous, but right now there was absolutely nothing to see.  I'd huffed and puffed up here for naught. 

Finally the Twin Lakes trail!

At least the journey back downhill to the PCT was much easier.  And once reconnecting with the PCT, I commenced breaking my own trail, as the ski tracks had ended at the uphill path to the ridge.  After a very long half mile (those trail stretchers were at it again!) I finally reached the junction with the Upper Twin Lakes Trail.

Woodpeckers were busy

This new trail took me downhill through more untracked snow.  It was a joy to be able to walk wherever I wanted without worrying about messing up skier tracks.  I passed an old tree full of woodpecker holes that was interesting.  Then I made my way through a large clearing, where at another trail junction, I picked up my skier friend's tracks once again.

Bird Butte summit - high point of my trek

From here the trail switchbacked steeply uphill to the summit of Bird Butte.  At 4,560 feet this was the high point of my trek.  I paused for a photo with the sign for posterity (and also for my 2022 hiking challenge blog page).

Upper Twin Lake was socked in

It was all downhill from here to the lake.  A quick shuffle through the trees and I arrived at the snowy shore.  With the overcast skies there wasn't much to see.  But I snapped a few pics before settling down to a quick lunch break.

Lunchtime view (or lack thereof)

After lunch I donned my backpack and set out once again, retracing my path through the snow.  On the uphill to Bird Butte I met a couple of skiers coming down who thanked me for not walking in their tracks.  However, clomping my way back through the meadow to the place where I had broken a lone path through the snow, I was disappointed to see the skiers had made their tracks right through my snowshoe path.  Guess it doesn't work both ways?

Backcountry etiquette - separate tracks for skis and snowshoes

The boots I use for snowshoeing tend to rub in the heels if I do too much uphill hiking.  I know this, and usually take preventative measures beforehand to ensure blisters don't form.  But today I forgot all about doing this, and as a result, my feet reminded me of my oversight about halfway back.  Although I know very well you're supposed to stop and apply moleskin or some other bandage to prevent further damage and discomfort, I didn't want to take the time to do this.  It would've required not only removing my boots and socks, but also my snowshoes.  This would burn too much time, I reasoned.  I'm almost back, I can make it!

Snowy PCT sign

Onward I limped, reaching the PCT once again.  Only two miles to go!  But, boy were they long miles.  My heels hurt with every step, even more so when I had to plow through snow or go uphill.  But I gritted my teeth and carried on.  By now temperatures had risen to above freezing and the morning's nice fluffy powder had transformed to heavy, wet snow.  

Finally reaching the car, I gratefully pulled off my boots and discovered (surprise!) huge, tender blisters on both heels.  (That's what you get for not stopping and taking care of things.)  The man who had started skiing at the same time as I did this morning finished his journey within five minutes of me.  We chatted at our vehicles for a moment before I bid him goodbye.

The return trip seemed endless

Although this happened to be Groundhog Day, I highly doubt there were any groundhogs in the forest.  Even if there were, with the day's overcast conditions there's no way one would've seen his shadow.  As a lover of snow and cold, I'm probably the only person wishing for a sunny Groundhog Day, because I want 6 more weeks of winter.  Sadly not this year!

Central Oregon Snowshoe

My wintertime travels to Central Oregon have been almost exclusively for skiing.  However, from multiple trips between Bend and Mt Bachelor, I've passed several sno-parks and always had the desire to check out their trails.  But with limited weekend time, skiing had always taken precedence over hiking or snowshoeing.  That is, until this year.

Kim and I ready to hit the trail!

My friend Kim and I were trying to schedule another ski trip to Mt Bachelor.  However, this year in an attempt to limit crowds (COVID, you know) Mt Bachelor had instituted a parking reservation system.  When reservations had opened up in November, I'd been lucky enough to grab three weekends.  However, now wishing to ski a fourth weekend, we discovered all the Saturdays and Sundays in March solidly booked.

Off through the forest

What to do?  Noticing that parking spaces were available most weekdays, I asked Kim if she could spare a few vacation days.  When Kim confirmed she could take time off, I scored spots for Monday and Tuesday.  (Which turned out to be so much better than weekend days.  Way less people!)  But driving over on Saturday gave us an entire free day on Sunday.  I suggested to Kim that we check out a snowshoe trail.  Having never snowshoed before, Kim was a bit hesitant.  She didn't want to tire herself out and not be able to ski the next two days.  But when I promised I'd find an easy trail, she was all in.

Cute snowshoe trail marker

From many trips back and forth between Sunriver and Mt Bachelor I'd passed the Edison Sno-park and always wondered what was there.  For this reason it rose to the top of my list, and I searched the internet for information.  The digital highway is a wonderful thing - I quickly found a detailed trail map of the entire area.  It indicated lots of trails, separated for snowshoeing, cross country skiing, and snowmobiling.  And I loved the electrically-themed trail names - High Voltage, AC/DC, Supercharger, Light Bulb Loop.  Despite all the cool names, I picked a trail unimaginatively called the "Short Loop."  But it was three miles total distance, perfect for a beginner.

My brother spies something!

So on a sunny, beautiful Sunday morning Kim and I met my brother at the Edison Sno-park.  My brother brought an extra pair of snowshoes for Kim so she didn't have to rent a pair.  I showed Kim how to put on her snowshoes, consulted the nearby trail map, and posed for a few photos.  Then we were on our way!

Edison Shelter

I wasn't sure what to expect, so I was pleasantly surprised by the wonderful scenery along the Short Loop.  A thin coating of new snow covered everything, and it sparkled in the sun.  Huge ponderosa pines lined our path - their bark a lovely shade of reddish brown.  I was used to the dense forests around Mt Hood, so was appreciative of the large gaps between trees.  Enough to see the beautiful blue sky!  Although there wasn't any huge elevation gains, the path did have a few mellow ups and downs, traversing a bit of snow-covered lava rock.

Snack break at the shelter

Our destination was the Edison Shelter, about 1.5 miles from the parking area.  It was a cute log structure complete with covered porch and wood burning stove inside.  We were lucky and arrived just as another group was leaving, so had the place to ourselves!  (Even more desirable in these times of COVID).  

Heading back

The day's temperatures had warmed enough that there wasn't a need to huddle inside around the stove (and it wasn't burning anything either).  Instead my brother, Kim, and I sat on the porch and enjoyed a snack, while taking in the lovely forest scenery.

Huge ponderosa pines!

Hearing voices on the trail to the shelter was our cue it was time to get going.  So my brother, Kim and I packed up and retraced our steps back to the main "Short Loop" trail.  At the junction, there was a bit of discussion about which trail was the continuance of the loop.  After heading one direction my brother discovered a smiley face I'd earlier traced into a nearby snowbank, which clearly indicated we'd gone the wrong way.  So back to the junction we went, this time taking the correct trail. 

Final junction (and Kim is happy)

The loop continuance was just as wonderful.  More gigantic ponderosa pines and small snowy humps.  By now the temps were warm enough for the snow to stick, and my brother amused us by throwing snowballs up these small hills and watching them roll downhill while increasing in size. (Yes, I'll admit it, I'm easily entertained!)

Snowdrifts over lava rock piles

By the final trail junction, Kim was starting to tire.  She admitted that three miles might have been a bit ambitious for her first snowshoe outing.  But with only 3/4 mile left to go, we slowed down and made our breaks more frequent, so she toughed it out.

The trailhead is in sight!

As we approached the parking lot, our eyes were treated to a glimpse of nearby Mt Bachelor through the trees.  A wonderful surprise - and great way to end our day in the woods.  

Kim was such a trooper.  Although she was later sore from our outing it didn't stop her from skiing the next two days straight.  Kim even said she'd try another snowshoe trek!

Lucky Day at Mirror Lake

Of all the trails around Mt Hood, the hike to Mirror Lake is by far the busiest.  No matter the season, it's trailhead parking area is always full.  Online hiking forums commonly post multiple trip reports for this trail every week.

So why did in the world did I decide to snowshoe here one sunny Wednesday morning?

Snow covered bridge

Well, this trail is popular for a reason.  Easy access off the highway, a relatively short (2 mile one way) trek, and the reward of a lovely alpine lake with Mt Hood views are why the Mirror Lake trail gets so much love.  And that's precisely why I decided to make a visit.  

Little snowman on bridge also snow-covered

One Wednesday in late February the weather looked promising.  After overnight snowfall, sunny skies were predicted.  Perfect weather for a snowshoe trek to Mirror Lake!  Although I realized this forecast would bring out the masses, I decided to suck it up and go anyway.

Frosty forest

My rule for hiking on a busy trail - go early!  I did just that, arriving at the trailhead around 8 am.  Although not as early as I'd planned, I wasn't prepared for what awaited me at the parking lot.  I was the first vehicle - nobody else was there!  

First view of Mirror Lake

Stunned, I exited my car, looking around.  Did I miss something?  A sunny day with newfallen snow and I was the only person in the parking lot at 8 am?  Was there something wrong that I didn't know about?

My footprints were the only ones!

Not believing my good fortune, I quickly gathered my hiking stuff, strapped on my snowshoes, and headed for the trail.  Might as well get a jump on the other hikers, I reasoned.

Snowdrift

A good 3 inches of snow had fallen the night before.  I got to make first tracks through an untouched canvas of new-fallen snow.  Although I worried that the trail would be hard to find with the snow cover, navigation turned out to be easy.  The snow underneath was packed down enough that I could make out a slight depression where the trail was located.  Also, I'd hiked this trail before, so the route was familiar.  And if all else failed, I had my trusty gps as backup.

Classic Mt Hood view from the lake

So off I went, through a forested winter wonderland.  The first mile of the trail wound through relatively flat woods, crossing a creek multiple times on sturdy wooden bridges.  The bridges were draped with a thick white blanket, snow piled high on the railings.  On one of the bridges someone had built a small snowman on the rail, which was now nearly unrecognizable under the previous night's accumulation.

Sunburst

For the second mile my path climbed steeply through snow-flocked trees.  Again, I was breaking trail the entire time, which was mostly fun, except for having to detour around a large downed tree.  It took a couple minutes of pondering the best route around this obstacle, and then climbing above and sliding over the tree trunk before returning to the trail.

Selfie fail

Although I made a few photo stops along the way, I kept them to a minimum.  I really wanted to be the first person at the lake - I had visions of awesome photos of the lake and adjacent woods with untracked snow as a backdrop.  I kept waiting for other hikers to pass me by, but I arrived at the lake without having seen a soul.

Ahh, that's much better!

Snow-covered Mirror Lake was so beautiful!  The surrounding forest and higher hills sparkled with untracked, powdery, newly-fallen snow.  The sky was a blinding bright blue.  And I had it all to myself.  I couldn't believe my luck!

Snow-flocked trees

It almost seemed a shame to stomp tracks through this virgin white canvas.  But the desire to explore overrode preservation.  From previous visits, I knew which side of the lake offered Mt Hood views.  Plowing through sparkly snowdrifts, I made my way there.

Snack break view

It was the photograph I'd dreamed of capturing.  Mt Hood framed by the snowy forests and surface of Mirror Lake.  After clicking several images, I sat myself down in the snow for a quick snack break.  

Hole in the lake's ice

Then it was time to get the official "selfie" for my blog's 2021 hiking page.  Propping the camera on my backpack, I set the timer and clumsily hustled to my chosen spot in front of Mt Hood.  However, the first attempt didn't quite go as planned.  In my haste to make it to my desired selfie spot, not only did I accidentally bump the camera, I also tripped over my snowshoes and landed on my back in the snow.  It did make for a funny photo (which I've included for comic relief).

Another shot of snowy trees

Snack devoured and selfie-taking finally accomplished, I shouldered my backpack and explored the trail around Mirror Lake.  The surrounding trees were covered in thick, frosty snow.  Mirror Lake appeared to be frozen over, except for one small hole of open water.  I'm not sure what caused it but the opening made for an interesting photograph.

Pristine snow

I must've spent at least an hour roaming around Mirror Lake's shoreline, exploring and snapping photos.  Although I initially planned on navigating the trail around the lake's shore, an area of deep snow and steep slopes made me decide to retrace my steps back the way I came.  

Hood beginning to cloud over

Making my way to the main trail, I stopped once more at the Mt Hood viewpoint.  By now, clouds were beginning to gather around the mountain's summit.  Once again I was glad for my early arrival.  Not only did I have the lake to myself, I also got great unobstructed views of Mt Hood.  It appeared clouds were now moving in to cover up the mountain.

One more cool snowdrift

Snapping one final photograph before leaving Mirror Lake, I ran into my first hiker of the day.  By now I was so used to solitude, the woman startled me.  Luckily I was just leaving - I'd had the lake to myself the entire time.  By then it was nearly 11 o'clock in the morning.  Starting back down the trail I couldn't believe it had taken that long before I'd encountered another hiker.

Sun shining through the forest

But......the rest of the world had finally awoken and made their way to the Mirror Lake trail.  On my way down, I ran into hiker after hiker.  My trail, just a single set of tracks on the way up, was now a well-packed rut in the fresh powdery snow.  Returning to the fallen tree, I was amused to see that everyone had followed my detour - nobody had thought to try an alternate route.

Snow-plastered tree trunk

The nearer I got to the trailhead, the more people I encountered.  I think I counted at least 40 hikers (and their dogs) in the final mile.  It was just one conga-line after another.  Arriving back at the parking lot, I found it nearly at capacity.  Definitely time to get the heck out of there!

Snowy happiness!

I still can't believe I hiked one of the most popular trails on Mt Hood on a good weather day and didn't see a soul for nearly three hours.  It was definitely my lucky day.  

(I should've stopped and bought a lottery ticket on the way home!)