Hunchback Ridge rises up above the ZigZag Ranger Station, a few miles west of Mt Hood. I understand that there are views of Mt Hood from the ridge, but I didn't see any on this trip!
First off, I walked up a few miles of uneventful switchbacks under glowering skies. I arrived at an open ridge, which didn't have much in the way of the advertised views, but did have atmosphere, at least!
Looking down the rocky spine of the ridge. The erosion patterns of the local basalt create these fluted, steep ridges that are quite impassable. Well, I should say that they're passable, but not by any safe means. Technically, they'd be rough, loose scrambling, with lots of exposure and no way to install protective gear. Yuck.
I came to one of the supposed viewpoints and found it practically unreachable, as the field of leaning, loose boulders leading up to it was coated with a fine, slippery sheen of snow. At this elevation, snow was getting deeper and deeper. I walked part of the way up, and decided, considering the weather, that slowly and painstakingly crossing the rocking, slippery boulders just wasn't worth it!
I soldiered on up, still planning on being at one particular viewpoint at sunset. I was getting behind schedule, though, and was losing interest in the cold wet slog uphill through the snow. I did get nice light at a saddle on the ridge, though.
I reached the highpoint of the ridge, and found that the views were limited by my ability to place myself safely. For this point I was kind of hanging over a bunch of wet roots and poised above a jumbled slope of brush, snow and rocks. It wasn't so dangerous, but it was mighty inconvenient.
After taking this shot, I ran back down, hoping to get to one of the previous viewpoints in time to see more sunset. I must have passed the viewpoint earlier, but hadn't seen the spur trail at the time. I missed it a second time, unfortunately, and spent the next 20 minutes watching the sun light up the sky quite nicely, from inside an obscuring screen of trees and brush. Oh well.
Then, after the sun set fully, I ran and walked down the ridge. It was overgrown in places, steeper than I remembered going up in places, deep with snow in other places. This actually turned into one of the most difficult of all my hikes. I even had trouble seeing, as the fog that rolled in over the ridge made my headlamp almost more trouble than worth it. It was like having the brights on when driving a car through fog- a good bit of the light was reflected back in my eyes.
When I got back to the open ridge line, I took a few minutes to photograph the moon, rising over the Salmon River. In the valley below, you can even see the lights of a house. I think it's part of Welches.
After that, I walked down part of the way over steadily improving trails before stopping to use my cellphone to wish my grandfather happy birthday. It was surreal to sit on a log in the dark, halfway up a mountain, cold and wet from snow, fog and sweat, while talking with my grandparents (in Tennessee, about two thousand miles away). I was glad to have the intense part of the trip over, and appreciative all the same, of how lucky I was to get to have these vital, unpredictable experiences.
Hey Charlie!
ReplyDeleteWhen you take sunset photos, how are you able to hike back in the dark? I've been in the Appalacha woods and it's been incredibly challenging to hike after the sun sets.
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ReplyDeleteEdited:
ReplyDeleteI always take a couple of small LED flashlights. They're quite adequate for hiking on clear trails. A little less adequate for running, though still doable. They're not adequate for running on bad trails.
Also, the kind of trail I tend to hike is pretty obvious, even at night: if I walk off trail, I get hit by bushes and trees. For hikes ending after dark, I tend to avoid routes with more complicated navigation (braided trails, bushwhacking, a bird's nest of intersections).
Many of my first-time-hikes of a route are completed partially in the dark. One memorable trip a few summers ago, I hiked all over this mountain, looking for a place to camp, and finally ended up camping right on trail. I walked right by a huge waterfall- I could certainly hear it but could not see a thing! That's one problem with starting an overnight hike after sunset- those little LEDs are pretty useless for finding a spot to camp if there's not a real obvious campsite right on trail. And of course you miss the scenery.
Hiking alone at night can be a little nervy, too, if you're not used to it!