Day 10 - For the Love of God

April 15, 2017

Segment: Near Paradise Park to near Lolo Pass, 11.5 miles.

Weather: Low 20 degrees, high 50 degrees, mostly sunny.

It was a damp night with more rain and snow. The tent, inside and out, was coated with frozen mist. My down sleeping bag was clumping from the dampness. It is a bit more convenient to carry than my custom synthetic bag, but time to switch. The warmth is actually bringing on this problem. I equipped for the cold, but now even my socks and boots are too warm and I end the day with damp feet. My boots don’t breathe, so not much to do there, but I will look for lighter socks.

Outside the tent, the day was breaking blue and bright! It was one of those inviting mornings that pulled me out of my warm shell, slung me on my skis, and propelled me forward. Swooshing through the pines in the promise of a new day is a glorious feeling!

I shortcut the valley and stream a bit early, but thankfully there was a snow bridge. I collected water and ate breakfast in a little clearing among the thick, snow covered trees.

Rising into the sunshine

Turning from the northeast, I was now ready to pursue a westward direction along a ridge, then northwest down the slope and through the long Lost Creek valley.

After climbing the steep side, I gained the crest of the ridge and a trail. This was my original plan and thought it would avoid many difficulties. It did not. It definitely did not.

Out of the valley, the snow was soft again, and deep, thigh deep. And it was not powder. It was a loose heavy snow topped off with a fresh dumping from yesterday. My skis were off, again, as I plowed, stepped, and stretched up the rising ridge which became the headwall of a cirque. For a quarter mile the ridge became a ten foot wide “bridge” with a near vertical drop off to the right into the cirque, and a steep, tree-filled slope to the left. I stayed to the left to avoid any potential cornices and never feared for falling. It was just a matter of slogging uphill.

Halfway up the ridge this opening occurred to Mt. Hood. I thought it would be only view of the day. I was wrong!

OK, slog is a bit of an understatement. It was a brutal climb where every foot and every tree well and every five foot mound of snow was contested. Up, slide back down. Up, slide back down. It took an hour and a half to go only half a mile! One does not ski from California to Washington in a single season at that pace!

I know! I know! I just needed to be patient for a short stretch. It was a small price to pay for views like these:

View from the top of the cirque that few, if any, others have had

High fog beginning to develop and some condensation on the lense

I love zooming in with my Sony RX-10 III

One good zoom deserves another!

Past the cirque, and before hitting the next one, I took off down a couple of glades with a moderate slope. It was nice to have the skis on again, for a little while. The trees, and the steep gradient, started again and I took off my skis, again. As I struggled downhill, aiming for the Burnt Lake trail, dark thoughts again filled my mind. I questioned whether I could reach Cascade Locks by my Tuesday deadline. Having a bit of an idea of what was up ahead, I questioned whether I could or should attempt it. Anyone who knows me knows that I am not a quitter, often to a fault, but I was thinking about quitting.

Then Jesus elbowed me, Hey, it is not your trip to quit.

Oh yeah. That’s right.

Get up to Lolo Pass and check things out.

OK. That’s wise.

Literally, for the love of God, not for the repeated disappointments of this winter’s conditions, I would continue this trip as long as there was snow to ski. For reasons hidden from me, God wants me to do this assignment with Him. I guess I just needed re-confirmation from questions on the first day down by Mt. Ashland. I do enjoy skiing (even hard skiing to a degree) and I do enjoy being alone with God. I just need to keep my focus. Which I did the rest of the day.

With skis more off than on, I contentedly made my way out of the valley, along the road, and into the flats at the junction of Lost Creek and Sandy River. I ate a late lunch while my stuff dried in the sun. My socks and boot inserts went from waterlogged (I had to step into a 3 inch stream crossing) to very damp.

I had forgotten to fill my bottle at the last bridge, but an eager-to-help group of hikers emptied their bottles into mine before they headed home.

After packing up and changing into the little Xero shoes I was beta testing for them, I walked down to the bridge, crossed the Sandy River, then headed up towards Lolo Pass.

Sad, sad, sad! Boots on skis on backpack!

I stopped just before the snow below the pass and camped on the side of the road on dry grass. It was warm!

One last view of Hood from beneath the power lines on Lolo Pass Road

Tonight I am thankful for my ski Partner and the ability, and encouragement, to adapt.