tvashtarkatena Posted January 1, 2008 Posted January 1, 2008 (edited) Trip: Bigelow denial - A wallow up Crater Creek Date: 12/28/2007 Trip Report: Crater Lake (near the Sawtooth Wilderness), December 28-30 2007 Sunset on the first day of the two day approach “FUCK! FUUUUUCK!” “Ras Tafari is not feeling irie” Jess and I turned to see Ivan chest deep in a tree well. “It’s like standing in a fucking elevator going down! How can the trail be at fucking eye level, for Christ’s sake!” I resigned myself to his fate. “Increase the voltage. Continue the experiment.” At 140 lbs, Jess never experienced the buried layer that was giving the slightly larger Ivan such a thorough yoga workout. My pack was lighter than usual by about 4 lbs; the weight of the lunch food bag I'd forgotten in the car, so I was staying afloat (which meant only sinking 2 to 4 feet) as well. No, I didn't miss the fresh black forest ham, mayo packs, home made mint/white chocolate brittle, and Tim's Cascade potato chips I'd left behind one bit. Ten hours of hard trail breaking up Crater Creek (Gold Creek Road) had moved our party of three only four miles. An approach I’d thought we could do in one day had taken two. We finally reached the elevation of Crater Lake after dark, sans lake, and threw down our packs in disgust. I would have blown a senator for a pair of skis, but neither Jess nor Ivan used that mode of transport, so it was snowshoes all around. In any case, snow that deep would have confounded any attempt with any technology to move at even a sloth’s pace. At least we were able to enjoy bluebird skies during the day’s flogging. The following morning, our “summit day” for Bigelow and Raven Ridge, Ivan peeked out of the tent and reported “Well, it’s snowing like a MF, but at least it’s windy, too”. Temperatures had remained in the mid teens; his remaining half liter of red wine was now part slush. Adhering to our new battle cry “Crater Lake is our Everest!” we soon found the lake itself, which served as a rink for the dancing snow devils that blew down from the obscured, wind blasted ridges above. We never actually saw any of our objectives. Jess: “Do people actually climb in this shit?” Ivan: “If God exists, he must be one mean-assed MF” Jess and I inscribed the lake with an ‘FU’ big enough to be legible from space; our mini-version of the Nazca Plains. The more motivated Jess attempted to extend our message to its unabbreviated wording, but, running out of lake room, had to be content with a final “FUCK YO”. Jess tags Crater Lake The underfoot plate on Ivan’s snowshoe sheared at the pivot point. We repaired it with a toe clip strap I’d been using to hold my water bottle on. That afternoon we decided to descend to our first nights camp at the end of the logging road, a pleasant spot with a fire pit, picnic table, and, most importantly, a bathroom. Ah, winter sublime Boulder field, lower Raven Ridge Methow country Once we’d regained the logging road, however, none of us could stomach the thought of messing with the tent another night, so we continued to the car under the Milky Way and a reclining Orion. Fortunately, we were able eat up the final seven plus miles of fresh snowmobile tracks in just over two hours. After a sloppy Mexican dinner in Brewster, we scrapped our plan for a motel and continued home over a very snowy, unplowed Steven’s Pass. “You know what I liked most about this trip? Leaving a day early.” Well, that’s winter for you; the smith that lures both bold and bored onto a cold anvil. There’s nothing like a Donner Party forecast to recalibrate expectations from ‘getting up something’ to ‘getting up off the couch’. A few more abstracts: Gear Notes: Bring a sasquatch to break trail Approach Notes: 7+ miles up Gold Creek Road (high clearance 4x4 required to make it past the Snopark to that point), then 4 miles up Crater Creek to Crater Lake Edited January 2, 2008 by tvashtarkatena Quote
ivan Posted January 2, 2008 Posted January 2, 2008 well crafted verse sir - my poignant memories: accidentally including the track from "dark side of the moon" that contains thousands of clocks going off when selecting tunes for the somnolent hours waist deep trenches of despair dreams of eagles no motorcycling allowed - ever! awaking to a complete 720 on an icy i90 at 40 mph around 530 a.m. - experienced in the sidewise reclined position in the unbuckled backseat yoowza! Quote
ivan Posted January 2, 2008 Posted January 2, 2008 what? no picture of the mad deep trench we created? Quote
rob Posted January 2, 2008 Posted January 2, 2008 Looks like fun. Man, I haven't been out this winter yet -- these winter pics are killing me! Quote
catbirdseat Posted January 2, 2008 Posted January 2, 2008 It probably wouldn't have mattered if you'd had twice as many people to break trail. When it's that deep, it's slow going. Quote
tvashtarkatena Posted January 2, 2008 Author Posted January 2, 2008 (edited) what? no picture of the mad deep trench we created? I took some, but the low contrast lighting just didn't do it justice. It's true; you're only as fast as your trail breaker, and they're only as fast as conditions allow. When you're having to make knee divots to provide clearance for the each foot placement, the scenery goes by REAL slowly. Edited January 2, 2008 by tvashtarkatena Quote
tvashtarkatena Posted January 2, 2008 Author Posted January 2, 2008 I added some abstact photos on the end of the TR. Just looking for feedback on those last four pics (they're various versions of the same scene) Quote
dan_forester Posted January 2, 2008 Posted January 2, 2008 you guys are LITE! just kidding, slogging through snow that deep sounds like the stuff of nightmares. Nice Man-Ray-esque abstract snow pictures. Quote
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