Three Sisters Backpacking, Part 1

Daylight filtered through the clouds and into our tent. I sleepily pulled on my hiking shoes and peered out. From the center of the dark valley we set our tent in, I examined my surroundings in daylight for the first time.

 

Even though the previous day was busy and we arrived to the trailhead at dusk, I especially enjoyed the surprise of our location. I had no idea our tent was surrounded by tall mountains. We had trekked into what seemed more like a mountain pass or high valley, not a lake basin. The towering volcanoes nearby were shrouded in low clouds and fog, apparently as reluctant to begin their day as I was.

Dinner the previous night.

Our first task of the day was a small mountain pass. Due to the dusty trail, the dirtiness began early on, apparently even before I put my contacts in that morning. They itched something fierce while I climbed through the alpine wonderland I could barely see. Matt and I stopped for a break atop the pass, I thought that the perfect time to remove the contact lens and clean it. As I balanced it on my finger, attempting to put it back in, the wind kicked up and it flew off my finger and out of sight.

In an effort to pack light, I left my glasses at home. With the blind eye shut and a little of Matt's help, we searched frantically through the rocks and dust. There was no way I could continue on blindly. My panicked mind began thinking of what I had brought along that could serve as an eye patch. At that moment, several feet away, Matt hollered out, "There it is!!" A sigh of relief washed over me. Thank goodness. Normally I bring a spare pair of contacts on all my trips but I had forgotten. I'm sure I never will again.

From there, we descended into a never-ending forest. Trees grew straight and tall with bits of sunshine washing through the canopy. Just as promised by all the reports I'd read of this route before the trip, this was the most uneventful section. Forest dragged on with little view, despite our continuing change in elevation.

The trail moved higher and into a burn area. In 2012, fire had completely obliterated all life within this desolate hillside. The sky began to darken, perhaps to enhance the eerie feeling of this tree graveyard.

Deep within the unprotected shell of a forest, the wind kicked up and rain began to fall. Even though the rain was a light mist, it fell horizontally and with enough force that I was soaked from head to toe within a few minutes. Instead of stopping to add and soak through additional layers, I opted to press on into the fifty degree power washer rain. Now fifteen miles into our day, my energy levels began to dip and the angry monster inside began to take over. "This is something I do voluntarily?" I began to question my sanity and frantically searched for a place to set up the tent and climb into my hopefully-still-dry sleeping bag.

Due to the fragile, erosion-prone soils of the burn area, there was just one small portion of this section that allowed camping. By some miracle, we were able to find a section of hillside that wasn't at a fourty-five degree angle and set up camp. Frustration set in as I struggled with cold hands completely devoid of their usual strength and dexterity. Even in the summertime, my hands chill and lose function quickly.

Soon I was deep within my cocoon of down and fleece. Matt and I breathed a sigh of relief. We both laughed as I muttered to myself. Shut up bladder, you're going to have to wait. Our bodies began to rewarm and we chatted about the day. Disappointed with the never-ending forest, we decided to give the trail one more day's chance before turning around and finding something else to do. Hopefully the views would improve. Oh and the weather too.